by Limmy
See, the reason it was pissing me off so much is that Scott is a laugh. You widnae know that, but he really is. He usually is. He’s an even bigger laugh than Peter. The cunt’s a fucking riot. He’s prone to his wee ups and downs, he’s probably got something wrong with him, but so’s every cunt. And it makes him more of a laugh, when he’s up for it. The cunt’s wild. But because of all that shite with his maw, he may as well not have been there. I’d almost have preferred it if he wisnae. I’d love to have woken up with my hair all shaved, all bald at the top like Friar Tuck, with him holding a razor and laughing his head off. Instead, I was stuck with this other Scott, with his face tripping him, going like that: ‘Can I have my phone?’
I was about to say to him ‘She’ll be fine’, but then I remembered the missed calls. Plus that text that said he was to phone back. But I said, ‘It’s cool, you’ve not had anything.’
And he was like: ‘Can I just get my phone? I want to check.’
I just said: ‘No, I’ll check.’
I had his phone under my mattress, in case the cunt tried to check it during the night. I pulled it out and had a look. The two or three missed calls from the night before had shot up to about ten. I had to pure put on this poker face, like there was nothing going on. There were no more texts, though, and I thought that was good, until I thought that maybe it wisnae. Like, whatever they had to tell him was something you didnae just put in a text, d’you know what I mean? But I just went: ‘Nope. Nothing.’
He was like that: ‘Well, can I just get my phone anyway? Please? Could you please just give me my phone back? Could you? Please?’ He kept saying it in this right repetitive way.
Andy stopped snoring. I didnae want the cunt wakening up and jumping in, backing Scott up. So I tried to nip it in the bud. I went: ‘Naw, Scott, listen. You’re on holiday, mate. They told you they’d get in touch. They hivnae. Just don’t think about it. I’ll look after your phone. Chill out, mate. C’mon, I came here for a laugh. Don’t worry about your maw, she’ll be fine.’
I smiled, cos I was 99 per cent sure she wisnae fine, but the smile did the trick anyway.
He went like that: ‘Aye, she’ll be fine,’ sort of in that trance he was in at the airport.
I thought: ‘Aye right.’
I looked at Andy, who was starting to wake up. I went like that to Scott: ‘Look at this alky cunt. Here, watch this,’ and I got up and poured a big glass of water from the tap. Did you know that if you drink a pint of water the morning after getting steaming on ouzo it gets you steaming again? Well, I went like that: ‘Hair of the dog,’ and chucked it in Andy’s face. I think it got a wee smile from Scott, but it might have been because he was biting his nails. Fuck knows.
We got ready and headed down to the pool.
Things were starting to look up. I’d managed to convince Scott that there was a slim chance that his maw was gonnae be alright, and he was nodding in agreement. Andy joined in as well. Scott wisnae back to his usual chirpy self, but at least he was nodding, that was a start. I was feeling good. I asked them all what they wanted to drink and I headed to the bar. A beer for Scott, and a whisky for Andy. I was gonnae forget about Andy’s drink on purpose, just to wind him up, but I thought I’d just get it. That’s how good I felt.
And I felt even better when I spotted that lassie.
I spotted her from the bar. She was in the pool, the other pool. It’s one big pool, really, but there’s an island in the middle with the bar on it, making it look like two pools, and the pools are different. The pool that me, Scott and Andy were sitting at was a normal pool, the kind you do lengths in, but then at the end of that is the bar. If you swim around the bar, there’s another pool that’s more of an oval shape and it’s more of a fun pool, with a couple of chutes, and bubbles coming up from the bottom here and there, and currents that push people about.
I was looking at all that, at all the chutes and bubbles and thinking that we should have sat at that pool instead, and that’s where I saw her. She was facing my direction, but she wisnae looking at me, she was looking at her mate right in front of her. She was smiling, but she wisnae saying anything, and neither was her mate. And I thought: ‘What’s that all about?’ They wurnae touching each other up or anything, but they were just smiling at each other without saying anything. I worked out what it was, though. It was cos the lassie had spotted me. It was like I looked at her a split second after she’d seen me first, then she’d said to her mate, ‘Don’t look now, but there’s that guy,’ and now they were just looking at each other until one of them thought of something to say.
I was gonnae keep looking at her and wait until she looked at me, but I didnae think that would go down too well, especially if I was wrong. Like, imagine if she hidnae spotted me, and she looks up and I’m staring at her. I remembered how weird it was seeing Scott staring at me when I woke up. Except, with a lassie it would be weirder, cos she’s a lassie and I’m a guy.
So I looked back to the barman, and I tried hard as fuck not to look back at her. But I told myself that I’d have a wee swim around her way in a minute, once I dumped the drinks.
But then I heard this: ‘Oy, Scottish!’
I’m telling you, man, it sent my heart in a wee flutter. It gave me butterflies, like I was coming up on a pill. I looked around, as if I didnae know where it was coming from, then I looked at her, and I acted all surprised.
She was like that: ‘Did you not fancy the karaoke then?’
She was treading water, doing a kind of backstroke thing where you don’t go anywhere. She had big tits, floating to the top, but I wanted to see her belly. How mad is that? She had a beautiful face anaw, with bits of hair sticking to it. And her smile. It was a friendly smile. It was like she knew me, like she’d known me for ages. I felt like jumping in and shagging her right there and then. But I had to calm it with thoughts like that. I was wearing shorts. They wurnae Speedos, but they were pretty thin, they were shorts for swimming in. You’d be able to spot a semi from a mile off.
I said: ‘Aye, we were looking for it, couldnae find it. Well, Andy was looking for it on Google Maps, he’s daft about karaokes. What was it called again?’
Her smile got bigger when I was talking to her, she must have really been into the accent.
She went: ‘Typically Tropical. That’s the new name, though, it won’t be on the map.’
I said: ‘Oh, now you tell me,’ getting kind of jokey cheeky with her. Then I said, ‘What did it used to be called?’ – just making small talk.
And she went like that: ‘Who gives a shit?’ Still smiling.
I burst out laughing and went: ‘Aye, right enough.’
I really wanted to be with this lassie. I cannae tell you how much. Her patter was right up my street.
Her mate said she was gonnae go and sunbathe, and left the pair of us to it. The pair of us chatted for a bit, asking wee questions, hitting each other with some more jokey cheeky stuff. She slagged off Glasgow, I slagged off London and England in general, shite like that. She was just how I pictured her when I woke up.
I could feel a phone ringing in my pocket. Vibrating. Either mine or Scott’s, I didnae know, so I had a quick look. It was Scott’s. I felt like chucking it in the water. I’d have been waking up next to that lassie that very fucking morning if it wisnae for Scott and his maw. I felt like firing it right against the tiles of that bar, the way they fire a bottle of champagne against a ship. Fucking b-dishhhh!
I just stared at it until it stopped ringing.
She went like that: ‘Right, I better go. Are you coming tonight? Foam party.’
I was like that: ‘What? Foam party?’ A fucking foam party. Wet T-shirts and all that, know what I mean? And she was inviting me. I was like: ‘Oh aye. So where is it, where is Typically Tropical? I couldnae find it on my phone, remember.’
And she went like that: ‘I thought you said it was your mate’s phone.’ She was onto me, with this wee smirk on her.
I was li
ke that, pure flustered: ‘No, we all checked our phones, just to see if the cunt had typed it in wrong. Honest.’
I shat it when I said ‘cunt’. Lassies can have a thing about that, but she didnae say anything. She didnae even blink. She was right up my street.
She told us where the place was. I was to search for some place called the Red Windmill, and Typically Tropical was opposite it. Then she went ‘Byyye’, and swam away, giving me a wee wave with her foot. I felt my shorts get a bit tighter, I really had to watch it.
Scott’s phone rang again. I thought about it for a second. I was gonnae just swipe it to busy, just sweep it under the carpet, deal with it later. But I thought: ‘What if she’s alive? How good would it to be able to walk over to Scott and say, “She’s all clear, mate. Congratulations. The holiday starts here”?’
So I answered it. If I didnae, it would only be a matter of time before they got in touch with Andy. I don’t know why they hidnae already. They probably wanted to tell Scott direct, rather than via an alky.
It was his brother Darren, like that: ‘Gonnae put Scott on?’
I was thinking: ‘Fuck that.’
I said: ‘How, what is it?’
But he was like: ‘Just gonnae put him on? It’s important. I’ve been trying to get a hold of him since last night.’
I hit him with this bullshit about how Scott just wanted to switch his head off and all the updates were to go through me. Then I went: ‘Is she dead?’
He was like that: ‘Fuck’s sake, Kenny.’
I was like that: ‘She is, in’t she?’
And he did this big sigh, then he went ‘Aye’.
I said, ‘Right, I’ll let him know,’ and hung up.
I had no fucking intention of telling Scott a thing, but when I looked over to Scott, there he was, looking right at me. The cunt was bolt upright on his lounger, sunglasses off, a hand over his eyes to cover them from the sun, so he could get a good look at my face, to try and read it.
I walked over to him, put down the drinks, and I put my hand on his shoulder. And I just went like that: ‘All clear.’
So there we were at the foam party.
It was a big fucking place, a big dancefloor on the ground floor and a balcony upstairs. That makes it sound like a club, but it was more like a big disco, with all these neon lights and cheesy tunes, like something out of the eighties. And I was pure looking about for this lassie, but I couldnae see her. I was dying to see her, to actually meet her up close, to stick my arm around her, to give each other a wee push, all that. The pair of us covered in foam.
Scott was looking forward to meeting her anaw. Meeting her mates. He’d perked right up since I gave him the news, so he had. I’ll tell you what he was like. Have you ever held a ball under the water, then let it go? I like doing it when I’m in a pool, with a ball or a float or whatever. I get the ball and put it under my feet in the pool, and try to keep it there. Then I let it go. And it floats to the top, quick as fuck like a torpedo. And it disnae just come to the surface, it shoots out the water and flies into the air, splashing your face with water. That’s what Scott was like. High as a fucking kite. Jumping about in the foam and hitting it everywhere. Andy had his phone out, taking pictures of Scott going mental, all happy for him. But I was getting worried.
Gina G came on, right? ‘Ooh Ahh … Just a Little Bit’, that one, and Scott went a bit too over the top for my liking. We used to go to this club called Follies, years ago, and they’d play shite like Gina G and dance versions of the Spice Girls. It was shite, we didnae genuinely like it, we were into techno. But see once you got a drink in you? All that cheesy stuff was some laugh.
Scott was like that: ‘Follies, Kenny! Follies!’, then he started doing this lip sync thing right in front of every cunt, pretending he was Gina G, cunts pure staring at him. He tried to drag me into it, like I was his backing dancer.
But I just went like that: ‘Later, mate, later.’ I was up for a laugh and everything, but I wisnae up for that. And I wanted him to stop anaw.
See, I hidnae seen that lassie yet, and I didnae want her turning up with her mates, and there’s Scott jumping about like a loony. It’s alright when there’s a dozen of yous, and only one or two of yous are going mental like that. But he was the only other cunt I was pulling with. It was like he was on a pogo stick. It was getting me worried. It’s like when I see a good-looking lassie hanging about with two not so good-looking lassies, it makes me wonder what’s up with her. You normally get all these stunners hanging about together, they don’t want anybody bringing them down. And it makes me think that maybe she isnae a stunner after all, maybe there’s something she’s hiding. And I didnae want that lassie thinking that about me. I didnae want her thinking, ‘Are these the only cunts that will hang about with this guy? What’s up with him? Must be something up with him.’ I didnae want her getting the wrong idea.
So I went like that to Scott: ‘Later, mate, later.’
And guess what the cunt says? He goes, ‘Och, fuck ye, then.’ And he does this thing with his hand, like he’s shooshing me away, like I was a fly. Like I was a fucking fly.
And Andy, who’s blitzed, right? Cunt was a wreck. He does this laugh, a big long one, like a cough. It was like the laugh meant: ‘Nice one, Scott. That’s my boy.’
What d’you make of they cunts?
The cunts that had ruined about three-quarters of the holiday, and they hit me with ‘Fuck ye, then’ and a big laugh.
But it’s cool, man. He who laughs last laughs loudest. It’s cool.
Cos his maw was dead.
His maw was dead, and there he was dancing away, unawares. Celebrating. Happy as fucking Larry, bouncing about on the dancefloor to Gina G, unawares that he’s killed his maw.
It felt good.
I looked about, to see who was looking at him, thinking to myself: ‘If only they fucking knew. If only they all knew that the silly cunt pogoing about has killed his maw and he disnae even know about it, hahaha.’
Then I saw her. The lassie. She was up at the balcony.
She was pretty far away, but I could tell it was her. Her hair was all wetted back, just like in the pool, cos of the foam, and I could make out her tits. It looked like she was wearing some kind of skin-tight white dress, like it was painted on, but it was because she was wearing this soaking wet white T-shirt and it was all stuck to her skin.
A white T-shirt at a foam party. The balls that takes. She was right up my street.
She looked around for a bit, said something to a lassie behind her, then the two of them walked away from the balcony. So I headed for wherever the stairs were, hoping to fuck she didnae look back over and see me scrambling about to find her.
I found the stairs and went up. When I got there, she was back at the fence at the balcony, looking over. I thought her T-shirt was a normal length thing, from what I could see downstairs, but up there I saw that it was a crop top or whatever you call it. She had on a pair of shorts, these shiny things.
And there was that midriff.
She was looking down and to the left, so I went over and stood beside her to her right, so she couldnae see me right away. I stood practically shoulder to shoulder with her, for a laugh, until she noticed me. She eventually got a fright and turned to see who this cunt was standing next to her. I smiled at her and went ‘Awright?’ – pure putting on the accent a bit, cos I knew she liked it.
She went like that: ‘Oh, you prick!’ and punched my arm.
It was fucking sore. I was like that: ‘Fucking hell.’ But it was good. It chilled me out. I thought: ‘Here’s a lassie who can dish it out.’ It makes you less worried about dishing it back. Not that I’d ever hit a lassie, I don’t mean that, fuck’s sake. I mean patter. All that jokey cheeky stuff we were coming away with at the pool.
She went like that: ‘Oh fuck, sorry, haha, didn’t mean to hit you that hard,’ then gave my arm a rub. And that kicked it off. The rubbing.
She took a step up to me
and we started getting off with each other. It was only for about five seconds, but it was long enough for me to put my hand on that waist. I wanted her to know that I liked it, but I didnae want to make it pure obvious, like it was a pure fetish or anything.
I was like that to her: ‘So, what is it you do here anyway? You said you work here.’
She said: ‘PR. Fancy way of saying I hand out flyers. But I’m finished for the night.’
I didnae know if she was dropping hints or not, but I was dying to whisk her away and shag fuck out her. I was regretting booking us all into that one room.
I said to her: ‘Where are your mates, by the way?’
She was like: ‘Why?’ raising her eyebrows.
I was like: ‘Naw, naw, it’s for my mate. My mate Scott.’
She was like: ‘Oh yeah, what, you thinking of a foursome or summink?’
I didnae know if she was joking or not, but I thought that this was a lassie who was up for a laugh either way. I went like that: ‘Aye, a wee four in the bed. Naw, I just mean that we could all get introduced.’
I looked over the balcony to see if I could spot Scott, to shout him up. I couldnae see him right away, cos I was looking into the dancefloor. Then I saw that he had moved. He was talking to Andy. The pair of them were talking at this bit near the toilets that was less busy, a wee empty bit. Andy was holding his phone up to Scott and pointing at it. They wurnae smiling anymore. Scott was shaking his head.
The lassie went like that: ‘What one is he, then? I hope it’s not the old guy at the hotel. What’s he doing with you anyway?’
I said, ‘Naw, it’s not the old guy.’ Then I pointed to Scott and said, ‘It’s him.’
Just as I pointed down, Scott looked up. The cunt looked up and saw me pointing. You had to see the look on his face. He wisnae pissed off, the look wisnae anger. He looked confused.
I found out later what had happened. It was to do with the pictures that Andy was taking of Scott dancing to Gina G. Andy sent one to Scott’s da, to show him Scott celebrating the good news. Scott’s da replied, in the way that you can imagine. Then Andy showed Scott the reply.