Authors: Jenni Fagan
How come they didnae know it wasnae human blood, when they tested the stuff on my clothes? That’s the question. That’s the thing. The experiment have to raise the game, ay. They have to break you. That’s the point, and they’ve not managed it yet. Everything that has been, every single thing, and I’m not totally broke, yet. They dinnae like that.
19
‘LOOK, THEY’RE GONNAE
drown Brian.’ Isla points back down the loch.
‘I wish they fucking would,’ Shortie says.
‘They are, look!’
Brian clings onto the boat from the water. Dylan stands up in the boat and batters him across the head with his paddle. A help-boat is motoring up the loch towards the laddies.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ Isla urges.
‘Seven, tag seven, woo-hoo, woo-hoo, tag seven, we are kicking your arse!’ Shortie shouts back at the boys’ boat.
‘Spin on it, ya radge,’ John shouts back.
‘You’re the fucking radge, John!’ she says.
‘Aye, you wantae come here and say that?’
‘Try me!’ she hollers and sits down.
We all look at her.
‘What?’ she says.
‘You fancy John.’ I smile.
‘Noh, I dinnae think so!’ She shakes her head. ‘Are you gonnae see Craig again, by the way? He keeps asking me.’
‘No,’ I say.
Isla starts humming a tune. I think it’s ‘Old MacDonald Had a Farm’. Tash is singing it now, ‘Old McShortie had a pig farmer, EE-I-EE-I-O.’
‘Very fucking funny,’ Shortie says.
Brian’s flapping in the water. He’s lucky he’s got his lifejacket on, cos there’s no danger
that’s
swimming. He’s getting quite far away from their boat now. Dylan leans over the edge and skelps Brian over the head with the paddle.
‘Oh, ya fucker, did you see that yin?’
Shortie stands up to get a better look. Our boat wobbles like fuck.
‘Stop that, right now!’
A big guy with a beard shouts over a loudspeaker at Dylan. We’re giggling.
‘I dinnae want tae go back in yet. C’mon, let’s get the fuck out of here,’ Tash says.
We all lean back and pull the oars, we’re getting good now – we’ve found the beat of it.
The loch disappears around a corner and we follow it around, to another huge expanse of water, and there are all these wee islands with big trees on them.
‘We should stop.’ Shortie gestures at the island nearest us.
‘Are we allowed tae stop there?’ Isla asks.
‘Aye!’ Shortie says. She looks at me. ‘We can stop? They didnae say we cannae stop. Anyway, what’re they gonnae do – paddle way out here?’
She gestures back at the shore; it is miles away now.
‘I suppose,’ I say.
‘We’ll still beat the laddies. If we see them going by, we’ll go after them. Please!’
‘We’ll beat them even if we doggy-paddle the rest of the way.’ I look back.
The boys are static now. Totally fucked. The bearded man is hooking Brian out of the water and arguing with John.
‘Come on, please, I brought some drink. I have tablets, uppers an’ downers …’ Shortie pleads.
‘I’ve got fags,’ I add.
Pat my pocket to check they’re still there.
‘I’ve got biscuits, and crisps, and drink,’ Tash concedes. She lifts up a plastic bag at her feet. ‘Just in case,’ she adds.
We row around to the far side of the island, out of sight of the boys’ boat. Most of the other boats are further up the loch.
We row right into the island. This is great – we are conquerors, maybe I could name it Anais’s island. Or, island El Radgio. The trees are really tall and there’s still some flowers. I dunno what they are – like wildflowers, or maybe just weeds. They’re pretty, though, ay. This is the last nice day; they say winter’s gonnae arrive tomorrow, and that’s that.
We float in towards the pebble shore.
‘I’ve got it.’ Shortie jumps out.
She lands right up tae her thighs in the water, and we start laughing at her.
‘Fuck!’ she screams.
‘Shut it and pull us in.’ Tash hands her the rope.
‘’S alright for youz tae laugh, you urnay fucking soaking!’
‘Take one for the team, Shortie. Man up,’ I say, grinning.
She wades us in until the boat crunches onto the pebbles. I’m really comfy in this lifejacket now, it’s a portable cushion. I might wear it everywhere.
Tash lifts Isla onto the shore. Shortie kicks off her squelchy shoes and pulls her jeans off and wrings them out.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ she mutters.
I’m giggling watching her. Tash is laughing at Shortie as well, and even Isla is falling back, looking up at the trees and letting out a helpless high-pitched laugh. She sounds like a dolphin clicking, which just makes us all worse.
‘Very funny,’ Shortie says.
‘It is that!’ Tash walks along the shore.
‘Drink – must have drink,’ Isla gestures.
We sit in a row. Tash opens her bag, cracks open a can of Coke and pours half of it out, then she tops the rest back up with Bacardi and hands it to Isla.
‘Madam’s cocktail – we call it the Island Hopper. Ladies?’
‘Please, Mama,’ I say.
‘Okay, truth or dare?’ Shortie says.
‘Truth,’ Tash says.
‘How many men have you had sex with?’
‘Paid or unpaid?’ Tash asks.
‘Uh, is it different, like?’ Shortie asks, confused.
‘Aye, it’s different.’ Tash looks at me and raises her eyebrows.
‘Well, ah dinnae know, I’m not a manky hoor.’
We all stop and look at her.
‘Just all of them then!’ she says, harassed.
‘About nine,’ I kick in before Tash batters Shortie. ‘I was up for about half, two were debatable, two were out-and-out wrong.’
I hear my voice say that, and I realise I am more stoned off those tablets than I thought, and I reckon I’ve taken the same amount of downers as uppers, so I’m just swinging between the two.
‘What, like, you’ve been forced?’ Shortie looks at me.
‘Shortie, are you the naïvist person walking?’
She just looks embarrassed, so I don’t say anything else. Shortie must be the only girl I ever met in care who’s a virgin. Fact.
Tash lights a fag and studies a cloud.
‘You dinnae need to answer,’ Isla says quietly to her. ‘This is a stupid game, let’s play something else.’
‘I umnay embarrassed,’ Tash says.
‘I’ve done one guy, for a wee while, the twins’ dad obviously,’ Isla says. ‘I didnae like it, didnae rate it, wouldnae thank you for it. It wasnae even a particularly manky pole – just no for me.’
‘I couldnae count how many – a lot, though; they like it underage, ay,’ Tash says.
‘That’s true. My adopted ma was always saying the wee lassies were taking all the clients,’ I say.
‘What – was your adopted ma a prozzie?’ Shortie asks.
‘Shortie, you’re the greenest person I ever met! Aye, she was on the game, so’s her pals – that’s what I grew up around, which is probably why I’ve never done it. No offence,’ I say to Tash.
‘None taken. They only pay above average for schoolies if you’re smart, ay. If you urnay, you’ll give it away for a bag of crisps and a bottle of fucking cider, while some prick with a wife manages tae brainwash you intae thinking he’s your boyfriend. Just him, ay, and his forty fucking cousins,’ she spits.
Tash takes Isla’s hand. Isla’s been crying a lot since her wee ones were brought in for a visit.
‘What kind of guys go with prozzies?’ Shortie asks.
‘Every kind. Bankers. Teachers. Builders. Even blokes on the dole save up their money sometimes. One guy paid me two hundred squids tae piss on him,’ Tash says.
‘Where? Tae piss on him where?’ Shortie’s eyes widen.
‘In his mouth, while he wanked his wee maggot off.’
‘I’d piss on someone for two hundred quid!’ Shortie says. She looks so serious. ‘Are you kidding me? I’d take a crap on someone for that!’
We all fall back howling and Shortie totally doesnae get it, and the angrier she looks, the funnier it is.
‘What? Fucking what?’
‘You’re a nut, Shortie,’ Isla says affectionately. ‘I need tae pee but.’
‘I’ll chum you.’
Tash and Isla wander off to the other side of the shrubs.
‘Is Isla okay?’ I say.
‘Noh, she’s not, she’s cutting herself like fuck – have you seen it lately? It’s doing my head in. She should just stop, but she’s all, like, guilt this and guilt that; and the twins. That’s what she cannae handle, Anais, she cannae handle that the twins have it.’
‘How do you handle that? I dunno how I would, she’s still getting counselling, ay?’
‘Aye. But she has tae, cos the twins dinnae need a fucking mum that hates herself as well, ay. What good’s that gonnae be, if she gets them back? Nae good, Anais. And she’s got that fucking ugly thing, you know, when they think they are total ming-bags, body-morphing or body-popping or body-fucking some shite. Now they’re giving her Valis and she’s just stashing them up and popping them en masse. Then the happy pills, then there’s her
HIV meds: have you seen how much she takes? She’s worrying me. Seriously.’
‘I wish there was something I could do’
‘There’s not, though, is there? Not fucking nothing. Anyway, how are you? That pig isnae dead yet?’
‘Nope.’
‘Good, we’ve got tae stick together now,’ she says.
The air is thick then. I dinnae say anything, I dinnae look at her, but I dinnae look away, and I can feel it, she wants to say, because I said earlier and she’s probably never heard it said before, but she wants to say now.
‘My old dear wasnae about much. My granda looked after me, ay.’
She kicks her heels into the pebbles.
Tash and Isla walk back. We all huddle up next to each other, looking over the loch.
‘How many have you shagged then, Shortie?’ Tash passes biscuits along.
‘I dinnae ken!’
‘How not?’
Tash takes the biscuit packet back off her. Shortie has about ten biscuits in her lap.
‘You dinnae have tae say anything, Shortie. Shut up, Tash.’
‘What – it’s alright for her tae interrogate everyone?’
Shortie spits and her hands shake. We just sit. Water laps the side of the boat down on the shore and it bobs up and down.
‘I’m gonnae get us enough money for a flat,’ Tash announces. ‘You two can come and stay with us, if you want.’
‘I wish you’d stop. It worries me every time you do it,’ Isla says.
‘Aye, but in six months I’ll have enough money tae rent us a flat when we get out of here. A nice one as well: flash kitchen, widescreen telly, fancy bed-linen. I will get you – anything you want! Anything. There’ll be just you and me and an extra bedroom so the twins can visit, and maybe one for these two radges.’
‘They won’t let the twins visit.’
‘They might.’
‘They won’t.’ Isla drops pebbles through her fingers.
‘You could study, though. Isla wants to study,’ Tash says, all proud and that.
‘What?’ I ask.
‘Child psychology, like, tae work with kids and that, ay. She’d be great at it. Really, Isla, you’d be amazing, you know that. We’ll even get married – I’ll make an honest woman of you, I’ll carry you over the threshold!’
Tash puts her arm around her and squeezes. Isla keeps tugging at her top, cos she doesnae think it’s covering her scars enough. I prop myself up on an elbow.
‘You look hot today, Isla. You suit halternecks, and they shorts. You look like a model, a short model, like – but a model.’
‘Definite,’ Shortie agrees.
Isla flushes and smiles quickly. She stops fidgeting with her top. Tash smiles happily and takes her hand.
A curlew flies up from the other side of the loch. It calls out in a low cry across the water. Most of the boats are sailing towards the top of the loch. There’s another boathouse up there that does drinks for members, or something.
There’s a lot more boats on the water now: toppers and big white ones and one with a red and white stripey sail. Some are racing and some just glide along.
‘I could marry youz,’ Shortie exclaims. ‘You know like how you can become a vicar online now and that; you just, I dunno, fill out a form or something. Though I couldnae fill out a form, not with the dyslexia and that. But anyway, I could marry youz – on this here island!’
Shortie’s in earnest and she won’t quit.
‘I’m fucking serious, fuck it, you dinnae even need a form. God’s watching or, like, the clouds are watching. Me and Anais would be watching, ay, Anais?’
I nod.
‘I mean, serious, I’ll marry youz right now.’
She skids down onto the shore and grabs up a handful of wee blue flowers.
‘For the beautiful bride.’ She shoves an earthy clump at Isla. ‘Now, this is holy and serious,’ and she falls to her knees in front of them and makes them clasp their hands together. ‘What do youz think?’
‘I think you should,’ I say.
I’m smiling, cos the two of them look so young and happy, and it makes me hopeful. I dunno for what, like – just hopeful.
‘You’re just a diehard romantic,’ Tash says to me.
I’m already scrabbling up the slope gathering petals and flowers.
‘Well?’ Shortie asks again.
‘I’m in.’ Tash grins. Isla leans over and kisses her.
‘Right, you’re not at that bit yet. Go canny, ay; now, turn around tae face each other.’
Shortie looks to the sky, crosses herself, then opens her hands like they’re a prayer book.
‘Do you, Tash – light of our Isla’s eyes – do you promise to take this woman, our Isla, as your lawfully legal wife?’
‘Aye.’
‘You are making holy vows before this loch, these clouds, me and Anais – and they swans over there.’ Shortie points.
‘Okay,’ Isla says.
‘Right. Repeat after me. I, Tash, will look after, treasure and obey my teenage wifey, Isla, and I will never rug-munch another, as long as we both shall live, Amen!’
‘Aye, whatever you said.’ Tash takes Isla’s face in her hands. ‘I do!’
That’s real love. That look, right there, that’s what everyone wishes they had. Even me.
‘And do you, Isla – blushing bride of all blushing brides, beautiful in heart and body and soul and all things – d’ye promise, and I mean
promise
, tae love, honour and obey the love of your life, our Tash?’