— You… look, he says, fighting down his exasperation, as he stands and looks around for an ashtray. He gestures towards one of my plants and I shoot him a look that says ‘don’t even think about it’. He moves to the window, takes two quick puffs and flicks the cigarette outside. — Dinnae be like that. C’mon. Gie it a try. At least come in wi me and see how the business works.
— I’ll consider it, I tell him, basically just to get him to go.
— That’s ma girl, he says encouragingly. I lean over to the stereo and turn up my music and he takes the hint and leaves, screwing up his face and putting his fingers to his ears.
17.
BIKE CRASH
SO WIR COMIN tae the outskirts ay the toon, and ah’m thinking again, thank fuck we’ve made it, that Kravy cunt is fuckin fearless, weavin in n oot ay traffic, aw they fuckin lanes, like we were icons oan a PS 2 game, but now Cooden is in sight! Wur tearin roond the bend at high speed… but then wir gaun naewhaire…
… ah’m oaf the bike n ah’m sortay flutterin through the air like a butterfly, n ah seem tae be gaun that slow that whin ah come tae rest it’ll be like oan this bed ah pillays but then ah feel this impact, it’s like an explosion but yin comin fae inside ay ma boady! Then, for a bit, thir’s a strange peace. It’s like huvin aw the rest ah’ve ever been promised, before ah n git woke by a rustlin sound aw ower n aroond ays. Eftir a bit ah realise thit ah’m lyin stuck in the branches ay a tree.
Ah look doon n thair’s Kravy sitting up, but slumped forward at the bottom ay this big oak tree next tae mine, like ehs huvin a wee nap. Thir’s like this big streak ah dark rid paint runnin up the tree above him. It looks fresh. Ah cannae see whaire it’s come fae. Ah hear a craw screechin. Then ah see where the stuff oan the tree’s come fae, Kravy’s neck. Cause thir’s jist a rid stump wi a bit ay bone in it comin oot ay the boy’s shoodirs. Cause the hoor’s heid’s missin.
Fuckin
Eftir checkin baws, eyes, airms, legs n that order, n aye, thir aw thair, ah starts tae climb doon. Muh hands are tearin and bleedin oan the branch n the foliage but it disnae bother ays as ah feel fuckin weird: sortay numbed and wired at the same time. Ah gits tae the bottom ay the tree tae git a right look at Kravy. Ah moves closer.
Aw ya hoor, aye, ah wisnae seein things.
Eh’s nae fuckin heid.
Thir’s jist a stump ay neck, ah kin see the spine, it’s been severed cleanly like by a fuckin guillotine, blood still bubblin fae it, pumpin up oot ay the body which is twitchin away like eh’s comin up oan a pill. It’s still like eh’s muckin aboot, playin some sort ay daft trick, n ah’m looking around fir the heid, expectin tae see it wi a big grin. Thir’s nowt but, Kravy’s gone.
Ah feel rain droplets hittin my heid n shoodirs, n ah look up. Yin lands rid oan muh white T-shirt. It’s Kravy’s blood, sprayed up intae the leaves n branches ay the tree, now droapin back doon oan ays.
Turnin roond n lookin up the bankin, pittin ma hand ower muh eyes tae keep the sun n blood oot ay thum, ah see the bike lyin oan the road where it skyted ower. A car’s stoaped and cause ah’m covered wi Kravy’s blood this auld boy in a checked jaykit’s goat oot n eh’s shoutin at ays, sayin, — Ur ye hurt?
— Naw, ah’m awright, ah shouts back.
— But you’re covered wi blood!
Ah start tae laugh at that. — Aye, ah say, for some reason thinking ay the lassies Soakin Wi Rain n Roastin Wi Sweat. Ah could be the felly fir the threesome wi thaime, right enough. — Ah’m Covered Wi Blood, ah admit, lookin at the claret oan my ripped airms n no really kennin or carin whether it’s mine or muh boy’s. — But muh mate… eh’s loast ehs heid.
— It’s easily done, the speed those things can get up to, the auld boy goes. — It’s so dangerous driving a motorbike. Was he on drugs?
— Jist a wee bit ay tarry n a pint at the Sally up in Perth, ah say as the boy moves ower tae the verge. Eh sees Kravy’s body and goes, — Oh my God… it’s a real person, his head’s missing… oh my God… n eh starts tae boak n lurches back tae the motor. Then eh’s straight on the mobby.
Aw ah kin think ay is ehs ma in the hoaspital, n for some reason her gash that Kravy came ootay aw they years ago, so cruelly exposed by the Young Team oan thon Blue Brazil website.
N ah kin see whit’s happened, ya hoor; the sharp edge ay that road sign thit says ‘REDUCE SPEED NOW’ hus been bent ower, by some Young Team vandal, nae doots, n Kravy’s come oaf the bike at speed wi me n ehs heid’s been in line wi it…
Aw naw.
The sign has an edge ay rid blood oan yin side, specklin oot across it. Like a fuckin guillotine; Central Fife, totally fuckin medieval, ya hoor.
But whaire’s ma boy’s heid?
Ah dives right intae the thick bushes and rows ay nettles, lookin for the heid, it’s still gaunny be in the crash helmet, it’ll no huv gone far, surely. Then ah hears the cloppin ay hoof oan the road n voices n the auld boy’s sayin, — Don’t look, girls, come away…
N ah hears Jenni, — But it’s our friend… then she shouts, — Jason! Are you okay!
— Please, stay back, there’s been a terrible accident! the old felly says.
Ah’m waist-high in jaggy nettles but turns n looks up n ah sees Lara’s hudin back, looking aw shocked but Jenni’s comin forward. — JASON!
Ah goes, — Aye, ya hoor, ah’m awright, bit ah cannae find ma mate’s fuckin heid, eh no.
So ah’m still rummagin aroond in the big forest ay jaggy nettles lookin fir Kravy’s heid in the rid helmet, but ah feel muh legs gaun n ah try tae squat doon for a bit, jist like, tae rest fir a bit, but ah feel ma stomach risin up n me cowpin forward, n when ah wake up ah’m in the fuckin hoaspital, ya hoor!
18.
HEAD
HIS FRIEND WAS so good-looking; the beautiful boy who left this town on his motorcycle and made a new life in Spain. I had visions, dreams, of him taking me there with him, on the back of it, or anywhere away from here.
But to my great surprise I’m relieved that Jason’s alright; that it’s his friend who’s gone and not him. — I’m going to go and visit Jason up at the hospital, I say absent-mindedly, as I load some crockery into the dishwasher, first pushing Indy out the way to get the door open, as she’s slumped over the worktop, reading a comic.
— That ham shanker. It would have been better off if he’d went the same wey as his daft mate, my dad moans, as he spreads himself some peanut butter on his oatcakes.
I don’t rise to his bait, but then my mother, who is sitting at the kitchen table doing her nails, chips in. — He has a family and friends of his own, Jenni. You have to wise up to people like that. They do tend to take advantage. They just can’t help themselves.
— Like Dad did with you, I respond.
— No! You don’t know what you’re talking about — she trills as I head out towards the door, then screeches in panic, — Come back here when I’m talking to you!
I laugh loudly, continuing my exit. — Under no circumstances. You’re so inherently trivial and inconsequential!
— What does inconsequential mean? Indigo asks, looking up from the comic. She’s now sprawled right across the worktop, like a cat.
— It doesn’t mean anything, my mother shrieks. — It means that Jennifer thinks that she knows best, as usual! And you: get down from there and sit on the chair!
I hear Indy saying something under her breath as I depart, then voices getting raised. I enjoy a buzz of gleeful satisfaction, happy that I’ve wound them all up. Outside, it’s a miserable day, dirty rain falling in sheets and you can feel the bronchitis incubating in your chest. So I drive up to the hospital in Dunfermline, where I went with Jason when he was admitted yesterday. When I get onto the ward there are screens around his bed. I feel panic rising inside of me, envisaging him fighting for his life, but they’re suddenly whipped open as a red-headed nurse appears. As she removes Jason’s bedpan I catch his bulging eyes ogling her.