James Kelman - The Burn

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.

Och I know I know.

Well then.

Yeh. Yeh.

She was staring right into his eyes.

Different incisions seemed to have been cut into the wall and from inside one of them an insect was peering at him. The insect reminded him of a flea, the curved part of its body, even down to its blood tan colour. The middle finger of his right hand began to drum on the edge of the table, he was frowning. What if for every incision one such insect was lodged? Mind you, they were so minute, these insects, that he was not afraid. He could ignore them easily. Or else he could get a spray gun and blast them all to smithereens. But what was the use of fantasising. He was not going to do anything. He couldnt do anything. He was stuck fast on this wooden chair, surrounded by everything hostile you could possibly conceive of in the universe. And as well as that it was like he could hear a scraping noise coming from somewhere too so no wonder he couldnt concentrate. Or was it just his ears? The finger drumming stopped but he continued frowning at the insect. Its toty brain would be working overtime. Who is this giant staring at me? Is he going to kill me? Somebody as big as him could squash me in a tick! Will he leave me alone? Forget all about me? Because if he does then I can continue crawling up the wall. Or down the wall; maybe it was going down the wall. Or else burrowing deeper into the hole, the incision. Maybe it and its relations, its ancestors — bearing in mind that each day is probably a lifetime and thus you have a state of affairs where four weeks ago is prehistoricity: