Irvine Welsh - If You Liked School, You'll Love Work

— It’s easily done, the speed those things can get up to, the auld boy goes. — It’s so dangerous driving a motorbike. Was he on drugs?

— Jist a wee bit ay tarry n a pint at the Sally up in Perth, ah say as the boy moves ower tae the verge. Eh sees Kravy’s body and goes, — Oh my God… it’s a real person, his head’s missing… oh my God… n eh starts tae boak n lurches back tae the motor. Then eh’s straight on the mobby.

Aw ah kin think ay is ehs ma in the hoaspital, n for some reason her gash that Kravy came ootay aw they years ago, so cruelly exposed by the Young Team oan thon Blue Brazil website.

N ah kin see whit’s happened, ya hoor; the sharp edge ay that road sign thit says ‘REDUCE SPEED NOW’ hus been bent ower, by some Young Team vandal, nae doots, n Kravy’s come oaf the bike at speed wi me n ehs heid’s been in line wi it…

Aw naw.

The sign has an edge ay rid blood oan yin side, specklin oot across it. Like a fuckin guillotine; Central Fife, totally fuckin medieval, ya hoor.

But whaire’s ma boy’s heid?

Ah dives right intae the thick bushes and rows ay nettles, lookin for the heid, it’s still gaunny be in the crash helmet, it’ll no huv gone far, surely. Then ah hears the cloppin ay hoof oan the road n voices n the auld boy’s sayin, — Don’t look, girls, come away…

N ah hears Jenni, — But it’s our friend… then she shouts, — Jason! Are you okay!

— Please, stay back, there’s been a terrible accident! the old felly says.

Ah’m waist-high in jaggy nettles but turns n looks up n ah sees Lara’s hudin back, looking aw shocked but Jenni’s comin forward. — JASON!

Ah goes, — Aye, ya hoor, ah’m awright, bit ah cannae find ma mate’s fuckin heid, eh no.

So ah’m still rummagin aroond in the big forest ay jaggy nettles lookin fir Kravy’s heid in the rid helmet, but ah feel muh legs gaun n ah try tae squat doon for a bit, jist like, tae rest fir a bit, but ah feel ma stomach risin up n me cowpin forward, n when ah wake up ah’m in the fuckin hoaspital, ya hoor!

HIS FRIEND WAS so good-looking; the beautiful boy who left this town on his motorcycle and made a new life in Spain. I had visions, dreams, of him taking me there with him, on the back of it, or anywhere away from here.

But to my great surprise I’m relieved that Jason’s alright; that it’s his friend who’s gone and not him. — I’m going to go and visit Jason up at the hospital, I say absent-mindedly, as I load some crockery into the dishwasher, first pushing Indy out the way to get the door open, as she’s slumped over the worktop, reading a comic.

— That ham shanker. It would have been better off if he’d went the same wey as his daft mate, my dad moans, as he spreads himself some peanut butter on his oatcakes.

I don’t rise to his bait, but then my mother, who is sitting at the kitchen table doing her nails, chips in. — He has a family and friends of his own, Jenni. You have to wise up to people like that. They do tend to take advantage. They just can’t help themselves.

— Like Dad did with you, I respond.

— No! You don’t know what you’re talking about — she trills as I head out towards the door, then screeches in panic, — Come back here when I’m talking to you!

I laugh loudly, continuing my exit. — Under no circumstances. You’re so inherently trivial and inconsequential!

— What does inconsequential mean? Indigo asks, looking up from the comic. She’s now sprawled right across the worktop, like a cat.

— It doesn’t mean anything, my mother shrieks. — It means that Jennifer thinks that she knows best, as usual! And you: get down from there and sit on the chair!

I hear Indy saying something under her breath as I depart, then voices getting raised. I enjoy a buzz of gleeful satisfaction, happy that I’ve wound them all up. Outside, it’s a miserable day, dirty rain falling in sheets and you can feel the bronchitis incubating in your chest. So I drive up to the hospital in Dunfermline, where I went with Jason when he was admitted yesterday. When I get onto the ward there are screens around his bed. I feel panic rising inside of me, envisaging him fighting for his life, but they’re suddenly whipped open as a red-headed nurse appears. As she removes Jason’s bedpan I catch his bulging eyes ogling her.

He registers me and breaks into a big, if slightly guilty smile. — Jenni!

— Hello, Jason, I grin back. He doesn’t look too bad, apart from one side of his face, which has come up in big, blotchy white spots where he collapsed and fell into the stinging nettles.

— Sit yirsel doon, he urges. — Heather wis jist seein tae muh, eh, pressin needs, if ye ken whit ah mean.

— How are you? I ask, looking at the steady beam that ignites Nurse Heather’s face as she goes about her duties.

— Ah’m brand new, but thuv telt ays tae keep still till they git the rest ay they X-rays back. Aye, Heather, fae Tayport, he says as the nurse smiles thinly at me and departs with the bedpan, Jason’s offerings covered by a paper towel.

I sit down in one of two hard red plastic visitors’ chairs. Jason’s locker is stocked with Irn-Bru and grapes. He seems better than when they brought him in yesterday, a lot more settled. He thought he’d fractured his arm, but the X-rays revealed that it was just bad bruising. He had some lacerations on his back that needed stitches, but it was a really remarkable escape. — I can’t imagine what it must be like, I’m asking him, — to survive when your friend dies… tell me again exactly what happened.

— Ah appreciate ye comin, Jenni, he says, — but ah’m no gaun through aw thon again, ah telt ye it aw last night.

— Of course, of course, I nod sternly. — You have to rest, it must have been a terrible shock, I appreciate, looking at his big, confused eyes. — Still no word about his head?

Jason suddenly slaps his own forehead with his good arm, and seems in real distress about this. — Nup, thuv hud Fife’s finest oot aw night n aw mornin combin the area n thuv still found zilch. Ah cannae believe it; it’s in a rid crash helmet, for fuck’s sake!

There’s something that’s so wonderful, magnificent and symbolic … about such a death. It excites me. — I love the idea of his beautiful head, like that of a disembodied angel, floating around looking down on us all. That perfect, wonderful face that won’t age or be corrupted by life; he’ll stay as beautiful as Kurt, Princess Di and Jimmy Dean, forever young!

But this thought doesn’t seem to console poor Jason, who is so upset. — Aye, but ehs ma’s a green grape n shi’s wantin a fuckin open-casket joab! So ah’ve got tae find that heid. If the fuckin bizzies cannae dae it, n ah hae ma doots aboot Fife Constabulary’s commitment tae this case, then ah’ll need tae get oot thair masel!

— You can’t, Jason, you have to rest, I urge.

— Aye, ye talk aboot ehs beautiful heid, but it’ll no be that beautiful once the craws n rats n worms git a haud ay it, he says in horror. And it is such a terrible thought. — Yuv goat tae help ays, Jenni, ye huv tae dae me a big favour, he begs.

I’m looking into those crazed eyes, which remind me of the fighting dogs back in the barn, and I feel that I can’t really refuse. — What?

— Go tae ma hoose n tell muh auld boy that ah need some clathes. Then bring thum back here fir ays.

I know where his house is, from when I dropped him off when he was wearing the sort of clothes I don’t think he’d appreciate me getting him now. He tells me the exact address again. — Okay, but on one condition, I tell him, — I come with you and help you find the head.