by Laura Hird
Get the state of him. Lucky bastard, a guy says.
Renee and Jay were moving amongst the people looking for McLayley but the clutters of folk moved off under the sodium lights toward DARK TOWN over the buildings.
Nah, the bampot isnt here, goes Renee.
Lets take a fast black to The Great Road, says Jay.
Scorgie stood up and dusted his hands on his arse.
Oh no, Mohammed, goes Renee.
Ah, fuck, went Jay.
Hello all, says Mohammed nodding at Scorgie.
Hello, you seen McLayley at all?
Nah, he’s lying low. I saw him last month and he didnt have two pence to rub the gether. Where are we headed then, going on somewhere else?
Aye the Blue Lagoon, says Jay and the four of them began walking separately out the courtyard and further up the hill. They turned into the chippie and since Scorgie didnt want to eat he stood by the window. He noticed how Renee cut in front of Mohammed in the queue. They all ordered chicken suppers.
Breast or leg? the guy behind the counter kept saying. Each time the guy said it Scorgie found himself looking at the pale tops of Jay’s bosom showing out of the burgandy-colour print dress then he was peering at the denim legs he’d seen Renee hold so far apart.
Scorgie moved his lips among the hissing and banging of the chip shop. His lips formed a word: then he squeezed his eyes shut.
Jay was served first so she crossed to Scorgie and whispered, Give Mohammed the slip, cmon.
Outside they walked ahead. Jay neatly folded back the paper enfolding the chicken supper. After she’d torn the brown skin aside, her red painted nails flashed among the pure whiteness of the meat she picked at.
Scorgie looked back and Renee came tanking out the Blue Lagoon neon bawling something. Scorgie and Jay ran on with a wall at their sides. There was the loud sound of a train moving underneath the wall. The bright orange beacon of a free fast black swung round. Jay made to step out into the road but Scorgie closed his hand on her arm. A car wheeched by, moving the dress around her shins. Scorgie held out his arm and the taxi brakes squeaked. The driver was pointing as to what way they were headed and should he do a U-turn to their side. Jay pointed up the long, ascending street. The taxi did a U-turn and holding her supper Jay bent down and ducked inside. Scorgie climbed in and sat beside her as the slaps of Renee’s feet were outside and puffing, she stooped in and slammed the door.
Quick, quick, The Great Road, goes Jay.
Renee was twisting in the seat looking out the back window so she leaned her weight against Scorgie’s side.
The taxi revved forward then slowed and stopped at the first red light. There was an entire grid of traffic lights ahead. As soon as the taxi moved off from the one, they were at the next set turning amber.
Who is that guy? says Scorgie.
Mohammed. He’s a real pain. Sort a guy you end saying goodnight to through your letter box.
Why do you call him Mohammed?
Dont know.
The taxi stopped at the following intersection. Renee let out a huff and blew on her chicken then she jumped. The door beside her had clicked open and the long creeper snaked in and put its end down on the taxi carpet. Attached to the rest of the long leg, Mohammed ducked in and settled on one of the fold-down chairs, twisting his legs round so they would fit in along the partition below the driver’s back, arched over Scorgie and Jay’s feet.
Did yous lose me? Mohammed says and he began eating his chicken supper.
The taxi moved through the intersections and between traffic islands then it cruised up onto an elevated section of highway and down onto The Great Road. There was no speaking. Scorgie looked at Jay: at how her skin was pale, bright red nails and mouth with streaks of black hair fallen down over the white face.
The taxi had stopped at another set of traffic lights. Mohammed was hunched over the ruins of the chicken. Scorgie noticed Jay had leaned forward and was glancing across him at Renee who turned, looking out through the rear window, her side pressing against him. Jay moved her lips and Scorgie frowned.
Renee shouted, NOW!
Jay shoved open her door and with the dress tugged up round her thighs she vanished at a sprint down a darker side street. The right hand door was swinging open and Renee had run across the traffic-free lanes where she was horseing it away.
The taxi driver had spun round clocking what was happening. He opened his door and stepped out. Mohammed was turning his head from one open door to the other, the chicken supper held stiffly under his chin.
Scorgie dived. He toppled himself forward and actually did a dive over the space beside Mohammed, at the same time turning his head to make sure the taxi was up against the left kerb with no possible traffic coming. Scorgie’s shoulder thumped the door wide open and his held-out-left hand touched the pavement as he flopped down, half out the taxi, his legs still lying in it. He crawled forward a bit, hands pulling him, rings scratching on the paving stones.
Someone grabbed his fucking foot. Aye for sure, someone had grabbed his foot: Mohammed clinging to Scorgie’s cunting trainer. Scorgie booted back his free foot and a chicken supper went flying within the taxi. The driver was in the back, a hold on Mohammed’s shoulder with Mohammed gripping Scorgie hanging halfway out the door.
Fucking nutters, nobody does a runner from 187 son, says the cabby.
I cant afford it mister, I cant afford it all on my own, get this guy to chip in, look at the trainers he’s on.
‘Chips’, look at the state of my fucking cab, says the man.
Scorgie sprawled on the pavement caught tight in the grip. A group of folk in dinner suits and long dresses politely passed, glancing a bit at the scene. Scorgie relaxed his leg then gave it the almighty tug – his trainer came off in Mohammed’s hand then Scorgie was up and sprinting lopsidedly down the street after Jay, arms held tight to his side, spitting out breaths, increasing speed beside a long row of parked cars, one foot silently landing, the other shoving him on then he swerved round into another street where he saw shadows behind a series of workmen sheds. He stepped off the pavement and in behind one shed he slumped down rocking back and forwards trying to recover breath, then he whispered, Ah fuck it, fuck, fuck, looking down at his sock in the dark. Then he chuckled.
After a few more minutes in the hiding place he came out, looked both ways then began limping along under the street lights, head scope-ing for dog shit on the pavement as he circuited back toward The Great Road.
He heard a hiss, Jacques, Jacques.
He looked over a low privet hedge. Renee and Jay were sat cross-legged.
Get down, Mohammed’s about.
Scorgie opened the gate to the garden, the spring squeaked, he closed it gently then kneeled down.
I thought I’d lost yous, whispered Scorgie.
What a cracker, eh? breathed Renee.
Aye it was funny, says Scorgie.
A breeze brushed through the privet.
Does Mohammed know McLayley’s flat?
Nah, Mohammed is no allowed to know anyone’s address.
If we could get in the close even, theres no way he’d find us, went Scorgie.
Cmon, Jay took him by the hand and they opened the gate and strolled up to the close door. Jay rang a buzzer with:
MCLAYLEY MCLAYLEY
There was no reply. She rang:
AULD/McCRACKEN
Hello, came a voice.
I’ve a note to post in the top flat for McLayley; could you let me in please, says Jay.
The door buzzed and Scorgie quickly jerked it open.
Away back and get Renee, whispered Jay, but her voice still echoed up the stairs. She put the nib down on the lock.
Outside Scorgie sneaked back into the garden. Renee was asleep, slumped over to one side.
Renee, hoi, hoi, hoi Renee.
Get out of my bedroom, she says.
C’mon we’ve got in the close, Scorgie threw an arm round her and started trying to pull he
r up but he sort of slumped down alongside her with his head in the hedge.
Oh Renee, he sighed.
Hey, yous, I’ve found McLayley, hey yous fucks sake.
A crisp packet was pitter-pattering. It was popping then jerking. A dried old crisp packet among the twisty roots of the privet hedge. Rain drops hit-hitting the crisp packet next to Scorgie’s nose. Scorgie had been sleeping.
Get up, yous are in someone’s garden, went Jay.
Scorgie sat up and says, Oh fuck how long have I been here?
Just two minutes, cmon help me up with her.
It’s raining its pouring, says Renee when they stood her up. Renee could walk well enough to get back in the close out of the big mild drops coming down. Jay clicked the lock behind them.
Wait and see this Renee, youre no going to believe this.
Scorgie climbed the stairs first, accidentally kicking a doormat.
Jacques, you’ve only one shoe on.
Aye I know.
They reached the top landing and Jay just opened the door without a key. A small dog yap was heard. They moved into a pitch dark, cluttered hall. The house was lit only by a single candle in the front room. Renee shut the door behind them.
On the middle of the floorboards in the large room a guy was lying on his back. Two eggs were beside his left ear, a puddle of wax on a biscuit tin lid and a low burnt candle by the right.
Renee darling, I’ve knackered my fucking back.
Whats happened to you?
Sorry yous have been trying to get in I cant move. The doctor came round to see me last night and he boiled me some eggs while he was here. He’s getting me in the hospital a week on Wednesday.
A tiny dog with a wagging tail clicked out the kitchen area, mounted the shin of Scorgie’s shoeless leg then with his paws wrapped round, pumped away rampantly. Scorgie shook it away.
Well Ratto’s got a friend.
This is Jacques. Jacques this is McLayley.
Hello McLayley. What shoe size do you take? says Scorgie, bending over to shake McLayley’s uplifted hand as he lay there.
Jacques lost his shoe, says Jay.
Cause of the limited candlelight the standing people were in a near darkness round McLayley’s stretched figure.
Cmon, let the dog see the rabbit, form a square circle round me and I’ll tell you what happened to me.
Scorgie had noticed an old arm chair behind him so he sat and lay his cheek against the antimacassar breathing in its ancient dustiness. Scorgie took out the four tabs. He tossed them over to McLayley.
I was hoping I could crash for the night, says Scorgie.
No problem, Jacques, thanks. Join me friends? says McLayley placing one each on the tongues of Renee and Jay who were kneeled either side of him as if taking a eucharist as they held their heads back.
McLayley began speaking:
Me and Ratto have been living on porridge for two weeks. Porridge for breakfast, porridge for lunch and porridge with herbs for teatime. I went out Saturday. I had to duck and run past the newsagents cause I’m the only one he orders the Morning Star for but I havent been able to afford it for two months.
I went scouting up town to try find this jerk who owes me seventy p. I found the bastard pished, sleeping outside his flat in the flowerbed at Safeways so I frisked the cunt and got a pound twenty six off him. I put the lot on the nose. The three forty five at Cheltenham; Lashing Worthy. Disappeared after the second fence then at the end of the race they announced it was the only one hadn’t finished. It’d fallen and been shot on the third.
I was so hungry I was just standing across from William Hills looking in the bakery window at this beautiful fat juicy loaf when there’s a tap on my shoulder. I turned round and it was some suit, CID, he says, Ah fucks sake I’m just standing here looking man, I says, I’m looking for people fitting your description, he says, Look I dont know what you’re on about, I says, Fitting your description to take part in an identity parade. You will be paid five pounds for your services he says, Lead the way, I says and he took me to the police station, then he led me to this cell. I walked in, all these guys and not one of us looks the least bit the same. Most of the lads are fretting cause they have to get off to the match.
Finally the CID in the suit leads us all into this strange room with a long mirror in front of you, spotlights in your face and you must stand in front of this number. I was number 5, and this row of us, eight guys, we’re stood there facing our reflections but there’s a space between me, number 5 and number 7. Then this guy in handcuffs is led in, they take the cuffs off him and he stands in place 6. I look at him and he glares at me then says, Collaborator. This voice suddenly comes out a speaker FACE THE FRONT 5. So I look straight ahead at my reflection. STOP SMILING 3, the voice goes. Then we hear these lassies’ voices on the other side of the mirror and a voice says almost straight away, Five, thats him, number five the fucking bastard. We hear the girl being led out again and the guy beside me is cuffed. We file out and the CID in the suit appears and smacks me on the back, Well done; dont let it bother you, and all the guys laugh. Through the reception we get a fiver each. I rushed over to the bakery and then queued up then says, I want that loaf there, What one? says the girl, That big one there, I says and the girl says, Thats plastic, and everyone in the bakery laughs. I go down to this health shop where they have these leaflets of recipes. I bought all this organic yeast and flour to make my own bread. When I got back here I found the electricity had been cut off. I picked up that armchair to try and throw it across the room and as I hoisted it: crick, I felt my spine go.
The candle sputtered off a bit smoke.
Poor McLayley, says Renee, stroking his forehead.
Will we go out and get you something from the petrol station? says Jay.
Nah, not now youve taken that tab.
You should write down all the stuff that happens to you, says Jay.
I’ve started doing that. A diary sort of. Not since my back went. There was an old typewriter in the cupboard. The ribbon’s awful faint though. I keep making all these mistakes. I can’t afford Tippex so I use that bottle of Milk of Magnesia.
My head’s really starting to buzz, goes Renee.
Mine too, went McLayley.
Can I go to the toilet? says Scorgie.
Down there on the right.
Scorgie crashed his way through the corridor that seemed to have a ladder lying along it. He stood, breathing in the dark, waiting for his eyes to adjust. There was a shuffling round his legs so he kicked out and yon wee dog scampered away into the candlelight.
There was no lock on the door, he had to kneel to pish straight into the bowl. While he was down there among the slow moving odours, a much-pissed-upon-by-the-males carpet and the toilet bowl sticky with dust and syrupy urine patches he prayed to his Saviour.
Don’t hug me to your breast yet; please, give me some more days yet my Lord, Scorgie whispered.
Back in the weak lights of the front room Scorgie found Renee had been blindfolded and she was feeling with her hands along the manky-looking mantelpiece. One of the eggs had been placed on the shelf up to her right. She crossed over into darknesses near the sink. There was a crash and McLayley began roaring with laughter until his back arched and he shouted in pain.
Totally cold, bawled Jay. A plate crashed down and broke clean in two.
Aww, my head, goes McLayley.
Me too, laughed Renee who then walked straight to the egg and started to peel the shell off.
How the fuck did you do that? went Jay. Renee laughed dropping the egg shell pieces on the floor then crossed and pushed the egg slowly into Jay’s mouth.
Yes, get the guts up and just do it, whispered McLayley.
Jay sat down and started undoing her boots.
The clothes are coming off now! shouted McLayley then he laughed. The blindfolded girl lifted her jumper and the shiny slip above her head but in such a way as not to tug the blindfold off her face.
&nb
sp; Colours have names but there are no names for the colours inbetween, says McLayley. Then after a pause he added, Except Burnt Sienna, and he started laughing.
Renee still had the blindfold and her jeans on but she was crawling in a circular path on the floor chasing one of her shoes that she’d removed. In the shadow her bare breasts hung under her like bats.
Jay had leaned over McLayley and looked into his face. Scorgie watched her hand that was moving on McLayley’s leg.
Renee crawled along the side of the lying-down man. Scorgie saw Renee’s tongue making stiff little movements into his ear then around McLayley’s neck while Jay kissed him full on the mouth and he moved up his hands into her hair. Scorgie smelt smoke and saw Jay making these little sexual thrusts then he noticed, as Jay twisted herself on top of McLayley and was un-doing his shirt buttons that little runt Ratto had pushed in by Jay’s thigh where her knee rested. The little dog had joined in, clung round the girl’s smooth-looking thigh and pumping away. A shadow crept down the wall but as Scorgie tried to watch, the last fucking candle went out.
Scorgie was curled on the armchair and he’d been listening to the first bird singing. A little light was showing over where the black drapes were pinned above the window.
Though he’d slept through it, the three had produced a mattress from somewhere during the night and they were lying in some odd positions with the man stiffly in the centre beneath a selection of old coats. Scorgie quietly slid down off the chair looking around for the dog. McLayley’s trainers were sitting off to the left and Scorgie grabbed with both hands then his legs pushed him up in a sure muscular way to his full height and in two strides he was in the dark hallway. Another stride took him past the toilet and another to the door. Biting his lip he turned the Yale and stepped out onto the landing. He sat on the bottom step and found by crushing down the backs of the trainers and stubbing the toe part down first he could advance forward in an acceptable fashion. Leaving his own trainer at the bottom of the stairs he moved out into the damp morning streets, scraping the trainers along as he went. A thick mist covered The Great Road but a few all-night taxis were still cruising and Scorgie hailed one as its bronze coloured lights appeared. Scorgie double-took on the driver but it was a new face so he swung the door open, got in and told the driver the name of the railway station.