Authors: Mark McNay
Donna pulled the knife out of the sink. She washed it with exaggerated care. Sean looked at Maggie.
She’ll no be laughin when she’s missin a finger or two.
Maggie opened her fag packet and offered it to Sean.
Don’t mind if I do young lady.
Donna tutted. Maggie got her lighter and gave them both a light. They sucked their fags and pushed their backs into the chairs. Sean patted his belly.
Aye ye always feel better after a bit of dinner. Maggie smiled at him. The phone went and Sean’s heart pumped and he felt his dinner burn into his guts. Donna wiped her hands.
Ah’ll get it.
Sean stood up.
No, leave it.
Donna ignored him and went into the lobby.
But it’ll be for me she said.
Donna, what the fuck did Ah tell ye?
Sean pushed past her and went into the living room. He pulled the door closed behind him. He sat at the telephone table and took a breath. Then he picked the phone up, put it to the side of his head, and spoke.
Hello.
Is Donna there?
What?
Eh is Donna there?
Hang on.
Sean went back into the kitchen.
Donna, it’s for you.
Donna gave him a look down her nose and waltzed out of the kitchen. Sean felt shite. The heartburn was travelling up his throat and threatening to explode out of his mouth. He sat down and leaned his elbows on the table.
Ah cannay take much more of this.
Maggie stopped drying the dishes and came over and put her hands on his back. She rubbed his neck and shoulders.
Maybe ye should have a wee can of lager.
My guts are killin me. A can might make me boak.
Well have some milk.
Maggie went into the fridge and brought out a half-empty bottle of milk. She handed it to Sean.
Go on.
Sean took the bottle and had a wee sip. His guts churned and he rubbed them with his hand. Maggie picked up a pan and wiped it with the dish towel.
Go and watch some telly. That’ll take yer mind off it.
Sean got up and went into the living room. When he got there, Donna was sitting on the couch watching
The Simpsons.
Sean sat beside her.
Who was that on the phone?
Just one of my pals.
Oh aye?
Aye.
Sean winced as he sipped the milk.
Are ye off to the youth club then?
Aye.
When?
In a minute.
Ye’ll be wantin some money then eh?
Donna turned round with her hand out.
A fiver.
A fuckin fiver. Do ye know how much pocket money Ah used to get?
Donna rolled her eyes.
Ten pence she said.
Sean laughed at her cheek.
It’s no funny.
Have ye never heard of inflation?
Sean pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and drew out the tenner. She snatched it out of his hand and done a wee dance around the living room carpet.
Thanks Daddy.
Go and ask yer ma for change.
Sean picked up the remote and started flicking through the channels. Just the usual shite to watch. He would get bored with a programme within a minute and flick to the next one. Donna came back into the living room
and done more dancing. This time she had a fiver in each hand. She gave one to Sean
Dad?
What?
Do ye need the toilet?
When did ye become interested in my bowel movements?
Yuck, that’s disgustin.
Why are ye askin then?
Coz Ah’m goin for a bath.
Oh right. Go ahead but try no to use all the hot water. Remember yer ma’ll want one as well.
Sean got back to the telly. He had a slurp of milk and felt it ease the burn in his guts. He leaned back in the couch and made a fag. A wildlife programme came on. The Serengeti. A cheetah family on the verge of starvation. Daddy cheetah’s been shot by poachers and his feet are for sale in some market in Lagos. Mammy cheetah was a single parent on the savannah with two youngsters to bring up. And one of them was sickly. Poor wee thing was limping a bit and didn’t get full shares of the grub.
Laws of the jungle Ah suppose said Sean to the telly. Mammy cheetah hid her kittens in a cave halfway up a cliff. She went hunting for a bit of gazelle for the Sunday dinner. The camera panned onto a young gazelle tottering beside its mother. Mammy cheetah sneaked up as far as she could. Her shoulder blades swivelled as she pushed through the high grass. Every now and then the gazelles stopped and put their noses in the air for a sniff. The cheetah stopped too. Then she broke through the
grass and ran at the awkward wee gazelle. It didn’t see the cheetah. It was too busy playing with a butterfly. It sensed something and looked for its family. But they’ve already run. For a moment the camera zoomed in on its eyes. Pure terror. The wee gazelle tried to run and dodge but the cheetah had being doing this for years. It swiped the back legs and the gazelle tumbled to the floor. The cheetah grabbed it, tumbled with it and bit into the back of its neck.
The phone went and Sean twitched and spilled milk down his hand. He put the bottle on the coffee table and wiped his hand on the back of his tracksuit as he walked to the phone. A quick draw on his fag and he picked the phone up.
Sean?
Sean’s pulse beat in his throat.
Aye.
Be at the Fiveways in ten minutes.
Sean opened his mouth to answer but the phone went dead. He couldn’t even say who it was. Archie or Sammy or somebody else.
He put the phone down and rested his hand on it for a few seconds. Then he picked it back up and dialled Gambo’s number.
That’s fuckin excellent Sean. We’ll have the cunt under lock and key before the night’s out.
Ah cannay say Ah feel good about this.
Get real wee man, coz at the end of the day it’s either you or him.
What are ye tryin to say?
We’re always goin to go for cunts like Archie. It would
only be a matter of time before we caught up with yeez. And who d’ye think we’d get first? Sean never said anything.
The delivery driver. One night we’d grab ye with the gear in the motor and it’ll be cheerio Sean. Who’ll look after the family then? Archie? Ah think not.
Aye maybe.
There’s no maybe about it. If Ah don’t hear from ye later, Ah’ll assume ye’ve swapped sides and ye’ll be as much of a target as him.
There’s no need for threats.
There’s every need. This is a war wee man, and Ah don’t take prisoners, so yer either on my side or ye v . What’s it to be?
Ah’ll phone ye later.
Make sure ye do.
Sean put the phone down. He sighed. Then he put his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet. He stood there and stretched.
Maggie came into the living room.
Was that them?
Aye.
She gave him a cuddle.
See ye later then.
He tried to make a joke.
No unless Ah get killed.
She wasn’t laughing.
That wasnay funny. Ah’ll see ye here the night.
He gave her a last kiss.
See ye.
He went through to the lobby and shouted up the stairs.
Donna.
Aye.
Ah’m away out.
What are ye tellin me for?
Just. Nothin. Have a good time at the club.
He turned the latch, pulled the front door open, and walked into the night.
The car park was dark. There was a Ford Escort half hidden under the drooping branches of a hawthorn tree. Sean headed for it. He could tell there was someone inside the car by the glow of two cigarettes. As he got closer he realised the window was rolled down and there was an elbow poking out. Closer still and he could make out Archie’s face in the driving seat. Sean crossed to the motor and hunched down next to Archie’s window.
Sammy looked at his watch and leaned across from the passenger seat.
Yer timin’s shite wee man.
How? Ah’m here in less than ten minutes.
Are ye fuck, yer two minutes late.
Sammy opened the door and swung himself off the passenger seat. He stood next to the motor with one hand on the door and the other on the roof.
Right Archie, Ah’ll see ye a bit later.
Archie slid across from the driver’s seat to the passenger’s seat.
Alright pal. Remember what Ah telt ye.
Aye no problem big man.
Sammy closed the door and looked through the motor to Sean.
See ye later wee man.
Archie turned to Sean.
Get in.
Sean got in the car. He adjusted the seat and checked the key was in the ignition.
Where to?
Head down the Royston Road towards Germie. Sean drove out of the car park and kicked the motor up through the gears.
Nippy wee motor.
Aye.
Sean dropped into third for a corner and the wheels screeched on the way round. Archie growled.
Take it easy ya stupid cunt.
Sean let off the accelerator and checked the mirrors.
So where are we off to?
Ye’ll find out when we get there.
They drove down the road and a car pulled out of a junction and came up behind them. Archie reached for the sun visor and pulled it down. He looked in the vanity mirror.
Ah hate cunts like that, drivin up yer arse.
Sean looked in the mirror.
Aye Ah know.
They came to GermistonGermiston and Sean looked at Archie.
Just keep to a steady thirty.
Straight ahead. Sean reached over and turned the radio on.
A wee bit of music eh?
Archie reached over and turned it off. They drove in silence for ten minutes.
Next left.
The motor behind them carried on the way it was going. Archie turned in his seat and had a look behind them. They drove into a scheme Sean hadn’t been in since he was a kid. Archie directed him with so many lefts and rights Sean ended up not sure where they were. They came to a bit where pensioners or people who cared about the street lived. Well-kept gardens with trimmed hedges and roses. Half-decent motors on the road and no youngsters leaning on lampposts or playing football.
Stop next to that Neighbourhood Watch sign.
Sean stopped. Archie got out of the car.
Get out.
Sean got out and locked up. Archie nodded towards the motor.
Put the key behind the front wheel and follow me. They walked down a cycle path until they came to a road with elm trees and long driveways. There was a Fiesta XR2 next to the exit of the cycle path. Archie pointed to the front wheel.
Keys are there.
Sean bent down and got the keys, opened the door, and started it up. He looked at Archie.
Where to now?
Head for the Blackie.
Sean laughed.
Bandit country.
Just fuckin drive.
He drove to Blackhill and on the edge of the scheme found a phone box. Archie got out and made a call. Sean waited. He wondered why Archie didn’t use his mobile. After a minute at the most, Archie ran out of the box, hands holding his pockets, and climbed back into the motor.
Drive down to the end and pull a left.
They turned into a road full of old cars. A gang of lads in tracksuits hung around the entrance of a single tower block at the end of the street.
Pull over behind that transit.
Sean stopped and Archie got out the car.
Ah’ll be ten minutes.
He slammed the door and swaggered up the path. He nodded to the lads and disappeared into the flats.
Sean turned on the radio and skinned himself a fag. He rolled the window down an inch or so, sparked the fag up and flicked the still-smoking match into the street. The fag was puffed till it was a soggy half inch between Sean’s fingers. He reached for the open window and dropped it outside. An Alsatian-type dog appeared at the side of the flats. In the distance it could have been a wolf. It loped through the communal gardens in a zigzag with its nose in the air. Something caught its attention and it darted to a fence, where it had a root about. It tore something from the ground and chewed. It twisted its head as it tried to swallow. Somebody walked out of the flats and the door banged behind them. The dog twitched sideways at the noise before resuming its search. It sniffed the corner of the tower and had a piss before it disappeared into the snowy waste.
The scheme was like something from an old black and white spy film. Concrete flats sprouting out of the tundra to house the workers of the Siberian oilfields. Nothing to do but work and drink and try to keep warm. Sean waited in the car as the Russian mafia counted their cash in a flat occupied by a single mother. Sometimes the gangsters would lace her with drink. They would take turns at fucking her while her children pretended to sleep in the next room. They would give her fifty roubles at the end of the deal and she’d be able to buy food and coal to keep her going till her next welfare cheque.
Sean rolled another fag as a woman with a fur coat and high heels walked up the street next to a boy on a mountain bike. She had a nice pair of legs. They walked past the motor and Sean watched them in the mirror till he heard a noise. He looked to the flats and saw his brother coming down the path. He turned the radio off as Archie climbed into the car with a Tesco carrier bag in his hand. He held it open so Sean could see the contents.
There’s four grand in there.
Archie took another wad of notes out of his pocket and put them in the bag.
That’s five all the gether.
Sean thought about the start him and Maggie could have in England with five grand. He looked in the bag again.
That’s a lot of money.
Yer fuckin right it is.
So where did that come from?
Archie touched the side of his nose.
Polis are ye?
D’ye have to gie them it back?
Fuckin right Ah will. And another two on top. Just as well junkies are such good thieves or Ah wouldnay be able to afford it. Sean laughed because he thought he should. Archie patted the bag.
We’ll have double that in the next couple of weeks. Sean thought about a new life with ten grand. Archie patted the bag again.
But we’ve got a lot of work to do before then. Archie put the bag on the back seat.
Right, c’mon let’s go.
Sean drove halfway back to the city centre and then Archie told him to pull over onto a lay-by that had a steep grass verge next to it.
Sean drove into the lay-by. At the top of the verge there was a wire fence and behind that a motor. He realised it was the same motor from the Fiveways car park. He turned off the engine and leaned back into his seat. Archie gave him directions for the delivery and told him what phone box he was to use when he’d picked up the parcel. When Sean repeated the instructions, Archie opened his door and got halfway out the motor.
And remember wee man, don’t fuck this up.
Ah willnay Archie, Ah promise.
Archie looked at Sean, then pulled himself clear of the motor.
See ye in a wee while.
He slammed the car door and ran, bent forward, up the verge. He helped himself on by grabbing at the branches of shrubs. Five years in the prison gym powered him up the slope. At the top of the verge he vaulted the fence with one hand on a post. Then he stood by the motor and gave a salute that took Sean right back to their childhood. Archie turned around and got in the passenger seat and the motor screeched away before the door was shut. Sean wondered if he gave Sammy a row about his driving.
The homesteader gave his whip an exaggerated sweep and cracked it above the horses. The animals reared against the harnesses. The wagon bucked and started to roll. Dust cut through the smell of sweat and shit and smacked him on the face. He pulled his neckerchief over his mouth and his hat down over his eyes. It was going to be a hard ride. The people he was likely to meet would be bandits who had long lost any values taught to them by their God-fearing families. Get caught in an ambush by those bastards and the best he could hope for was a lingering death in the desert. From sunburn and thirst.
He drove towards the motorway. It darkened when the road curved under the M8 and the air hissed with the sound of cars flicking past concrete columns. He lit a fag while he was stuck at a set of lights. Before he was finished it, the carriageway twisted out and up to the left, away from the traffic lights and onto the motorway.
It was a thirty-minute journey to the service station. Long enough for him to go over the consequences.
They were drummed into his head by the rhythm of the tyres drumming over the concrete. He flew along the middle lane with them driving him on faster and faster.
*
After the polis nabbed me that night, Ah stopped doin the deliveries. But it was a fuckin nightmare. The family had got used to the money. Maggie liked her night out and the flatscreen telly. The wean liked her extra wee bits of pocket money and the sweeties Ah’d drop into her on a Saturday mornin. Try no doin that for a coupla weeks and they look at ye different. As if yer some sort of tight-arse. Ah could only take that treatment for so long. Before Ah knew what was happenin, Ah was back at Archie’s door beggin for more bits of work.
And Ah wasnay just doin the one delivery a week. It was two or three. Ah’d drop parcels off and bring other ones back. Ah’d usually meet Archie in car parks. On the way home Ah’d have to phone him and he’d tell me where to go. Security is paramount he’d say, ye cannay be too careful in the drugs business. He couldnay insure against a snake in the grass.
Then it happened. Ah had just picked up a parcel and Ah got another tug. This time they knew what they were lookin for. Two motors pulled me into a lay-by and Gambo was in amongst them. He opened my car door and telt me to get out. Then he put his hand under the driver’s seat and pulled out the parcel. What’s this
then? he said. Ah said Ah didnay know, it wasnay my motor. So he pulled me into one of the cop cars for a wee word.
Yer in trouble now Sean he said when the door was closed. Ah looked out the car window at the other coppers havin a fag and a wee laugh. Gambo telt me to look at him. Ah did and he went into one about the length of time Ah’d get when this got to court. He hadnay even opened the parcel. It was sat on his lap and he’d point to it now and again as if Ah’d forgotten it was there. He asked me if Ah was goin to take the rap for Archie. Ah shrugged my shoulders and telt him Archie was my brother, so what could Ah do?
But Gambo wasnay daft. He knew where to get me. He drew a wee picture of me lyin in a cell and Archie round mine lookin after the house. He’d already seen Archie call round while Ah was at work. Stayed for an hour or so, then he’d walked off down the road whistlin. Gambo had seen Archie look at Maggie and he’d seen that look a million times. As soon as Ah was safely away, Archie would be round mine cuttin the grass, and Maggie looks like the sort of woman that likes gettin her grass cut.
That’s what done it. It wasnay all the batterins he’d gave me and the trouble with the polis. It was the fact that Ah knew he’d try and fuck her if he got half a chance. Ah couldnay have that. Ah mean, Maggie’s a strong woman but there was no way Ah was goin to leave her at that cunt’s mercy.
So Ah let Gambo follow me to the drop. When Ah got close, he hung back and waited for me to hand the
motor back to my brother. Archie ran up when Ah pulled onto the car park. He jumped into the passenger seat. Everythin alright? he said. Ah telt him aye and he gave me my money. Ah got out and he slid into the driver’s seat. He gave me a wave as he drove off. Ah watched him take the motor to the junction at the bottom of the street. That’s where they jumped him. Last thing Ah heard was armed police and Ah was off like a sprinter. Straight over somebody’s fence and through their garden.
Ah got to a phone box and telt Sammy what had happened. He said he’d sort things out and telt me to go home. And if the polis were to grab me, Ah was to say fuck-all. But that goes without sayin, know what Ah mean wee man? Ah said Aye and hung up. What else could Ah say?
*
Sean gripped the steering wheel tighter and bent forward to peer into the distance. Eventually a sign appeared.
Bothwell Services, that’s the one.
He clicked the indicator down and pulled the car to the left-hand lane. Three two one and he was on the slip road and up and round and into the car park. The wagon bumped and shook as it slowed down in the car park. The homesteader had to keep his hand on his hat to make sure it didn’t fall off. He kept his eye open for the silver Renault and there it was, with a black guy in
the driver’s seat. Sean pulled up beside it and rolled his window down. The black guy smiled.
Archie’s brother. Yer his double.
Sean had only ever heard a Scouse accent on the telly. He reached out the window and they shook hands. The Scouser picked up a holdall and showed it to Sean.
That’s your bag kid.
Sean held up the Tesco bag.
Cheers pal. Ah think this one’s yours.
They swapped bags. The Scouser had a quick look in the Tesco bag, nodded to Sean and started up his motor.
Happy camping lad.
Sean nodded.
Safe journey home.
And you.
The Scouser wound up his window, lit a fag and turned his stereo on. As his car left the parking spot, he winked at Sean and was away.
Sean wrapped the strap round the holdall and put it on the floor behind the passenger seat, put his car in reverse.
Giddy up.