‘Why d’you see her then?’
‘Don’t know. Suppose if I had a job I wouldn’t go but she’s not bad in ways — buys the kid stuff and drops Betty now and then. Extra couple of quid comes in handy.’
‘Wouldn’t be me.’
‘What you talking about?’ Mick sneered. ‘Pride or something?’
‘For a couple of quid,’ replied John quietly. ‘I wouldn’t take it.’
‘Try living on a tenner a week then come and tell me!’
‘Why don’t you go south? Said you were thinking about it.’
‘Well why should I man, I mean I’m from Glasgow. Why the hell should I go down there to live?’
‘Work! I mean you liked it down there before you got married.’
‘Well five years married! I’ve changed. It’s not too bad, me and Betty get on okay together apart from her mother. Anyway. .’ he grinned, ‘. . I like it on the broo. Plenty of time to read and that, it’s not a bad life.’
‘Never have a penny.’
‘Don’t need it. Hardly bothers me at all now. Really!’
‘You’re a liar.’
Mick laughed. ‘I’m telling you man. Don’t need any. Take a pound a week to myself and Betty buys me the tobacco. Tell me what I need money for?’
‘That’s no way to live.’
‘Suits me.’
‘What about the kid?’
‘What about him?’
‘Surely you want him to get something better?’
‘Well if he wants to get a job down south I won’t stop him.’
‘Christ that’s no way to live.’
Mick laughed again and refilled the glasses. ‘Probably one of the most contented men in Britain when I think about it. If I could get an old cottage in the country — stay the summer — Glasgow in the winter. They send you your broo money when you stay in the wilds! Christ what a life eh?’
‘So you’ve given up? Very surprised. Really am, I mean it’s a load of piss. Balderdash!’
‘What you going to do?’ asked Mick still smiling.
‘Don’t know but I’m not going to give up like that.’
‘Still going to night school?’
‘Aye!’
‘How’s it coming on?’
‘Not bad, thinking of going to college. Get enough highers for the uni. Strathclyde or something. . Technical maybe. Engineering. .’
‘You?’ Mick gaped in astonishment.
‘Not think I’ve got the ability or something? Fuck me what’s up at all? I’m only twenty-four for God sake!’
‘Didn’t mean that. Just can’t imagine you,’ he stopped and smilingly said, ‘No offence.’
‘Cheeky bastard! Seriously, you should try it too. All those books you read — no trouble, start putting them to use! If I can do it you’d guy in. How far!’
‘Interesting maybe — but I’d still have to get a job after wouldn’t I?’
John shook his head slowly.
‘What you shaking your head about?’
‘Doesn’t matter.’
‘I know it doesn’t matter. You don’t.’
‘You’ll have to get a job sooner or later.’
‘Why?’
‘Ach forget it man. Forget it.’ He smiled. ‘Just don’t come tapping me when I hit the big time.’
Mick hooted derisively. They continued drinking silently for a time.
‘Seriously though you’ve got no plans?’
‘None at all,’ answered Mick happily refilling the glasses once more.
‘Must be something?’
‘Might go into politics.’
‘What?’
‘Aye, there’s this bird from the Young Socialists keeps coming up to see me and when she first saw my books asked me to join them. Says I’m a Natural Leader.’
‘Young Socialists by fuck you’re nearly thirty.’
‘Don’t know where you get these ideas about my age.’
‘Come on.’
‘No! Really! I’m only twenty-five! Anyway she keeps on coming back. Suppose she must fancy me. Or maybe it’s my mind she’s after. Wants to save me — says I’ve given up too.’ He grinned. ‘Funnily enough she wants me to get my highers and all that piss. Nobody believes I’m really enjoying life. Fuck them all!’ Mick declared with a flourish, knocking over his latest whisky in the process.
‘You’re blotto!’
‘Shite!’
‘Anyway. .’ John stood up and walked to the door.
‘Want to see a doctor about your bladder.’
John laughed and staggered out to the lavatory. When he returned Mick was refilling the glasses again.
‘Here’s to your seance-in-law!’ he cried and downed half his whisky.
‘I’m steaming man you know that?’ John sank into his chair and wearily lifted his glass. ‘Went for that piss there. . fresh air and that. .’
‘You know I might. .’ Mick broke off. ‘When you getting married again?’
‘Week on Saturday. Isn’t it?’
‘Week on Saturday eh?’
‘I have this feeling I’m going to spew my guts.’
‘Your house.’
‘You staying the night?’
‘No got to get back. Going to Bearsden the morning. Didn’t tell you that eh? Jesus Christ! Sad! Going to Bearsden the morning. better go I think.’
‘We’ll finish the bottle before I’m sick. Should I be sick first? Who can tell eh?’
‘Who can tell? Imagine going to Bearsden in the morning?’
‘Not change your mind about the stag?’
‘No. Like to — but reasons. Reasons!’
‘Well you should be there. Best man and that should be at the stag’s what I think. Still as long as you get me to that church eh? Who cares?’
‘Not me man. Couldn’t care less. I’m going to see you week on Saturday bright and early if not before. No bother.’
‘Repeat that?’
‘Quite simple.’ Mick stood up and stretched, almost toppling over with the effort.
‘Here!’ John poured another drink. ‘For the road. Courage for Bearsden. Jesus!’ He stared at the bottle. ‘Almost done the lot in!’
‘Oh!’ John yelled and crashed down onto his armchair.
‘What’s up?’
‘The robbery!’
‘What?’
‘Forgot to tell you the plan. Listen I’m going to rob banks in future. Natural Leader eh? Well listen to this — came to me last night in bed. A genius! Going to organise all the men on the broo. Guess how?’
‘How?’
‘Going to get a meeting together and put across the plan. Maybe two hundred guys on the broo right? Well imagine two hundred men walking into a bank. Okay give us the money! Christ a small army! Who could stop us? Nobody would know punters or robbers! Busies couldn’t do fuck all either! Two hundred handed! What busies could stop us?’
‘Jesus!’
‘Brilliant eh?’
‘Don’t know if it’d work. You think it’d work?’
‘Easy! No bother man. Two hundred handed! If they were all organised! Easy, and when we got outside we just split up and walk away and who could tell who was who? Nobody would recognise a face or anything. Genius! Anyway ponder on it. I’m going home. See you on the Saturday. Busies couldn’t do a thing. Maybe do three or four a week. Wouldn’t know what hit them. Ponder on it.’
‘Okay.’
‘You still going to be sick?’
‘Probably.’
‘Come on the broo! Sa great life. You can rob banks or anything. Screw Young Socialists. Fight with seance-in-laws. Can’t beat it man.’
‘Good night Natural Leader.’
‘Still going to college and getting married and all that?’
‘Without fail it’s what’s going to happen I think.’
‘Headbanger! Remember and buy me a best man present.’
The door banged shut behind the best man, shortly before John retched the night up.