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Authors: Danny Gillan

Scratch (52 page)

BOOK: Scratch
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I wasn’t in the mood for games. Hadn’t been for a while. ‘I’m fine, Simon. What do you want?’

‘Nothing in particular,’ he said. ‘Louise and I are moving back to
Galway
next month and I thought I might say goodbye before we left.’

‘She finally talked you into it, then?’

‘It’s more that the timing is right.’

‘And why’s that?’

‘I honestly couldn’t say, James. I seem to be ready to make the move now, whereas I hadn’t been before. Nothing changed, except my mind. It’s a curious phenomenon. Not one I fully understand, to be truthful.’

‘That must be strange for you, not understanding something.’

‘Not as much as you might think, James. The debate continues to rage about the existence of an omniscient being. I have my opinions on the matter, of course, but who’s to say, really? The only thing I know with any degree of certainty is that he isn’t me.’

‘That sounded suspiciously like humility there, Simon.’

‘I should hope it did. We can only ever know as much as we know, and we’ll never one of us know any more than that, no matter the length of life we might endure.’

‘Who said that?’ I asked.

‘I believe I just did, James. I’ll ask again because I do want to know your answer, though I’ll understand if you choose not to give one. Are you well?’

‘I’m getting better.’

He nodded. ‘I’m glad to hear that. It will mean very little to you I’m sure, but I have been concerned.’

‘No need to worry, Simon. You got your wish. Paula’s back in
Germany
just like you wanted. Yes, I did try to win her back, I tried to make her stay here with me, I even thought I’d succeeded for a while. Do you want to know the only small consolation I have?’

‘I’d be happy to.’

‘It’s a very small comfort, but you had fuck-all to do with splitting us up. Despite your best efforts, it was never about you and what you thought was best for Paula. She did it all on her own.’

‘You make your point well, James. You are completely wrong in your assumptions, of course.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I was never particularly worried about Paula, James. She was always going to do what she had to. I don’t mean to demean but you were never going to have much influence over that. She’s my daughter, and I know what I taught her.’

‘Are you writing a poem or something?’ It was easier to be glib than acknowledge what he was actually saying.

‘Not purposely, no,’ Simon said. ‘Though there may be something there now you mention it. Anyway, you’ve never struck me as anything other than a well-meaning young man, James. Had I thought you likely to hurt Paula I can assure you I would not have been remotely as genial as I have towards you. That Paula chose a path where she hurt herself wasn’t your fault. And she did hurt herself, James, be assured of that.’

‘Not just herself,’ I said.

‘I know, James. That was the danger I tried to warn you of.’

‘Yeah right, you were looking out for me.’

‘I was simply
looking out
, full-stop. I felt sure Paula’s life in
Germany
wasn’t over. I was, though, an
idiot
to think my foolish philosophical musings would be enough to put you off, and for that I apologise. There are no winners in this situation, James. I hope you know that.’

‘No heroes, no baddies,’ I said.

‘That’s a very succinct assessment.’

‘Is she happy?’ Damn. I didn’t want to say that.

‘She’s busy and she’s making progress with the business,’ Simon said. ‘Beyond that I don’t feel it’s my place to say.’

‘Is she back with …’
What was I doing?

‘Be sure you want to know the answer before you ask the question, James.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ I bowed my head. ‘Never mind.’

‘How are things with your parents?’

‘Better, actually,’ I said. ‘Progress has been made.’

‘I’m very glad to hear it.’

‘Believe it or not we almost act as if we like each other now. They’ve helped me out a fair bit recently.’

‘I never doubted they would,’ Simon said. ‘You’ve always found it strange that I go by two names, haven’t you, James?’

‘It is a bit mental, Simon,’ I said.

‘What would your father’s Christian name be?’

‘Eh, Martin.’

‘But what do you call him, verbally and mentally?’

‘Dad, I suppose.’

‘And your mother, what’s her name?’

‘Irene.’

‘But, to you she’s … what?’

‘Mum.’

Simon nodded. ‘It never hurts to remember that everyone has at least two names in life, James.
Mum
and
Dad
are lovely words to hear from a child, but it’s always wise to remember
Dad
is also Martin and
Mum
is also Irene. Each name is certainly valid, but the connotations and experiences of each are doubtless different. And I dare say
Jim
isn’t the only name you’ve ever been called.’

‘That’s true.
Wanker
seems to have played a fairly prominent part.’

‘I may owe you an apology for that one, but that wasn’t where I was going.’

‘What, you want me to tell you what your daughter used to call me?’


Jaysus
Christ, no,’ Simon said quickly. ‘I meant
son
.’

‘Oh, right.’

‘And maybe
friend
.’

‘I suppose.’

‘And now I would imagine
boss
is in there, too.’

‘Maybe with Jed,’ I admitted.

‘We all wear hats, James. Hats we change depending on who and what we’re dealing with.’

I touched the brim of my Caterpillar cap. ‘I’ve only got this one,’ I said.

‘That’s where you’re wrong, James. And that’s why you’re one of the biggest, and finest, wankers it’s ever been my pleasure to know.’

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Thanks. If it helps, you’re the biggest dick I’ve ever met in my life.’

‘Interesting,’ Simon said. ‘And what would your definition be?’

‘Definition? Oh, right. Eh, how about: self-satisfied, arrogant, patronising, know-it-all?’

‘I think that’s a fair assessment,’ Simon said, smiling. ‘It’s certainly what I strive for. Hello Terence, nice to see you again.’

‘All right, Joe?
Long time
no see,’ Terry said, approaching the bar. He was early.

‘Are you dodging work?’ I asked.

‘We phoned in sick,’ Terry said. ‘After last night there was no way I was getting up before
.’

‘Feeling a bit rough?’ I asked.

‘Put it this way, I made my first coffee with gravy granules,’ Terry shook his head.

‘Hah! How was it?’

‘Not as bad as you’d think, actually. Even with the sugar and milk. I can’t believe you made it in here for eight. You must feel like shit.’

‘I was a bit tender earlier, but I’m fine now,’ I said.

‘I’m guessing there was a celebration?’ Simon asked.

‘A double one,’ I said. ‘It was Terry and
Ronni’s
housewarming.’

‘Congratulations, Terence. She struck me as a lovely girl.’

‘Yeah, cheers,’ Terry said, his face going red (or redder).

‘And the second cause for the festivities?’ Simon asked.

‘I didn’t get a promotion at work,’ Terry said.

‘And that’s a good thing?’

‘Christ, yes,’ Terry said. ‘I only went for the job so the big bosses wouldn’t think I wasn’t interested. I’d have bloody hated it. The last guy that did it was a twat; I’d have been crapping myself that I ended up like him. Besides, I don’t want to be stuck in there till all hours writing reports and shit like that, not when Ronni finishes at five and is waiting for me at home.’

‘Very commendable, Terence. It’s a wise man who knows where his true priorities should lie.’

‘Well, yeah,’ Terry said, embarrassed again. ‘I mean, she’s a brilliant cook. No way I’m missing any of her dinners.’

I laughed. ‘Yeah, that’s the reason.’

Terry looked at me squarely. ‘It’s one of them,’ he said.

‘Well, gentlemen,’ Simon said. ‘I’ll be on my way. It’s been gratifying to learn that life is going well with you.’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘To some degree, at least,’ he added. ‘I will look back on our evenings out with fondness.’

He reached out a hand. I hesitated for a second before shaking it firmly.

‘Look after yourself, Simon. And look after …’ I trailed off, unable to finish.

Simon met my eyes and nodded. ‘You can be certain of it, James.’ He nodded again and let my hand fall. ‘Terence, James, you’ve added colour to this last year, and for that I thank you both.’

He turned and headed for the door.

‘That sounded pretty final. Is he dying?’ Terry said when Simon was gone.

‘They’re moving back to Ireland.’

‘Oh, right. Louise got her way in the end.’

‘Maybe it’s just the right time for them. It’s all about the timing with the big decisions.’

Terry gave me a strange look. ‘Are you being profound?’

‘Not on purpose.’ I laughed. ‘So where’s Ronni?’

‘She’ll be here soon. She’s got some bizarre notion that you’re supposed to tidy the house up after a party. I told her it would keep for a day or two but she wasn’t having it.’

‘And you left her to it? Not very gallant.’

‘You’re right, I’m not.’

‘You helped her, didn’t you?’ He could pretend to be a prick, but I knew him.

‘Yeah,’ he said, not
too
ashamed. ‘She’s only wee. She wanted a bath before she came out, told me to leave if I was going to keep talking to her through the toilet door.’ He noticed something at his feet and crouched down, re-emerging with a plastic bag in his hand. ‘Looks like Joe forgot his shopping.’

‘Well I’ve given up chasing members of that particular family,’ I said. ‘So he’d better come back for it himself. What is it?’

Terry rummaged in the bag and brought out a gift-wrapped parcel. ‘It’s got your name on it.’

I took it and looked at the tag. It read:
Jim
,
a parting gift from a sometime idiot to a true wanker.

I shrugged at Terry and tore off the silver wrapping-paper.

It was a Bruce Lee DVD box-set. All the movies, all re-mastered. I showed Terry.

‘Nice one,’ he said.

BOOK: Scratch
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