But people didnt do things like that. They didnt do things as simple as that. They had to do it in a devious sort of — they had to be devious, that was it, they just had to be fucking devious. That was it, that was human nature, they just had to be fucking devious. Even the boy — eighteen years of age and just as devious as the rest of them. All he had to do was tell them and that would’ve been that. But no; what he does is fuck off and then gives a phonecall from a fucking motorway cafe. And Babs is up to fucking high doh worrying about it. Unbelievable. Just like a fucking wee wean. Eighteen years of age! Ronnie had been his father at that age. Eighteen! Fuck sake. It’s no that young. It’s young, but no that young. Eighteen. Christ Almighty.
It was getting dark. What time was it? When he was in the pub it was 7. It was after that. Nearer 8, when he left. Probably it was 9, it’d be 9 now. And they’d think he would be really paralytic. It could even be after 9.
Heh Ronnie!
Christ! McInnes! McInnes had come after him. McInnes. Where was he? He wasnt here at all. It hadnt been a shout. But it was like a shout. As if somebody had shouted on him. An apparition. A fucking ghost! The docks was a creepy place but, deserted and fucking derelict. And this pier, how you could see the actual particles of coaldust lapping in on the surface of the water, onto the steps for fuck sake, if you wanted to commit suicide you’d choose a better place, you wouldnt want to fucking choke, if you wanted to fucking choke you’d do something else altogether, a bottle of fucking pills maybe.
What did he buy it for? He shouldnt’ve bought it.
Ach well. It was too late. He had it and that was that. Poor old bastard. Maybe he wouldnt race it at all, maybe he would just keep it as a pet, and fuck them. Bastards.
Here was somebody else coming. Another couple.
That was funny how the shout had happened, it sounding like a shout, from inside the head. And it was McInnes; it was his voice. It wasnt Babs for instance, if you’d expected that, because maybe to do with telepathy, her thinking he was about to do himself in or somefuckingthing and so trying to reach out to him, the way twins are supposed to.
She would maybe be worrying about him now. Would she? Aye, she would be, she would be worrying about him because he hadnt phoned. Fuck sake, of course she would; what was the fucking point of fucking, trying to fucking keep it away, of course she’d be fucking worrying about him. On top of the boy; on top of the boy she would now be worrying about him. And the lassies, they’d know something was up because they’d see the way she was looking; if they were watching the telly, they’d see she wasnt really seeing what was on, her attention would be fucking, it would be nowhere near it, wondering if the phone was going to ring; and the boy as well, if he was okay — London for fuck sake, what could happen down there, things were bad down there, weans on the street, having to sell themselves to get by, the things that were happening down there, down in London, to young lassies and boys, it wasnt fucking fair, it was just fucking terrible, it was so fucking terrible, it was just so fucking terrible you couldnt fucking man you fucking Jesus Christ trying to think about that it was Christ it was so fucking terrible, it was so bad. Ronnie had the cigarette packet in his hand and he opened it and took out one; when he was smoking he returned it and the book of matches to his pocket. He inhaled twice without exhaling, let it all out in a gasp. He leaned his shoulder against the fence, inhaled again, exhaling the smoke through his nostrils. He would just tell Babs something or other, what the fuck he didnt know, it didnt fucking matter; what did it matter, it didnt fucking matter.