James Kelman: The Burn

He glanced at the woman along the row and smiled at her, but then he frowned, he glared. You shouldnt be sympathising with a mass-murderer. You shouldnt. That was that fucking director’s fault. That happened in his pictures, you started feeling sympathy for fucking murderers. How come it wasnt for the victims. They were the ones that needed it. No the actual perpetrators. That was probably how she had been greeting, the woman, because of the fucking victims, she was a victim, and that’s who it was happening to, the fucking victims. He wanted to go home, right now, he wanted out of it, right fucking out of it right fucking now it was a free country and he wanted to get away home for his fucking tea. He glanced along at her, to see what she was doing. She was still holding the carton of coffee, engrossed in the picture. The old dear as well. It was just him. He was the only one that couldnt concentrate. That was that nowadays, how he never seemed able to concentrate, it never fucking seemed to work any more, you couldnt blank it out. He kicked his coffee over. It was a mistake. But he was glad he had done it. He wished they had all fucking seen; it would sort them out, wondering how come he had done it, if it was meant; he got up off the chair and edged his way along to the end of the row, watching he didnt bump into her as he went; she never so much as glanced at him, then the old dear moving her bags in to let him pass, giving him a look as he went, fuck her, even if he stood on one of them with eggs in it, bastard, he just felt so fucking bad, so fucking bad.

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.