Irvine Welsh - A Decent Ride

— It’s no like anybody’s gaunny ken, Jonty. If ye dae something n it’s your secret, naebody else kens aboot, it disnae really count as bad. How kin it, whin it’s no hurtin anybody else?

— Disnae count. .

— It disnae count if naebody kens. Whae’s gaunny ken? Whae’s gaunny be hurt? Ma cannae git doon the stairs. Naebody’s gaunny ken. That’s the beauty ay it, Jonty! Naebody’s gaunny ken!

— Naebody. . naebody, sur. .

— Ah need a felly. Brian stoaped callin roond whin ah goat big. Gittin big doesnae stoap ye wantin it but, Jonty. .

— Disnae stoap ye. .

So wi goes tae the couch n Karen sais, — We’ll need tae be awfay quiet, but.

— Aye, ah goes. Ma dirty wee boaby-pipe’s aw hard n she takes ma zip doon n grabs a hud ay it. Ah dinnae like that, cause it’s no aw the soft wey thit Jinty does it.

Then she goes, her face aw pinched, — Geez it well, stuff it in ma fuckin fanny!

N ah’m no happy now, naw sur, bit it’s like the dirty boaby-pipe’s got its ain life n she’s gittin her skirt up n her pants doon, her big thighs wobblin like fightin bairns. Ah dinnae want her tae start makin a fuss, no wi muh ma upstairs, so ah’m thinking ah’ll git this ower wi, aye, n ah’m gittin ma troosers doon n tryin tae find the lassie sex hole in aw her fat. It isnae easy, no like wi Jinty, ma wee Jinty, but ah’m archin back n pushin it in n she goes, — Dinnae kiss ays cause that’s right mucky, but squeeze ays, Jonty, squeeze ays hard. . fuck me, Jonty!

— Aye. . n ah’m lookin at the pile ay washin oan the chair beside the couch, n ah’m pumpin n squeezin. .

— That’s it, Jonty. . yuv goat strong airms n a big cock fir a laddie that wee n thin. . harder. .

Ah’m worried aboot yon creakin noises yon couch is makin. Then ah hears Ma gaun, — Whae’s doon thaire!

— JIST JON-TAY. . Karen shouts up.

— Bring um up! Bring um tae see ays!

— AYE. . ONE MINNIT!

— WHIT YOUSE TWO DAEIN DOON THAIRE!?

Karen starts gaun that red wey thit a loat ay lassies go whin thir ready tae git tae the finishin line, as Jinty ey called it. ‘Keep gaun, Jonty, till ah croass that effin finishin line,’ she used tae say. Jinty could sometimes speak bad. Ah dinnae hud wi that talk, n it’s worse oan lassies, aye it is, n it causes trouble. But ah’d go, ‘Aye, Jinty, aye ah will, aye, aye, aye. .’ But it’s Karen now n she makes a long, shrill n squeaky sound. She does that. Aw aye. Aw aye.

N then it’s aw peaceful. Even Ma’s stoaped shoutin. Karen whispers in ma ear, — Dad used tae dae this tae ays. Real faither Henry, no yon Billy MacKay, he nivir touched ays. But whin eh came back that time; that Henry, mind? Ah wis aboot twelve. Eh did it in ma bedroom, Jonty, whin he goat up in the night. He said that eh couldnae sleep wi hur any mair. Said ah wis a woman now that ah wis at the big school. Made ays feel like yin, even if ah wisnae really.

— Aw aye. . ah goes, but this isnae right but, nane ay it, nane ay it’s right. Ah feel masel gaun awfay tense, awfay tense, no like the peaceful wey yir meant tae go whin when yuv shot the stiff-boaby muck oot.

N Karen’s gaun oan. . — She disgusted him, eh telt ays ehsel, n she’s goat the bad face oan, the same face as they aw pit oan doon The Pub Wi Nae Name when they take the pish. — That’s how eh went away the first time, n then again eftir eh came back! She looks upstairs wi what ah call a ‘bad-hert look’ at muh ma’s, like it’s her fault. But it’s no. Naw sur. Cause it’s his fault. That Henry Lawson. Aye sur. Then Karen’s voice goes aw soft again soas thit even though ah’m still wi her oan the couch, ah’m strainin ma ears tae hear. — So he’d come through tae me. When we wir daein it, eh used tae pit yin ay his socks in ma mooth. He sais it wis in case ah made a noise, but ah could hardly breathe n ah think that made um mair horny. . Karen’s eyes shut tight then open again.

Ah dinnae like this, ah feel aw dirty now.

— Ye could sometimes hear her through the thin waws, greetin, callin his name. Ah think she kent what we wir up tae. .

— Ah nivir kent. .

— Ah wis thin then, no a pick oan ays. Now she’s goat her ain back, but, Karen looks up at the ceilin n flicks the V-sign at muh ma. — It’s like ah’m her prisoner. Ah cannae dae nowt! Ah barely go oot! Doon tae the shoaps once a day fir an ooir!

— Aw. . ah goes, n ah feel Karen movin her big boady, crushin ays against the back ay the couch.

She sortay perches her heid up oan her elbay n turns tae me. — See, if Wee Jinty doesnae come back? Jist sayin, likes, ay, you could move back here, Jonty? Help ays look eftir yir ma? Yir auld room, Jonty!

— Mibbe, ah goes, — but Jinty’ll be back.

— Mibbe, she goes, n wi gits oaf the couch n goes up tae see muh ma. Karen brings the pizza fir Ma’s snack. It’s been cut intae loads ay wee pieces. Thaire’s a sweaty smell in the room, n a slight whiff ay seek, like in The Pub Wi Nae Name some mornings. It’s daytime ootside but the curtains ur still shut. Ye kin see thit thaire’s a big pile in the bed. That’s what it’s like, sur, a big pile. The only wey ye kin tell it’s muh ma is by hur two blue eyes n the fairish-grey hair. It’s like a big slug has sortay swallayed her up tae her eyes. She’s goat even fatter n aw, aye sur, she hus. — Hiya, Ma! Ah kisses the side ay her face.

Ma cannae really turn her heid, but her eyes sortay swivel roond tae ays. — What youse two been up tae?

— Nowt, Karen goes, — jist giein Jonty some pizza. Ah’ve goat some fir you, aw cut up.

— Made an awfy noise!

— Aye, ye ken Jonty! Eywis muckin aboot! Eh wis ticklin ays. She looks at ays n laughs.

— Ah thoat yis wid be past aw that by now, Ma goes, still no movin her big heid fae the pillay. — Well, she gasps, aw breathless, — we’ve still goat they plastic bags fae the store piled up under the sink, she sais. — You ken thum, Karen.

— Aye.

— They bags under the sink, git Jonty tae take thum, Karen! Jist some ay thum, no thum aw, mind!

— Eh’ll no want thum bit, Ma, Karen goes.

— Whit for no? She looks at Karen, then they eyes in her doughy heid swivel taewards me. — Take thum, Jonty son! They ey come in useful!

— Awright, Ma, ah goes, — ah ken that. Ah’ll take thum. Aye ah will. Aye sur, aye sur.

Karen pits the tray wi the plate oan it close tae Ma’s heid. Ma lifts a big meaty airm oot fae under the covers n grabs it. Karen’s helpin her up n forward, n pittin mair pillays under her. Ma starts scoopin the bits ay pizza n the oven chips up, n packin thum intae hur mooth. — Nice n crispy, she goes, n she isnae wrong, Karen ey makes thum crispy.

— The pizza, aye, ah ken ye like the thin-crusted yins, Karen goes. — Crispier.

— Aye. . rerr n crispy. . Ma sais.

Ma might eat awfay slow fir a fat person, but slow n steady does the trick cause she’s awfay, awfay fat. Ye huv tae gie her credit for that, aye sur, ye do. — So tell ays what you’ve been up tae, ma wee Jonty boy, she asks. — How’s Hank? Still wi that stuck-up yin? Nivir comes tae see ehs auld mother! Penicuik no good enough fir um?

N ah’m talkin away tae hur, bit Karen’s makin faces at the side ay Ma’s heid n it’s makin ays laugh.

— What’s sae funny? Ma goes. — Is she muckin aboot? Ur you muckin aboot, Karen?

— Ah am nowt, Karen goes.

But she is n ah huv tae think aboot stickin my hard boaby in her soas ah feel aw too ashamed tae laugh. N ah want tae go now, cause ah dinnae feel right. Some people, like the fellys in The Pub Wi Nae Name, they’ll say thit a ride’s a ride, aye they will. But a ride isnae a ride, cause it’s different wi Karen thin wi wee Jinty. Jinty’s aw soft n smells good. Awfay soft skin. Best bit wis jist hudin Jinty in ma airms eftir we’d done it, tellin hur ah’d never lit nowt bad happen tae her. ‘Dae ye mean that, Jonty?’ she wid say.