Bobby’s head swivelled briefly towards Davie then returned to the road ahead. ‘I’m giving up The Life, Davie,’ he repeated.
Davie watched his pal’s face. Bobby knew him well enough not to take his lack of response as disinterest.
‘It’s no the same anymore,’ Bobby went on with a slight sigh. ‘Been thinking about it for a while. Just no the same. Not since Joe.’
Bobby trailed off and fell silent. Davie waited, knowing Bobby had more to say.
‘It’s the drugs, Davie. It’s… well, it’s just no the same, you know? I mean, this bloke we’re going to see today. Glasgow boy, who’s moved down to the sticks, right? He’s puntin gear to weans, they say. Weans, Davie. And we’re helping him.’
Davie knew they were going to deliver some sort of message, but he hadn’t asked what it was or why. He was simply along for the ride. Sometimes ‘a message’ could be a slap or two, other times something worse, but Rab had not suggested that this was anything more than verbal, some business best not trusted to phones. Only Bobby knew what the message was, and until now Davie hadn’t been interested.
‘So what’s the message?’ Davie asked.
‘The bawbag owes Rab some dough. I’ve to remind him of his responsibilities. Nothing heavy, just a word or two, a wee nudge, but he’ll get the picture right enough. But it’s drugs, Davie. Hate them.’
Davie paused for a moment then asked, ‘So what’ll you do?’
‘When I get out?’ Davie nodded. ‘You mind my Uncle Bobby? The one I’m named after?’
Davie recalled a man who used to give them both comics when they were kids. Bobby may have been named after his uncle, but there the similarities ended. Uncle Bobby was large, round, red-faced and had a bad comb over. But he was kind-hearted and funny and, more importantly, as straight an arrow as you could hope to find.
Bobby said, ‘He says there’s a place for me in his shop, that wholesale painting and decorating place down the far end of Duke Street, mind it?’ Davie nodded, recalling the smell of thinners that permeated the large storeroom at the back of the store. One summer Bobby and he were paid a fiver each to redecorate the small toilets using industrial strength paints and after two hours in the confined space they had stumbled out into the fresh air, high as kites on the fumes. It was the first and only time Davie had felt that sense of euphoria, short-lived though it was. Within an hour they were both puking their guts out in the alleyway behind the shop, Uncle Bobby pleading with them not to let their parents know.
‘I think I’m going to do it, Davie,’ Bobby said. ‘And there’s some-thing else. I’m getting married…’ Davie looked up again, a smile beginning to grow on his face. Bobby gave him a shy sideways glance. ‘I never said nothing yesterday, it was your day, mate, but next year, I’m getting hitched. Rab doesn’t know yet. You’re the only one I’ve told.’
‘Who is she?’
‘You don’t know her, she’s from over Shawlands way. Connie’s her name. Connie Lorrimer. You’ll like her, Davie. She’s a wee bit older than me…’
‘How much older?’
‘Only five years, I’m no playing grab a granny or nothin, don’t worry. She’s been married before, didn’t work out. She’s a primary school teacher, can you believe that? I’m going out with Miss.’
Davie smiled, remembering the days in school when they called the teacher ‘Miss’, even if she was an old witch who had been married for forty years.
‘Anyway,’ Bobby said, ‘she wants me out The Life. She knows all about me… well… most of it. And she doesn’t like Rab one bit. She never gave him a chance, to be honest, just judged him on his reputation. That’s why I never brought her along yesterday to your party, he’s okay with her but I know she cannae stick him. She’ll like you, though.’
Davie wondered about that. If she judged Rab on his reputation, what would she think of him? But then another thought struck him. ‘There’ll be some very disappointed girls down our way.’
Bobby gave a wide, almost shameful smile. ‘Aye, well… she knows I’ve been a bit of a lad in my day. But, you know something, Davie? See since I’ve been going out with her, I’ve no been tempted. I can still pull them if I wanted to, but I don’t want to. How was Vari, by the way?’
Davie was thrown by the minor non-sequitor but he soon answered, ‘She’s a nice girl.’
Bobby’s smile grew. ‘Thought you’d like her. You going to see her again?’
Davie shrugged. He hadn’t really thought about it, there being too many other matters to deal with.
Bobby nodded. ‘Aye, same old Davie. Give her a call, man! Have some fun, for God’s sake. You come this way but once, know what I’m sayin? Live a little. I’m no sayin marry the girl but, Jesus, it doesn’t do any harm to get some now and then.’ Then something sounding like awe crept into Bobby’s voice. ‘Fuck me – would you look at that!’
Davie had been dimly aware during their conversation that they had driven through the small town of Maybole and had passed the ruins of an old abbey on their left. The car crested a rise above Turnberry and ahead of them lay the Firth of Clyde, its waters a deep blue, reflecting the lighter blue of the sky. The dark mound of the Ailsa Craig rose from the water ahead of them and to the right they could see the tail end of the Isle of Arran. It was an incredible vista and neither of them spoke for a few moments, two Glasgow boys more used to the high rise flats and sandstone tenements of the city than the blue-tinged splendour before them.
‘Makes you wish you could get out of Glasgow, eh, Davie?’
Davie didn’t answer. The sight had brought back memories of the holidays he’d taken with his parents. Ballantrae was only a few miles further down the coast and he was tempted to ask Bobby to take him there once their business was completed in Girvan. But he decided against it. That was the past and it was dead and buried. There was no going back.
Instead he said, ‘Congratulations, Bobby. I hope you and Connie are very happy.’
‘Thanks, mate. You’ll meet her soon, I promise.’ Bobby cleared his throat. ‘What about you? You going back to work with Rab?’
Davie looked through the passenger window. ‘I don’t know,’ he said, and he was being truthful. That lawyer had told him he had some money in the bank, enough to tide him over. He didn’t need to go back to work right away. He didn’t
want
to go back to work right away. He was no longer sure there was a place for him in The Life. Drugs had changed everything. Sammy said it, Bobby said it. It had been far from peaceful before but now, with the riches to be found in addicts’ veins, The Life was more volatile than ever. And Davie was not sure he wanted any part of it.
* * *
Liam Mulvey was of slight build, his balding head scraped down to the flesh, and was dressed in green and black camouflage trousers and a sleeveless jerkin over a dark t-shirt. He was hefting a rifle case into the back of a four-wheel drive outside his terraced house, once owned by the council but now his thanks to Right to Buy, when Bobby pulled up at his gate.
‘Fuck me, Liam,’ Bobby shouted through his open window, ‘almost never saw you there in your camo gear.’
A frown etched itself into Mulvey’s narrow forehead and Davie could tell he was not happy to see them. ‘Bobby,’ he said, his voice heavy, ‘what brings you down here?’
Bobby climbed out of the car and Mulvey moved down the drive to meet him, as if he didn’t want the visitor to set foot on his property. ‘Well, Liam, it’s no a social call, let me put it that way.’
‘Rab sent you?’
Davie decided to get out of the car too. He stood on the road beside the passenger door, leaning on the roof, watching the two men talk a few feet away. Mulvey glanced at him and for a second Davie thought there was a flash of recognition in his eyes. Davie searched his memory, but he couldn’t dredge up a Liam Mulvey. But then, he had met many people during his time with Joe the Tailor, it was always possible their paths had crossed.
‘Just a gentle reminder, Liam,’ Bobby said. ‘Big man wants his wedge.’
‘He’ll get his money.’
‘Oh, he knows that, Liam,’ Bobby said softly. ‘One way or the other, he knows that.’
Bobby had learned a great deal over the years, Davie realised. Joe had always taught them that there was seldom any need to go in heavy. A word or two should be enough to bring a man round to your way of thinking.
‘So where you off to, Liam?’ Bobby jerked his head towards the four-wheel drive.
‘Up into the hills there,’ Mulvey nodded towards the green hills that loomed above the seaside town. ‘Bit of rough shooting. Rabbits, maybe a pheasie if there’s a stray one around. Just for sport.’
Davie saw distaste flicker on Bobby’s face. He felt a certain revulsion himself.
‘Sport, eh?’ asked Bobby. ‘Don’t see how it’s sport myself. Now, maybe if the rabbits had guns and could shoot back, might be a different matter, eh, Davie?’
Mulvey looked again at Davie and once more there was that flicker. Davie asked, ‘We met before?’
Mulvey hesitated. ‘No, don’t think so.’
Davie moved around the front of the car. ‘You sure?’
‘I’m sure. I just know who you are, that’s all. But we’ve never met.’
‘Aye, Davie’s famous, so he is,’ said Bobby, smiling. ‘I wouldn’t let Rab down, Liam.’
Mulvey’s eyes hardened. ‘Tell Rab that he needs to come down here, see me himself, no send his errand boys. No matter how famous they are.’
Bobby drew in his breath sharply. ‘That would piss him off big time. And you don’t want to piss him off, do you?’
‘Bobby, I like you…’
‘That’s nice, Liam.’
‘But, see – I really don’t give a flying fuck if I piss Rab McClymont off. I’ve been a good customer to him for a while now and I’m a little late in settling up, so what? I’m good for it and he knows it. He wants to talk to me about it, he can come down see me and we’ll talk. Tell him I’ve got a proposition for him, too.’
‘What kind of proposition?’
Mulvey smiled, but there was nothing friendly in it. It gave his thin face a wolfish quality. ‘I want the organ grinder, no the monkey. Tell him it’ll make him a lot more than what I owe him.’
Bobby shrugged. ‘That what you want me to tell him?’
‘Aye, that’s what I want you to tell him.’
Bobby exhaled deeply. ‘Okay, I’ll tell him. And you know what? I think he might take you up on your offer. He was just saying the other day he could do with some fresh air and a wee trip doon the watter might be just the job. We’ll be in touch.’
Bobby gave Mulvey a little wave and turned back to the car. Mulvey watched as he climbed back in and then his eyes flicked to Davie again. He held Davie’s cool gaze for as long as he could then broke eye contact and turned back to his four-wheel drive. Davie climbed back in beside Bobby.
‘How much does he owe Rab?’ He asked.
Bobby watched Mulvey as he hoisted himself into the front of his four-wheel drive, then flicked the ignition key of the Montego. ‘Enough that Rab will want to come and give him a talking to for being so cheeky.’ Bobby eased the car away from the kerb. ‘Never did like that wee bastard. See the size of that gun? That’s him all over. He’s a short-arsed wee sod and shooting that cannon, killing animals that can’t fight back, that’ll make him feel like a big man. Wee man with a big gun, that’s him. Penis extension, that what they call it? Maybe I’ll hang around long enough to see Rab give him a slap.’
* * *
Mulvey watched in his rear view as the blue Montego pulled away, allowing them enough time to turn out of his street before he steered his four-wheel drive in the opposite direction. He knew they would be heading north, but he was going in the opposite direction. He could’ve made a call but what he was about to say was not something you trusted to phone lines. You never knew who was listening. So he headed south, following the twisting coastal route to Ballantrae. Fifteen minutes later he stood outside a small terraced cottage. He’d met the man who opened the door many times, of course, but now he looked at him with fresh eyes. Liam paused, as if he expected to be invited in, but he should’ve known better.
‘Rab’s boys have just left.’ Liam’s voice was low. He hated talking on the doorstep but he’d never once been taken inside. He wondered why.
The man nodded. ‘Will they deliver the message?’
‘Aye. Rab’ll want to have a go at me for being so bloody cheeky when I owe him dosh, but he’ll also be curious about what I’ve got to say. Rab McClymont’s fond of money, so he is.’
‘Good.’
‘One other thing…’ Liam paused but the man said nothing, just waited. ‘It was Bobby Newman that was here.’
‘So?’
‘He wasn’t on his tod. Davie McCall was with him.’
The man did not seem surprised. ‘He didn’t lose any time getting back in action.’
‘Aye. But here’s the thing. Me seeing him? Made me think.’
‘About what?’
Liam leaned in closer. ‘About how much he looks like you.’
Danny McCall didn’t even flinch. He turned those cold blue eyes on Liam and said, ‘Your point is?’
‘Here was me thinking your name was Bill McAllister. But see now that I know who you are? Changes things, doesn’t it?’
McCall’s voice grew soft. ‘How do you work that out, Liam?’