California

by Ray Banks

  Ailsa pulled back to have a look at him. “So what happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “How come’s you’re out early?” She took a sharp breath. “You didnae do anything daft, did you?”

  “You know me, I did plenty daft. But no, Ails, I’m out properly.”

  “Really?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Punched him in the arm. Still had some strength in her. “Away with you.”

  “Serious.”

  A voice from behind her, braying up the hall. “Letting the bloody cold in, woman, who is it?”

  Ailsa smiled. “You want to come in for a bit?”

  “Aye.”

  She stepped back and let him into the warmth of the hall, closed the front door behind him. She nodded to the open door to the front room. Blue light flickered in there. Shug saw Steve laid out in his recliner, watching the highlights.

  Steve said, “Well, who the bloody hell was it? This time of night, I hope you told them where to get off.”

  “Aye, she did.”

  Steve turned sharply in the recliner, made the springs screech. He was a big man but, as the line goes, out of shape. Money-soft and none the better for it. Kind of bloke whose missus had to stay half-pissed to deal with his moods, with the occasional battering. And judging by the way the light danced across the scabs on his right hand, he’d been at it recently. But Shug didn’t want to dwell on that. Already lost it once tonight, and he could justify it as self-defence. Beating fuck out of Steve would just be indulgent, no matter how much the bastard deserved it.

  “Shug,” said Steve. “How you doing? You okay?”

  “Not bad.”

  Steve kicked the footrest down. “Can I get you a drink or something? Ailsa, get your brother a beer.”

  “You want a Stella?” said Ailsa.

  “No.” Shug turned to his sister. “Fi said she gave you something to hold onto for us.”

  Ailsa looked at Steve.

  Shug said, “What you looking at him for?”

  “Yeah, what you looking at me for?” Steve laughed. “You know what he’s talking about. Go and get it.”

  “Sorry, Shug.”

  Ailsa left the room before Shug got a chance to ask her why. He heard her run up the stairs as he turned to Steve, who was busy shifting his weight from one socked foot to the other. He looked at the television.

  “That new, is it?” he said.

  “That? Nah, had it for ages.”

  “Looks pricey.”

  “Nah.”

  “HD job.”

  “It’s all HD now, Shug.”

  “Seeing a lot of them about, right enough.” Shug pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Didn’t bother asking if he could smoke. Didn’t need to. He sparked the lighter, puffed smoke and moved his head at the television. “So if I get what I came for and I find that some of it’s gone, you’ll just, what, you’ll shrug at us, will you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Course he didn’t. That was why he couldn’t keep still. That was why he looked guilty as fuck. “I’m talking about a brand new telly, Steve. Looks to me like it might’ve cost upwards of a grand. Believe me, I’m getting to be quite the fuckin’ expert on tellies tonight, so I know stuff like this. And unless I’m very much mistaken, that’s upwards of a grand that you don’t have. Or at least you didn’t have until Ailsa brought in my stash to look after.”

  Steve was shaking his head, his mouth open. Smiling, like he was trying to come up with a decent excuse but his brain wasn’t working, so he just looked like he was having a mild stroke.

  “What’d you think, like, it was a bank up there? Take an interest-free loan, and you’ve got seven years to pay it back?”

  Steve stopped moving his head now, his gaze stuck to the carpet. He breathed out through his mouth. Ailsa came down the stairs, slower than she’d gone up them. Shug heard her come into the room.

  “Shug –“

  “Do us a favour and turn on the big light, will you?”

  “It’s all there.”

  “Come on, love, you know better than that.”

  Shug held out his hand. Ailsa gave it to him, then turned on the main light. She gasped at the sight of him, blood splattered all up his T-shirt.

  “Shuggie –“

  “It’s alright,” he said. Didn’t know whether that was Len or Golly. Didn’t really matter either way. Might be adding to it soon. There was supposed to be eight grand and change in the box, but there didn’t look to be more than five. He removed the money, saw his passport and his Granda’s watch, the gold one they gave him the day he left the mine. Shug tucked the cash into the back pocket of his jeans, the passport into his jacket, and slipped the watch over the knuckles and onto his right wrist. He looked back at Ailsa. “I’ll need a new shirt.”

  “I’ll get you one.” Ailsa left the room.

  Steve frowned. “Wait a second –“

  “Steve,” said Shug. “I’m going to need the keys to the Land Rover an’ all.”

  Looking him in the eyes now. “I already told you I never took your money.”

  “I know what you told us.”

  “Your girlfriend had it before –“

  “I know. Could’ve been you. Could’ve been her. Could’ve been both, but it doesn’t really matter. Not like it changes the situation. You’re still going to give me the keys to your car.”

  “No, I’m not.” He backed away a step, second-guessing himself. “Why?”

  “Because if you don’t, I’ll shoot you in the face.” Shug pulled the pistol, held it loose against one leg.

  “I swear, we never took any money from you.”

  “I’m past caring. Thing is, I’m robbing you, Steve, because if I don’t, I’m going to have to hurt you. Badly. Because you’re a fat cunt who’s belted my wee sister for far too many years without someone showing you your fuckin’ guts. And the only reason I don’t do both is because I don’t want to see the look on her face when she finds you in a bloody heap, and because I made myself a promise that I wouldn’t seriously maim anyone else tonight. But here’s the thing, Steve, I will do both if you continue to fuck me about.”

  Steve trembled, but his face was stone. “How dare you.”

  Shug blinked. “Eh?”

  “How dare you come into my house and threaten me.”

  “Dinnae get blustery, Steve. Start crying or something, whatever you need, but dinnae come the fuckin’ bolsh. It doesn’t suit you and it’ll get you nowhere.” Shug readjusted his grip on the pistol. “I’m taking the car. The only choice you have is whether you get to keep your kneecaps, or whether I add one more to the tally.”

  Ailsa returned to the front room. Shug heard her stop dead in the corner of the room.

  “What’s going on?” she said.

  “Your husband’s about to make a very important decision. Way it’s going, you might not want to be in the room when he makes it.”

  “Jesus, what’s that? Is that gun? Did you bring a gun into my house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shuggie –“

  “Won’t take a second. Steve?”

  Steve looked at his wife, then dug around in his pocket. He pulled out his keys and gave them to Shug.

  “Thank you.” Shug replaced the pistol, pocketed the keys and held out one hand for the shirt Ailsa had brought. “Ta.”

  She slapped him hard on the chest. “Fuck d’you think you’re doing?”

  “Don’t.”

  “Bringing a gun into the house.”

  “I’m going.”

  She was made up, but the light in here made Shug see through it, made him see the swelling on one side of her face. He put one hand on her cheek. His throat was dry. Needed saving, but never wanted it, and he was past asking.

  “Is that it?” she said. “Flying visit?”

  “Let him go,” said Steve.

  “Take care of yourself,” Shug told Ailsa. “I’ll be in tou
ch once I’m settled, alright?”

  He kissed her on the cheek and then moved past her into the hall and out of the house. Left Steve to reach for the phone, get on with calling the police. It was the logical next step for a man stripped of his motor and his dignity.

  Shug approached the car, bleeped off the alarm.

  He saw a figure approach out the corner of his eye, heard footsteps rattling up the pavement. He turned, reached back for the pistol at the same time.

  Fiona.

  He let go of the gun.

  “Wait,” she said.

  He didn’t want to. He couldn’t. He had places to get to.

  But he waited all the same.

  9

  “Where you going?” she said.

  Her eyes were wet. She’d approached slowly, warily. Like she wasn’t sure how he’d react to her presence. He didn’t know himself. Not yet. Didn’t know why she was here. Found himself staring at her so long, she’d had to repeat the question.

  “Away,” he said.

  “Where’s that?”

  He thought about telling her. Wondered how it would play. Decided he couldn’t take the chance. “I’m not daft. You’ll call the police.”

  She shook her head. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Did it the last time.”

  She looked hurt. “When?”

  “Time that got us put in.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “I’m not daft.” He attempted a smile; it felt wrong, his cheeks aching. “I ken what’s been going on. You and Len.”

  She blinked at him, her mouth open. Lost for words.

  “Or you and Golly. Doesn’t matter which one, really. The bairn looks more like Len, mind.” He sniffed. “Guessing he’s the one behind the telly and the new furniture. He’s the one been keeping you company while I was away. Because I’ll tell you this, sure as fuckin’ day, he’s the one got us sent down. You might’ve made the call, Fi, but he’s the one that really did it.”

  “It wasn’t me. And the bairn –“

  “I don’t care. I sorted it.”

  “You what?”

  “Pegged your boyfriend.” He held up a finger. “Just the once. I’m not an animal. And it was self-defence. Coming at us with this.” Shug showed the gun. Fiona moved away from him. “So I did what I had to do. Doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it, like.”

  “I thought you were different now,” she said.

  “I am.”

  “You just –“

  “I wasn’t angry. No emotion in it. It was just something that had to be done, and it’s not like I went looking for it. They wouldn’t have let us out of there alive.” He looked back at the house. Ailsa had left them alone. “Anyway, I don’t have much time, so what did you want?”

  “I want you to stay.”

  “Can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve got plans.”

  “What about us?”

  “Four years gone, I didn’t expect you to keep yourself to yourself, Fi. Thought we sorted all that the last time we talked. You said you didn’t want to carry on with me in prison my whole fuckin’ life, and I telt you then that I didn’t have much fuckin’ choice in the matter.”

  She shook her head, looked at the ground. Put one hand up to her eyes. “You haven’t been taking your meds, have you?”

  “What fuckin’ meds?”

  “You haven’t been taking them. You should take them.”

  “I’m not on any fuckin’ meds.”

  “You don’t take them, they’ll recall you. You know that.”

  “I need to go,” he said.

  “Shug –“

  “Called the polis on us already, Fiona. I need to go.”

  “What for?”

  Shug nodded at the car.

  “No, Shug, come on.”

  He tapped his head. “I’ve got to keep the goal in mind, Fi. If I don’t then I’ll lose it, and if I lose it I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

  She started crying. He didn’t move. Didn’t trust himself.

  “Listen, I can’t stay here. I pegged your boyfriend, remember? Got into a ruckus with Golly an’ all. They’ll want us to ...” He shook his head. “I can’t stay.”

  He wanted to apologise. He didn’t. Knew it was just the sight of her crying that made him want to do it.

  “Why are you doing this?” she said.

  “I don’t get you.”

  She looked up. “You know he’s yours. Jamie. The bairn. He’s your bairn.”

  “I was away.”

  “And he’s three, almost four.”

  Shug thought about it, tried to work out the maths. He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t get the numbers to add up right. He frowned, started to get confused. There was a dull, painful throb in the back of his eyes. He tried to rub it out. When she came a little closer, he moved back towards the Land Rover.

  “Whatever it is, Shug, we can deal with it. Whatever it is, you don’t have to run. You know they’ll catch you if you do. They’ll catch you and they’ll put you back in prison, and what am I going to do then?”

  He shook his head, but he didn’t look at her. Same as it always was – soon as she didn’t want him to do something, she muddled stuff up to confuse him into agreeing with her. He’d been through it over and over in his head all the time he was inside, especially after that last fight in the visiting room. Her talking about commitment, him asking her what the fuck he was supposed to do about it when he was locked up. And she’d pressed the point, one hand on her gut like she needed a shit, until he lost his temper. Her fault. She had this way of mincing his head up when she wanted to, and he couldn’t let her do it to him again. Not when he was so close to getting out of here.

  He moved back against the Land Rover. She put a hand on the bonnet.

  “What do you think I’ve been doing all this time, Shug?”

  “Don’t know,” he said.

  “I’ve been waiting. That’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve been working hard to make a nice home for you to come back to so you can be well again. And I see you for five seconds and all you can talk about is your stash. Next thing I know you’re off and I don’t get a chance to say anything.”

  “You told Len I was there.”

  “Because he told me to. I was scared.”

  “Of him?”

  “Of you. The way you were acting. Thought maybe he could come round and you’d see one of your old mates, and you’d calm down a bit.”

  He flashed on the old days: Shug steaming drunk, wound up, lashing out at Fiona.

  “Didn’t work,” he said.

  “He told us to tell him as soon as you got out.”

  “Aye, he’s a paranoid fucker.” He wiped his nose, nodded at her. “I need to go.”

  “Shug.”

  “Away from the car.”

  “You not going to talk to me?”

  “Just did.”

  “Shug –“

  Kept his voice low, but the intent clear: “Get away from the fuckin’ car.”

  Silence between the pair of them. Shug didn’t catch Fiona’s eye, stared at her midriff instead. Wanted to smack her. The only thing stopping him was the tremble in his hands.

  “You made up your mind, then.”

  “I promised myself,” said Shug.

  “And that’s you set.” Her voice cracked: “Okay.”

  She moved out of the way and Shug got into the Land Rover, pulled the door quickly shut behind him. She stepped out of the way, just managed to keep her fingers. Shug stared at the steering wheel. He could feel her watching him as he fumbled with the keys. Something hurt his throat, made the tremble worse. He ran one hand under his nose and sniffed back something wet.

  Fiona was talking to him from behind the glass. A soft, pleading tone, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying.

  It was for the best. He’d made himself a promise that he wouldn’t get distracted from the long-ter
m goal. And so far he’d done well to keep that promise, despite what had happened. He sniffed and told himself the only thing he needed to do now was get the engine going, put the car in gear and drive off without looking at Fiona. If he could do that, the rest would be a piece of piss.

  He turned the key in the ignition. The engine growled.

  He saw her moving slightly in his peripheral vision. He put the car into gear.

  Fiona said, “Please.” And it sounded as if she was in the car with him.

  His hands went loose on the steering wheel.

  “Fuck off,” he said, his voice thick.

  And then he leaned on the accelerator, wrenched the steering wheel to one side, and lurched the Land Rover out of Ailsa and Steve’s drive, leaving Fiona far behind.

  10

  On the road, it was easier. He had room to breathe, time to think.

  First thing he decided was: he wasn’t going east. Too many people back in California with phones and fingers – the police would already have the car description and registration. So he had to think they were already way ahead of him, and they would expect him to go east, straight to the airport. So he wasn’t going east.

  South was out of the question, too. That was England, and too much to fucking deal with. There wasn’t much point in heading across to Glasgow either. If anything, he’d rather deal with Lothian and Borders than fucking Strathclyde. You couldn’t trust the fucking weegies as far as you could piss them. Mind you, Lothian and Borders were still cuntish, and probably still smarting because of the skip.

  So: north. Into the wilds, the scenic route up through to Inverness, a straight shot and the last chance to see his homeland before skipping the ocean like a stone.

  That was the plan. But the car had a thirst for diesel that meant Shug got as far as Bannockburn services before he had to stop. That was fine, though, because by that time, his gut thought his throat had been cut.

  Shug parked the car and changed into Steve’s shirt. Then he bought a Ginsters egg and bacon, a bag of cheese and onion McCoys, a king-size Snickers, and washed it all down with a big can of Red Bull. Something the matter with the pop, though, because he was still bone-shattered, something cracking under his muscles every time he tried to move. He couldn’t drive until the caffeine kicked in, so he walked around the services until the Napa Valley caught him unawares.