Naw Much of a Talker (12 page)

Well done him! ah said. Ah like this guy. If ye ignore the arms trade bit, at least.

Valentin went oan wi his story. Aw the palm trees an’ exotic plants hid been brought back fae the Caribbean by this guy, an’ even the architecture: a real Cuban hid designed the
hoose fur him, Colonial style, the features wur aw original an’ very expensive.

When the hoose wis finished, he married the maist beautiful girl in the village an’ they’d a bunch ae beautiful weans.

Eftir that, he nivver lifted a finger again. Fur decades, he done nuthin except play billiards, go fur a walk, hiv a shave at the barbers, hiv his chauffeur drive him roon in a huge Yankie ride
an’ blow the money he’d made in Cuba. That wis the diffrince tae the rich ae today – cos nooadays, nae cunt pits in as much graft as the really rich, aw they entrepreneurs
an’ industrialists an’ mega managers who hiv long since made their billions, still jet aroon the world but, like overexcited ants, workin sixty- tae seventy-oor weeks tae continue
gettin richer until, literally, they drap fuckin deid.

The guy fae this hoose but hidnae made that mistake. Naw, he’d hid it pretty cushy, hid taken it easy an’ watched his weans grow up. The trees an’ aw. An’ cos he lived
tae be relatively auld, he managed tae blow pretty much aw that money cos when he finally died an’ the young yins wantit tae share oot whit he’d left tae them, there wis nuthin but
debts. That’s how they hid tae sell the hoose. Aboot 1940, that wis, so naw lang eftir the Spanish Civil War.

Then a German bought the hoose, some Nazi or ither who’d hid summit tae dae wi Franco. There wis a loat ae folk like that, in Spain back then. Folk didnae talk very much at the time aboot
that kinda stuff, an’ if they did, they kept it very quiet. It wis still the same nooadays, by the way. The hoose hid belonged tae the family ae that Nazi, first tae the wan son an’
then the grandweans, until wee Stofer bought it there. They’d pit the hoose oan the market cos, in recent years, they’d hardly ivver used it, an’ cos ae hoo much it wid cost tae
dae it up, even hawf-decent. Furra long time, nae cunt wantit it. They wur askin too much fur it.

Then, wan day, this Swiss guy turned up an’ looked sharp an’ bought it. He hid some notary come here fae Santander, quick chat, new entry in the land register, money oan the table
an’
muchas gracias.
Valentin knew aw this in such detail, he said, cos he’d been intristit himsel. Naw, he did, he knew aboot properties an’ stuff an’ hid known
right away the German family wis askin way over the odds.

Naw amigo, ah went. He wis probably mistaken oan that yin. Cos see this hoose, it hid belonged tae an uncle ae wee Stofer, an’ Stofer wis someone ah knew well. An’ when this uncle
died recently there, he’d left the hoose tae wee Stofer, presumably cos he’s nae weans ae his ain.

Nae fuckin way, Valentin said. Ah knew the German owners personally an’ in the last ten year, nane ae them died. They kidnae afford the upkeep jist ae the Nazi grandfaither’s hoose.
End of.

Odd, ah then say tae Regula. Extremely odd. Oor Stofer, wee Stofer, ae aw the runners in Oberaargau he’s the wan, sad cunt that he is, that’s aye tryin tae cadge a
fag, a beer or a few francs aff ye, yet he kin turn up in a Spanish village, say hi ivrywan, then: check that oot, a lovely villa, ah like that, whit yis askin fur it? Hawf a million, nae borra,
there ye go, take it, naw it’s fine like that, jist keep the change, bye fur noo an’ thanks, eh.

Mibbe Stofer’s a sly wee cunt an’ jist let oan he’d fuck-aw. The rich kin teach ye how tae save awright, Regula reckons.

Come aff it! If wee Stofer sees even a five-franc piece, it takes five minutes, max, fur that five-franc bit tae be turned intae rid wine an’ vanish. Listen, Regi, ah’ll gi’e
ye an example so ye know whit a tube Stofer is:

Right, afore ah done time in the Joke, ahd this flat fur a while in Aarwangenstrasse. Stofer wis livin in Niederbipp at the time. Dont ask me how Niederbipp, ae aw places, he
wis livin oot that way anyhow. Think aboot it: it’s mair than an oor by bike fae the Fog. If yir lamp’s too well-oiled anyhow. An’ then, wan evenin in the Spanish Club, the booze
wis indeed flowin, nae shortage ae it, an’ he’d hid too much cognac or whitivver.

Fuck me, he gi’es it, ma heid’s totally spinnin. Oan some kinda high, ah am. Ah dont feel like goin back tae Niederbipp thenight. Kin ah kip at yours, Goalie?

Ahm like that: Nae bother. Ahm goin hame tae ma bed thenoo but. He but, he wantit tae sit oan fur a while. Kid he jist show up at mine later? So ah tellt him the hoose number an’
explained: second flair, left-haun door, door wid be open, an’ he kid crash oan the couch jist, ahd leave a blanket oot fur him, an’ nane ae his fuckin crap, thank-you-very-much. So ah
take masel aff hame. Wee Stofer carried oan drinkin at the Spanish Club meanwhile. Probably moved oan tae some ither place too.

Next mornin, ah get up an’ go tae see is he still in the land ae nod. Ma sofa’s got naebody oan it but, there’s nae sign ae wee Stofer. Aha, ah think tae masel, he didnae come,
he found somewhere else tae kip. Fine by me.

An’ when ah see the cunt in the village naw long eftir that, ah ask where he slept then, last Saturday night.

Where d’ye think? At yours, Goalie. As agreed. Thanks again, by the way.

Whit d’ye mean ‘at mine’? Ye wurnae at mine.

Naw, ah wis. Course, ah wis. Ah done exactly whit ye tellt me, such an’ such a number, third flair oan the left, door wis open so in ah went an’ crashed oan the sofa, oot fur the
coont right away ah wis.

Whit d’ye mean ‘third flair’? Second flair, wee man, second flair oan the left. Didnt ah tell ye: second flair, left!

Fuckin shit, wee Stofer goes, ah musta slept aw night in some ither cunt’s flat, some cunt ah dont even know. Who the fuck lives above ye, Goalie?

Ye see, Regi, that’s the kinda guy Stofer is, cannae tell the diffrince between two an’ three, yet manages tae get through life.

Ah dont believe it, she goes. Valentin an’ aw asked: wis that aw true?

Course it is. Whit ur yis thinkin?

Incredible, she said. That’s got nowt tae dae wi the hoose but. Mibbe Stofer’s uncle didnae leave him an actual hoose, but a smaw fortune? Regula – ah kid tell – wis
makin a final attempt tae find a logical explanation fur the hale situation. Ye kid see but she didnae believe it hersel.

If he’d been left money, he’d hiv said so, an’ naw spelt oot how his uncle hid left him the hoose. Naw, Regula, there’s only wan reasonable explanation fur this: Stofer
isnae clean an’ there’s summit naw-clean aboot this hoose an’ aw.

Valentin wis surprised this wis gi’in us sae much food fur thought. How couldnt we jist enjoy bein able tae be here? Ah hid tae admit he wis right. So we changed the subject an’
talked aboot the ither villages in the region insteid.

Later that night but, it wis daein ma heid in. Even if ah didnae want tae say anythin tae Valentin, ah wis suddenly thinkin this stupit story hid summit tae dae wi ma trial
an’ the time ah done in the Joke. Cos aw that stuff wi the strange French guy – or Arab or whitivver he wis – wis aw tae dae wi a loatae cash an’ nae cunt knew whit hid
happened tae it, least ae aw me, even if the judge wis constantly askin me. Back then, ah didnae want tae brood aboot it too much. Noo but, it hid come over me an’ ahd nae choice in the
matter. Broodin’s like any ither physical need: like sleepin, fur instance, or eatin or pissin, ye kin pit it aff furra while, some folk kin pit it aff fur longer than others, at some point
but ye jist hiv tae dae it. So ah wis lyin there so ah wis an’ kidnae stop thinkin ahd mibbe done time in the Joke fur the hoose ah wis noo lyin in.

The next day, Regula an’ me went furra walk an’ ended up in a village where there’s a mineral spring that’s famous in the region. That disnae
necessarily mean but that ye hiv tae order a mineral water if ye go intae a pub in a mineral-water-village. Ah ordered hawf a litre ae rid. An’ fur starters: a nice cauld Mahou beer tae set
me up first, an’ a sherry fur Regula.

Across fae me in the pub wis a picture ae wan ae they
femme fatales.
Tae be mair exact, cowerin in the picture wis a woman whose face looked aboot thirty, she’d
the body but ae a young dancer, or whitivver, well-toned, shipshape fae heid tae toe. She wis wearin wan ae they semi-see-through tops too, that let ye see the breasts shimmerin through. Perfect
they wur, by the way, really nicely painted. She wis wearin they leggins an’ aw, like fur the gym. Figure-huggin, they wur an’ aw. It wis really well painted, naw totally naturalistic,
mair a wee bit unusual, as if, aye, ye wantit tae show ivrythin exactly how it wis, but also wantit tae gi’e the reality yir ain touch but. Ah widnae be able tae paint like that, that’s
fur sure. Even if ah wantit tae. An’ many an artist ah know kidnae eether.

So ah looked at this picture, marvelled at it fur the longest time, said tae Regula tae look at it an’ aw – it fascinated me sae much. An’ she, the woman in the picture, made a
sortae face at me, dont know how ah shid describe it. She wis comin oan a bit sluttish or whitivver, a bit alang the lines ae: Mon then, if yir a real man! Take a haud ae me – unless yir
feart tae. Dead erotic it wis, really – an’ naw in a cheap way. Naw, in a mair artistic way. That’s the diffrince atween art an’ aw that primitive shite, ah thought tae
masel: wi this picture, ye kin see that the lust is jist wan ae many diffrint aspects. Regula thought it wis impressive an’ aw.

Cos Regula wisnae jist lookin at the picture, but lookin roon the bar an’ aw, she suddenly whispered tae me tae hiv a close look at the landlady. How? ah asked. Jist, says Regula. Okay, ah
go, an’ ah see a woman ae aboot fifty, grey hair, a natural-coloured knitted pullover, nae make-up, the close-tae-nature pottery-maker or eurythmics-teacher type, we’d wan in the jail
like that an’ aw who done work therapy wi us.

When ahd studied her long enough, ah asked Regula whit it wis aboot the woman. She says nuthin. So ah look at her again, the landlady. She looked like aw kinds ae things. Above aw but, in a
worryin way, she wis sexless, completely asexual. Ahm only stressin that cos, itherwise, almost ivry human bein, even the ugliest cunts oot, hiv summit aboot them that minds ye we’re aw
sexual beins. The landlady but his nuthin. It wis as if she wis naw masculine, naw feminine, but neuter.

Then Regula nods discreetly at the picture oan the wall an’ again at the landlady an’ finally, the penny draps! She wis the
femme fatale
in the picture, jist twenty year
aulder. That felt totally odd. Ye felt like a voyeur, starin intae the private life ae someone who wis noo twenty year aulder an’ only in the picture wis she still young an’
seductive.

Regula, ah said, if ye ivver let a painter paint ye, ye hiv tae promise me ye’ll hing it somewhere where naw ivry jerk kin stare at it fur twenty years.

She promised me an’ ah ordered anither hawf a litre, mainly so ah kid check oot the landlady fae up close.

Wis she fae this area? ah asked her.

Naw, she wis French.

Nice picture yiv got hingin there.

Aye, her husband painted it.

Ma compliments! He’s guid so he is.

The trip tae Spain ended wi a wee argument. Nuthin bad, a bit unpleasant aw the same. That’s ma weakness, ah guess. Ah nivver manage tae take care ae people ah like.
It’s a bit like the a-bit-handicapped guy in that novel, the wan aye pittin mice in his trooser pocket cos he wants tae pet them. Then but, he his too much strength an’ squashes them
tae death. He likes mice. He disnae want tae harm them. Naw that that’s ae any help. He cannae help himself, squeezes too hard. Similar shit’s aye happenin tae me, wi human beins but.
Naw physically. Mentally. Ah nip the brains ae folk that ur important tae me sae much, they get tired ae listenin tae me an’ turn away.

Okay, so while we wur in Spain still, ah tellt Regula aw aboot me. Ahd say ahd only ivver the best ae intentions: ah wis thinkin she’d then know a bit better whit she wis
gettin involved wi. Ah tellt her aboot ma schooldays, ma family, oor part ae toon, aboot the Reitplatz, the forest, ma apprenticeship, ma first falls, ma first travels, whit ah read an’
listened tae when ah wis twenty, books, music, aw stuff that meant fuck-aw tae her. Nuthin mad. Course naw. Jist they things that – if ye piece them aw thegither – make ye the person ye
ur.

Tae start wi, that wis okay like that. Ah wis a guid guy, she said, kid tell a guid story, ah wisnae wan ae they tightlipped cunts like Buddy who faw silent an’ cut themsels aff when
there’s summit tae discuss, or insteid ae jist sayin whit’s botherin them. At some point but, she’d overdosed oan ma stories. The accusation soon came: ah wis only talkin so as
naw tae hiv tae listen. An’ above aw, ah wisnae really talkin aboot masel at aw. Naw, ah wis jist aye tellin some story or ither. Bottom line bein: howivver much ah waffled oan, ah
wisnae
– ah wisnae much of a talker.

Whit is it ye want, Regi, ah said. It’s naw as if ah hiv tae listen tae ye: ah kin feel ye, ah kin see aw the way through you, ah think ae nuthin but you, the hale time. Yir aye there,
present fur me. Know summit? When ah touch ye, ah know mair aboot ye than if ah wis tae listen tae ye aw day. An’ if ahm tellin ye aw these things, you’re included in whit ah mean.
Ivrythin ah tell ye, ahm tellin only you that way. Anyone else, an’ ah wid tell it diffrint.

Explainin it aw wis pointless. She said it wisnae oan. Naw like that, it wisnae. She kidnae help feelin ah wis aw talk. A patter-merchant. She didnae mean it in a bad wey: ah wis guid at tellin
stories. Whit ah needed but wisnae a woman, but an audience.

That’s naw true. Ahm enough ae an audience fur masel masel. Okay but, if ye want us tae kick any problems we might hiv aroon an’ fling accusations at each ither, that’s fine
an’ aw. Ahm listenin. Ah’ll shut ma gob. Oan ye go – tell me, Regi. Tell me. Ahm aw ears.

She didnae want tae tell me anythin. She’d the feelin but, it wid be better mibbe if ah cut doon oan the alas-poor-yoricks an’ mulled things o’er mair. Cos wan thing hid become
clear tae her: ahd the wrang friends.