It wasnt.
Naw. Although he preferred it … he said he did anyway — fuck, that guy was a beacon. Ye aye knew: here is one guy that still exists in the world, a proper reader, a proper thinker, somebody that knows pppolitics and fucking fuck knows what, history! Everything!
Dont look for excuses.
Excuses for what?
To finish with yer job. If ye want to finish the job then finish it.
I am finished with it.
Cath smiled at me for a moment.
I am finished with it, I said.
Oh.
I didnt think you were listening to me.
I was.
I am finished with it.
She nodded.
At least with Jimmy I could talk about stuff. See that crowd nowadays, they are so ignorant. But they think they know everything. They actually believe the Scottish Nationalists are a left-wing party, them and the Lib Dems. Honest! At the same time but if ye want to vote socialist ye vote for the Labour Party. Unless ye’re an extremist. In that case ye vote for the Scottish Socialists! Honest, that’s what they think. Ye ever heard such crap! But they actually believe it.
Cath sighed.
They know nothing so they cannay think. They cannay think because they know nothing.
She might have been listening to me. She lifted an ashtray from the mantelpiece, planked herself down on the one armchair in the entire room, laying the ashtray beside her on the shoogly fucking wee coffee table that aye collapsed if I even looked at the stupid thing. She pulled her legs up, covering her shoulders with a woolly article, tugging the nightdress down to cover her legs. She inhaled on the cigarette and shivered. I was about to walk to her but my foot kicked a teddy bear. Imagine that, a teddy bear. My daughters were ten and twelve and they still fucked about with teddy bears.
I hated using the word ‘fuck’ when referring to one’s off spring. But there we are.
Look at that, I said, and stooped to pick it up. It’s got one of these ears ye see on the Antiques Roadshow.
No it doesnt.
It’s probably worth an effing fortune!
If it’s got a button in the ear. Only if.
Is that right?
Yeh.
Christ.
Cath smiled.
Why dont you go to nightschool and do a course on antiques? I think you could earn a fortune. You have a feel for it. At the same time …
Yes?
I shrugged.
Cath was looking at me.
Fancy a go?
What?
Nothing.
You’re so edgy.
I’m not.
Then ye jump down my throat.
I dont really, it’s just the way it comes out. Things get to me. I try not to let them but they do. Just now they do. It’s no to do with being edgy, I just get a tight feeling.
Oh so you want me to worry about heart attacks?
Not at all. I raised my hand to my upper chest and rubbed in a circular motion.
She watched me. Have ye got indigestion?
A touch.
She swung her legs down from the seat. She said, I take it ye were talking about sex?
Who me?
I know you.
You know me!
I do.
Ye think ye know me.
Okay, she said, but were you talking about sex?
Yes but we’ll have a drink of tea first.
She swung her legs back on to the seat. Called yer bluff as usual.
I chuckled, passing her a mug of hot water with a dod of lemon floating about.
Just relax, she said, for a change.
My feet will be freezing.
Good.
What d’ye mean good!
Cath smiled. Wash them, that will heat them up. They’re probably ponging.
Oh man.
Some people would go for a shower.
But I’m just finished my work!
Dont wheedle.
Well really, I’m not wheedling. I paused, smiled in a conspiratorial manner. You think you’ve got the upper hand dont you?
She exhaled smoke towards me. I awaited her comment. None came. I closed my eyes. I thought she might have spoken then but she didnt. Thus I would have to.
No. I didnt have to, not at all. Of course I didnt, nobody is obliged to speak. Sometimes I cannay get the hang of that obvious truth, people like me, we cant. And evil fuckers like the gaffer play on it. Honest. Will we ever be free of the shite, the degradation — because that is what it is, degradation. We are degraded man! Will they ever leave us alone? Ye wonder but.
Cath gazed at me.
Ye know what he called me? a throwback; he called me a throwback.
What did you do?
Me?
Yes.
What did I do? I cannot remember.
Is he afraid of you?
You joking?
I wouldnt be too sure.
He’s paranoiac right enough.
There ye are, said Cath.
He thinks I’ve got the young team on my side.
Who?
The younger ones. He thinks they listen to me. They do but only about football; only if I dont lecture them about ppppolitics; they cannay cope with ppppolitics.
Cath listened but was not smiling. I saw the anxiety. Smoke didnt relax her. I was glad I had stopped.
I wished I could help her stop. I wished I could help her period. Just about the future, I wasnay sure about the future. It was a long time till I retired. Maybe we could go someplace. Anyway, she was going back to work herself. If she could get a job. She spoke about getting a job but how did she know she would get one, she didnay even know she would get one, fucking dreamworld.
Oh man.
What is it? she said.
I spoke out loud eh …! I smiled. Come here, take a look outside the window. Come on! Take a look! Blue sky … nothing but blue sky.
She made no move. She held the mug of tea in her right hand, close by her cheek. I like the way women do that; every last ounce of heat, ye want to extract it.
Intract it, she said.
Intract it! Take it out and put it in.
Dont be vulgar.
I smiled. Cath puffed on her cigarette. Or interact, I said. That must be where the word comes from.
Where’s the toast? Did ye not make toast? I thought ye were hungry?
To be honest, no.
I’ll make ye something.
Dont bother.
I’ll just finish my smoke first.
I can make it myself.
Cath smiled. I watched her inhale again on the cigarette. Two puffs in two seconds. What if she died? I nodded. If you dont stop smoking you will die. Do ye know that?
She blew smoke at me. I grinned and shouted at the ceiling. Heh God! There’s a woman down here trying to kill herself!
Cath covered her mouth with her right hand: Oh ya blaspheming pig ye, you’ll go to hell.
She was really laughing and I laughed too. I swallowed some tea, set the mug on the arm of the chair, then transferred it to the floor. She was watching me. I reached down and lifted it, transferred it to a safer place, the damn table.
Good boy.
I saluted her. Mon capitaine. I returned to the window. There are scarecrows down below skipper. Think I should toss them a lifeline? I cupped my hand to my mouth: Leave them to suffer bosun, leave them to suffer! It’s the only way they’ll learn. Aye aye sir!
What ye blethering about!
Nothing, I’m just cracking up.
Linda’s coming home at dinner time.
What about dinner-school?
She asked to stay off.
My god. In my day we would have gave wur eyeteeth for school dinners.
Cath was stubbing her cigarette out.
Far below the window the docile subjects wended their weary way back and forward and back and forward.
Is that you talking to yerself again!
I always think of that painting by Breughel, the one with all the people, and the horses and dogs; the village scene.
You’re wrong to think of that one.
How come?
Because it is the slaughter of the innocents.