Martin Amis - Yellow Dog

‘[ Click .] Go on then. He’s no different. Him? … Goo on. [ Click .] Regarding the matter of uh, giving your mates’ wives one. Now in them days that’s considered not on. Something you don’t do. See, you can only do it if you … if you fear no man. Because all right, it’s naughty — but what’s the blokes going to do? Come round and have it with me about it? No. They gives their wife a biff and otherwise, and that’s it. End of story. Which they thoroughly deserve. That’s a female weakness, that is. Weakness for power. Weakness for strength … I never was married but I got engaged the twice. By an unfortunate coincidence, both of them’ve gone and took they own lives, for reasons best known to theirselves.

‘During our time in the uh, “Emerald Isle”, Keith the Snake and me’ve come to London the once. I had a bone to pick with a bloke who’d taken a liberty with me, years back, in Strangeways. Fella name of Mick. I should’ve just done him, shouldn’t I. [ Click ] Should’ve just taken a chopper to the cunt … [ Click .] But no. Fancy a fair fight instead. I’ve gone over to his yard [ click ] with me lapels lined with razorblades [ click ] and called him out. Told him a home truth or two and all. What a ruck that was. I don’t know who’ve come off worst. Still, I’ve remained active even from me hospital bed. And that was the only crime I committed on British soil that I never paid me debt to society for. I mean the matter of the gold bullion and the VAT. Me and Keith the Snake was convinced we’ve found a genuine loophole, as there’s no VAT on the coins we melted down and sold back to the Bullion House. Customs and Excise begged to differ. That would be about seventeen million in today’s money. And to that I’ll come back to.

‘So Keith the Snake and me’ve transferred our endeavour to Dublin, and made a totally fresh start. I asserted meself and encountered no difficulty whatsoever. Them Irish in the south, I don’t know what they think they’re thinking of half the time. Too much of the Danny Boy, I don’t know. They couldn’t believe Keith the Snake and me, and the measures we was prepared to take. All in all we had seven very happy years in Eire. Then we come to this business with the IRA, and the extremely unfortunate parting of the ways with Keith the Snake.

‘Now me I never wanted no publicity. People prominent in the underworld, they’ve got this terrible weakness for it. I seen publicity do for face after face. You know, you got power, you want it noticed. We all want to be top dog, mister big, king bastard. But it can’t work like that down here, see, where everything moves the other way … What happened was, I was driving along in me Merc and lost me concentration. Next thing I know, I’ve gone and injured a young woman, who unfortunately soon died. Pregnant and all. Well there was no end of a song and dance about that — though it’s perfectly legal to give someone a spill if you’re sober, and me lawyer said there’s definitely something a bit iffy in me breathalyser report. And then it’s come out who I am and what I’m worth. And the IRA think: eye-eye.

‘I’m still on bail and I heard there’s a kidnapping planned. Which is a joke. As a Cat-A prisoner I’ve marged me bread with all their top boys, and there’s no way in this world they’d’ve fancied me for a nab. But by then Scotland Yard’s sticking its nose in, and I’ve reckoned it’s time to move on. I’ve said to Keith the Snake, “Keith mate? It’s time to move on.” And he’s gone, “I never ploughed into no pregnant sort. You move on.” Fair enough. “Fine by me, mate. You go your way, I’ll go mine.” [ Click .] And that — and that’s his idea of loyalty … [ Click .] So I’ve started making me arrangements to emigrate across the water.

‘Come the very sad conclusion of me friendship with Keith the Snake. It started off foolish really: just one of them things, I suppose. I’ve had a drink and I’ve gone and done him. I go in to visit and I’ve said, “Keith mate. I sincerely apologise. I bitterly regret what’s occurred, and can you find it in your heart to overlook it.” So we shake and that. I know it’s going to take time for the rift to heal. Then of course he’s barely out of hospital and I’ve gone and done him again. Carved up all his suits and all. Lovely materials. Only the best … That was me weakness in them days. I’d get uh, argumentative in me drink. And he kept getting on me nerves. Same stupid talk. I says, “Why you always off with them brasses? Why don’t you have a proper bird?” “What, so’s you can stuff her? Why d’you stuff your mates’ birds?” “Well I always do that.” “Yeah but why?” “I always stuff me mates’ birds.” “Yeah but why?” “Because I always do.” [ Click .] “Hey Jo. You want to stuff my bird so you can pretend you’re me?” “Oi!” “Hey Jo. You want to stuff my bird so you can pretend you’re her ?” … Well it was all off then. [ Click .] One of them uh, circular arguments. Blah blah blah.

‘So now I’ve done him the twice. And here’s what we done. I’ve let him strap me to the paddock wall (this is in me farm near Balbriggan). First thing he’s done, he’s told me it was never Tony Eist who skanked me off in Spain. It was Keith the Snake all along! So I’ve gone, “That’s water under the bridge, that is. Now do your worst, mate. But no tools. Done?” And Keith the Snake’s gone, “Done.” And what’s he gone and done? He’s gone and done me with the fucking scythe . There he is in his underpants, screaming his head off. And left me wallowing in me own blood. I’ve had more than two hundred stitches in me chest alone. One stripe come down from me ear, across me cheek, under me nose, over me mouth, along me jaw and into me neck. [ Click .] He’s had a go at me privates and all. That’s how low he’s stooped. Ah, Keith mate … What happened, boy? [ Click .] Well, after a liberty like that, why he never finished the job I’ll never know. Was he barmy or what?

‘After a short uh, sojourn in Paraguay, Argentina and Brazil, I’ve pitched up in Southern California. And if me name rings a bell from the newspapers it’s because you’re thinking of an old geezer sitting round a swimming-pool in Rio with a glass of champagne and a halfcaste brass on his lap. That’s me brother Fred, and no icecream’s ever had it easier, with the pension I give him. Me record here in Southern California is absolutely stainless, and I’ve uh, amassed another fortune in the home-video industry. Totally legitimately. [ Click .] And if you want to see a beauty-queen with her head up a giraffe’s arse, or otherwise, I’d be delighted to oblige. [ Click .] I’ve done uh, extensive fundraising work for charity, and I hold the post of Treasurer at the local Citizens’ Community Association.

‘See, I’m not such a bad bloke really, when all is said and done. Me, I’m the nicest fella in the world — in the car like, you know, after you, darling. In the shops: “Morning all” and “God bless”. I’ve lived me life by me own rules — and, yes, and woe betide anyone that breaks them. I am who I am. Jo is Jo. It’s just the road I went down. It’s just the game I played. It’s just the game I played.

‘Now to business.’

A musclebound horsefly materialised on the spotted knuckle of his right hand. He reached slowly for the holster with his left.

‘You didn’t like that, did you mate …’

He leant forward to drink in the full fragrance of the propellant. Like a cut-price air-freshener — the negative essence of all the smells it was meant to conceal. His eyes moistened: takes you back.