The Burn (3 page)

She was coming towards him and he hesitated, she had yet to see him. But then he stepped out the close and he smiled the welcome while taking her by the arm. Beyond the park
gate they continued round the corner and along in the direction of the main road. He said nothing to her. He noticed when she became aware of the fact. He glanced at her, seeing a certain look on
her face; she was trying to hold it to herself, but she didnt succeed and she frowned at him and stopped walking: Is there something up? she asked, but she smiled to make it sound less
dramatic.

Naw, no that I know of.

She studied him.

I’m just no feeling very talkative.

Mmm. She smiled, I dont really believe you.

Is that right? Well it’s quite straightforward. He laid both his hands on her shoulders. He was about nine inches taller than her. He stared at her without smiling, then he relaxed and
grinned. But she didnt. And she wasnt going to again, not until she knew there was something to warrant it.

Ach, he said, christ, I dont have any cash.

Oh.

Aye oh.

So what are we going to do?

I dont know.

I’ve hardly got anything either. Did something happen?

Happen? What d’you mean?

She looked at him.

Sorry. Naw, nothing happened. I’m just skint. People are skint these days you know.

Why are you being sarcastic?

Oh fuck sorry, sorry.

And now you’re swearing. Are you worried about your son?

Naw.

Did the doctor come?

He stuck his hands into his trouser pockets, sauntered a few steps forward then turned to her: Doctors dont come these days, that’s how they sell invalid chairs with fucking caster wheels
on them! Sorry . . . Christ! He turned away from her again, stared into the shop that sold antiques. It was a shop she liked to look into. He saw her reflection in the window. For some reason he
felt very angry. He still had his hands in his trouser pockets; now he brought out his left one and rubbed his brow and left eye. When she reappeared beside him he put his arm round her. Ach,
I’m just no in a cheery mood. I’m sorry, too much on my plate . . .

It’s okay.

He nodded then sighed. Where can we go?

I dont know.

They stood staring at each other for several moments. Then she said: The library?

Nah.

A walk in the park?

Uch naw.

We could go into town.

Into town?

See the shops . . . Dont look so excited.

He glanced at the antiques in the window: What about this shop here, can we no just look in it?

. . .

Ach, sorry. But I mean it’d just be a case of walking about.

Well that’s better than nothing.

He sighed again.

What is it?

Ach nothing. Nothing.

Is something wrong?

No.

She studied him.

He shrugged and stepped away from her. I mean if you really want to go into town . . . I mean, if you do it’s fine, just say.

It was only a suggestion.

Aye, fair enough, I know. He sniffed, gazing along the road, and wondered if she did have any cash. And if she did and it was enough to take them both for a coffee then how come she was not
offering. Economics entered everything. It had caused the collapse of his marriage. At least it had as far as he was concerned. Who knew about the wife, she went her own way, had her own thoughts,
you never knew what she was thinking. You never knew what anybody was thinking, that was the problem, the same applied everywhere. She was looking at him. He said, Do you want to go up the
town?

She didnt answer.

Eh?

No.

He grinned suddenly and touched her arm. Give us a smile!

She didnt smile.

I’m sorry, I’m just . . . Ahh! He shook his head. He rubbed his hands together and blew out sharply, Bloody cold! Time we were going somewhere.

Did he let you down, the guy that owes you the money?

Yeh.

I might’ve known.

He was supposed to meet me but he never turned up.

Mmhh.

I thought he would.

Did you?

Now it’s you that’s being sarcastic.

Oh I’m sorry . . . She smiled, reached up and kissed him on the mouth, thrust her tongue inside.

They looked at each other as they parted.

Well? she said.

What about your sister?

I cant ask her.

Definitely?

No.

He nodded.

I cant.

Ah well. He turned abruptly: Christ . . . ! I’m gasping for a fag! He grinned: I says I’m gasping for one no I’m going to smoke one. There’s a big difference you
know!

I dare say it’d improve your temper.

He smiled at her. He liked her, he really did, he really did bloody like her. He wanted to put his arms round her and hold her, he wanted to give her a cuddle, a real cuddle, he wanted to hold
her and give her a really big cuddle.

When she raised her right hand and touched his chin with her fingertips his eyes closed. She cupped both hands round his face. He opened his eyes and said, Let’s walk.

Yeh.

They walked hand in hand, firmly. It was a thing he liked about her, how she held his hand, it was always so tight and he felt like it meant she was wanting to make sure of him, that he was
there and that they were together. It was some time before either spoke. She said, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.

It’s okay.

You have though.

Ah well so have you, so have you.

Not so much as you.

He shook his head. I disagree. And he felt her grip on his hand tighten, and it sparked the muscle in his cock. He only had to look at her, that was the problem. I’ll end up getting an
erection, he said.

She smiled.

I cant help it.

She withdrew her hand and dug him in the ribs.

It’s no my fault! He grinned.

Ssh. And come on! She took his hand.

Right, right! Will we go through the park?

If you want, it’s up to you, I’m no the boss.

Ah well neither am I.

No but just decide.

Can you no. Tch!

I want a rest. I spend my life making decisions. That’s how I like being with you!

You trying to say I’m bossy! She grinned.

They crossed the road into the park, past the line of red sandstone villas – Victorian, four bedrooms maybe plus lounge, dining room, kitchen and bathroom; with probably an extension built
out the back garden – maybe even with the attic kitted out into a wee annexe bedroom and play area for the kids. And kids liked that kind of space, the adventure of it, even going to bed in
itself, that became exciting. One of his wife’s aunties lived in a big house. Not a great big house but big enough, big enough to get a bit of privacy. Wee rooms to go and sit in, empty
rooms, ones that had fireplaces and standard lamps, you could sit there and read a book, on your own, really good; the sort of place you dreamed about owning, plenty room, not tripping over one
another; you could keep cats if you wanted, cats and dogs, all the pets you felt like – plus the privacy, that much space you could go away and be by yourself, you could be alone, you could
just sit and think, work things out.

She broke the silence. She spoke without turning her head to him: Was your wife down at the weekend?

She was, aye.

Did you see her?

Well I had to to give over the wee yins.

Yeh . . .

Christ! It really is freezing! His shoulders moved as though in a shiver. He saw her watching him now. What about your boyfriend? he said.

What about him?

That’s what I want to know, what about him?

Nothing.

Nothing?

Nothing.

Great. Life is so wonderful.

Dont complain.

I’m no.

It could be worse.

Could it?

It could be worse, of course it could.

Aye, I suppose so . . . He shivered again. You no cold?

No, because I’m wearing a coat. Which is what you should be doing, but you arent.

Glasgow macho . . . aye. He put his arm round her then his teeth started chattering; and he laughed, exaggerating the noise of it till eventually she also laughed. He pointed out the red
sandstone villas. I’ll get one of them and fill it with servants. To hell with the social conscience, I’m sick of it.

So am I!

I’m going to become a smug capitalist.

She laughed. She linked arms with him as they continued on over the brow of the hill.

I was reading John Maclean this morning, he said.

I havent read him.

What a life he had! How they treated him as well! Bloody disgraceful. Sick. The authorities, sick.

Mm.

A woman was walking along towards them, leading two small terrier dogs on leashes, they both had tartan jackets tucked round their bodies. Caricatures, he said,
Sunday Post
specials. Yeh.
Who’s pulling who eh? He smiled in answer.

The path stretched beyond a clump of trees for about quarter of a mile. There was nobody about. Two other directions were possible. The woman with the dogs had taken one of them.

Will we go the long way round, he asked.

What?

Will we go the long way round?

I dont care.

D’you just want to go the short way?

I’m no bothering. Then she added: I thought I smelt smoke on your breath?

Ha, I wish to God you had! That’d mean I was a cheery smoker, a cheery dier of cancer!

Have you no been smoking then?

Naw.

Honestly?

Well I’ve had a couple. Ah.

A couple.

D’you mean two?

Aye.

Honestly?

You and your bloody honestly!

D’you mean two?

I said yes didnt I!

That’s all?

That’s all.

Good . . .

It’s bloody hard but know what I mean? He shook his head. When he saw she was still looking at him he asked her the time. She unlinked her arm to pull back her coat sleeve. Quarter to
three.

Christ!

Time passes.

No half!

When you’re enjoying yourself.

He put his arm round her again and he kissed her on the side of the mouth. She turned into him. But quarter to three, he said, moving from her slightly, that’s hellish I mean you’ll
have to go back soon.

No for a bit yet.

Naw but soon.

She shrugged. Not for a bit.

He nodded. She smiled suddenly. I once smoked you know and it was in a park.

What! You! My God! Smoking? I cant bloody believe it!

It was no laughing matter either!

Whereabouts? No in here?

Whiteinch.

Whiteinch! What age were you?

I was thirteen; we were over watching the boys play football.

My God!

D’you know where the pitches are there?

Naw, no really.

Behind the pond. You walk towards your left, if you’re coming from the dressing rooms it’s your right.

From the dressing rooms?

Where the boys played football, where they got changed. They had to change in there before going to the football pitches to play.

Aw aye, now we’re hearing the awful truth I mean did you watch to see if you could see anything when they were changing! Is that what yous were up to!

Tch.

He laughed.

We werent that bad!

A likely story! So tell us about the smoking then, did it make you sick?

Yeh, it did, it did!

Ha ha!

She punched him in the ribs and he let her go, stepping away from her, still laughing: I might’ve known. Females, you cant handle it!

That’s right, we’re no macho enough . . . It was bloody awful but, I thought I was going to pass out. We had two cigarettes and we smoked them one after the other, sharing them
between us, taking draws each.

You and the boys?

Me and my two pals. Lassies . . .

I see, mmhh, on you go, but I warn you, I’m taking all this down to use in evidence at a later date.

And I mind as well how they were all soggy. Bits of the tobacco was in your mouth. Uch! It was awful. Disgusting.

Bits of tobacco? That means it was plain fags.

What?

Fags without tips?

I cant remember.

Must’ve been, if they were all soggy like the way you’re saying. Hell, you must be older than you look.

Shut up.

Naw but honest, no kidding.

I think somebody had stole them off their dad.

God, thieving as well! What next! Dont tell me – with all these boys about!

You’ve got a dirty mind.

He smiled, but only for a moment. He looked at the grass.

A joke, she said, want to hear it?

Aye.

She let go his hand and walked on a pace, stopped and turned, trying to keep her face straight: You’re laughing already! he said.

Because it’s funny.

He chuckled.

If it wasnt I wouldnt tell you it.

Ah but it puts me under pressure.

Charlie’s daughter told me it.

Charlie’s daughter?

I knew it already. You probably know it yourself.

Naw I dont.

You will when you hear it.

Tell me then.

After a moment she said: What’s yellow and very dangerous?

I dont know.

Shark-infested custard!

Christ!

She smiled.

Where do they get them!

Och it’s an old one, I think I heard it at school myself.

Aye. He turned from her and stared along the path. There was a group of people in the distance – teenagers; they had a ball. He sighed.

What’s up? she had touched him on the elbow.

Och . . . He smiled for a moment, then gazed into her face; she was just so bloody beautiful. She was. And he was just fucking . . . hopeless, he was just fucking hopeless. He couldnt bloody
cope, that was the problem, he couldnt bloody cope, with life. The expression on her face had been serious; she relaxed now and smiled for a moment, she gripped his hand tightly, put her other arm
round his waist and spoke his name, but he shook his head in answer.

Dont worry. She whispered, Things arent as bad as that.