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

Ah laughs loudly, noddin ower tae Jenni and the bird, who ur startled. Jakey resolutely shakes ehs heid at the Neebour. — Ah’d peyed fir tweenty-fower ooirs n tweenty-fower ooirs ay wis gaunny git. Ah couldnae help it if yon snooty Elders came in early wi thir fuckin wives tae arrange flooirs n caught ays wi the bird in midcowp across the altar. Tell ye whit, but, Neebour, Jason, eh sais tae ays, ehs wee face gaun aw lecherous leprecaun. — It wis worth it. The best ride ah hud, n the lassie, she even said the same hursel. Nice young lassie; Ballingry, if ma memory serves ays right.

Ah jist aboot felt thon boatil ay champagne ah wis haudin slip through ma fingers. Ah made ma apologies n goat Jen, n wi piled back intae the motor.

Whin we git back thir’s nae sign ay muh faither, but thir’s a note oan the kitchen table, written oan a Ladbrokes’ bettin slip.

Miners’ Welfare at eight the night, a surprise party. Got some news .

— What the fuck’s gaun oan here?

— I don’t know, but we have to go to the party, Jenni says. — We’ll take the champagne. Then we get out of here, just driving through the night… on the motorbike.

Ah dinnae really like the sound ay that. Temptin fate big time, especially eftir Kravy. Dinnae want tae be seen as an unromantic shitein cunt, but. — Eh… what aboot Ambrose?

— I know somebody who’ll look after him. We can send for him later. I want to get out of this place on Kravy’s bike. Her wee lamps light up like a Kelty hoor thit’s goat a Christmas bonus. — It would be so symbolic, don’t you think? It’s what he’d want, I’m sure of that!

How the fuck does she ken what eh’d want? She nivir even spoke tae the boy. Still, ah’m no arguing; she’s the one wi the tits n fanny, n it’ll be a long time afore ah’m satiated enough tae turn ma nose up at thon currency! Ah’d defo rather go by the fuckin motor masel, but it isnae the time tae discuss the issue. Ah’d been hopin, as should uv happened, thit the bike wid uv been written oaf, but the fucker hud an even mair miraculous escape thin me. Wi pit the champers in the fridge n leaves Ambrose doonstairs n head up tae ma scratcher fir a bit ay recreation. It takes a bit ay pleadin, but eventually Jenni lits ays go oan toap, eftir the fourth go.

Ah’ve worked oot thit if ah achieve five orgasms a day till ah’m thirty ah’ll huv hud a roughly average sex life. Cannae make number five though, that wid require chemical assistance, cause ah fair shoot ma load ay gravity-assisted spunk intae her. That’s whit gaun oan top does fir ye!

Sleep hits ays like a sledgehammer. Ma last thought as ah drift under: Ballingry? Whaire the fuck’s that!

Whin ah come to, thir’s still nae sign ay ma faither n it’s dark outside. My eyes are blurred wi too much sex-sleep, that comatose state when yir plunged right doon intae deep sleep n come up quickly, like a diver thit gits the bends. Ah kin make oot the digital crystal display oan the cloak:

8:57

— Wake up, Jen, ah shout in panic, — we’ve goat tae be up the Welfare!

She rolls ower. — For fuck’s sake, Jason, give me five minutes to revive!

But ah gits right up and whips oan the keks, strides n then the rest ay the clathes. Fair play tae her, she follays suit. Ah’m watchin her gittin dressed n it turns ays oan that much ah feel the wee fellay risin again, but ah decide tae hit the bog n gie they choppers a brush tae git rid ay the scum ay sleep.

Ah cannae believe ma eyes whin wi git up the Welfare, Ambrose oan the leash. The place is mobbed n thir’s a big banner up, a sheet wi words in black paint which spell:

Aw ah kin think is thit one’s the auld man’s name n the other’s the name ay Kravy’s ma! Muh freaky speculations git confirmed whin she waltzes ower drunk, n flashes a ring oan her engagement finger. The auld cunt’s been oan that bus tae Dunfy visitin HM Samuel, the hoor!

— Spur ay the moment, homes, the auld boy says a wee bit coyly, his airm roond Kravy’s ma. — Thir hud ey been a spark, but we wir eywis baith involved. Then ah stoaped leavin the crib… the auld boy involuntarily touches his foundation-poodired puss.

— Thoat this stallion had broken ootay the stable n taken the high road, Kravy’s ma, Frances ah’ll need tae start callin the hoor, goes. — It wis only whin Ally came back, n she smiles through hur tears, — thit eh telt me thit yir faither wis still in toon!

Ehs mates hud a whip-roond, aw the auld miners, n pit oan a rare spread; aw different sannies, sausage rolls n a karaoke wi tons ay booze. Ah cracks open a can ay lager, n Jenni does the same. — This is great, she sais, — my family would never do anything like this!

Ah dinnae think she kens her auld boy aw that well. Big Tam wis never shy aboot pittin ehs hand in ehs poakit, n eh’s no bad company oan a night oot. That wis a guid yin at Starkers, ah’ll gie the hoor that.

A nice buffet, but, ya hoor. As a sweet-tooth, ah’m fair taken by the big Black Forest gateau, so ah cuts masel a piece ay thon action. Ah pick up a fork n lift a wee stodgy chunk ay nirvana intae ma gob. Jenni smiles at ays. — I need to pee, she says, risin and headin fir the bogs as ah clock that erse feelin like ah’m in Eden.

Jist then a viper enters paradise. That big cunt Monty comes in n looks aroond. The punters that notice him are a bit wary, but maist ur jist absorbed in ma auld man’s mate Alec’s rendition ay ‘The Green Green Grass of Home’. Big Monty comes up tae me, n bends doon, stickin ehs face in ma ear. — Hear you’ve been makin insinuations aboot dugs, eh sais, ehs breath stinkin ay something. — Lit’s step outside, the hoor threatens softly, — or I bring some ay the boys in. It wid be a shame tae see this happy occasion git ruined, eh smiles, lookin doon at perr Ambrose in disgust, whae’s under the table, chowin oan some quiche.

Ah cannae really say that much, as ah’ve goat a bit ay gateau in ma mooth. Ah forces it doon n turns tae the Duke whae husnae heard what he said but whae looks awfay unhappy. — Jist sortin something oot, ah explain wi a wink. — it’s aw cool, ah’ll be back in a minute.

N ah gits up n the big cunt n me baith start walkin tae the door, mair like wi were best mates thin gunfighters.

The funny thing is thit ah realise that ah dinnae feel scared at aw. Ah’m jist ready tae take a slap, n that’s aw it wid be here, wi aw they cunts around; mibbe a couple ay digs. Ah’ll go doon, listen tae the hollow threats n thir honour will be restored n the perty willnae be disrupted.

Whin ah gits outside ah see that Pars cunt Klepto’s thaire n aw. The hert’s flutterin a wee bit now. A big cunt like Monty’ll jist gie a wee cunt like me a couple ay wee digs. Eftir aw, honour will only be compromised by a sustained liberty-takin dwarf massacre. A vicious wee bastard like Klepto though, that hoor will go slutty oan ye. Ah actually feel masel shrinkin fae him, movin taewards Big Monty like eh wis ma protector, hopin eh unloads first tae pit ays oot ma misery. Eh susses muh game, steppin back, littin that Klepto cunt take ower. — Ye obviously didnae git the message, jockey, you n that Chinky mate ay yours, the hoor sneers, n eh pushes ays in the chist, workin up the boatil tae dae something mair. Ah takes a step back, jist as Richey the Assaultee comes oot the Welfare tae stand by ma side.

— Whae the fuck ur you? Monty asks incredulously.

Richey goes, — Look, this is a very good friend of mine, n ah hear Monty laugh behind ays.

Ah’m aboot tae tell the daft hoor that ah’ve everything worked oot and that ehs blowin it aw n eh should go inside, when Klepto says tae Richey, — What the fuck ur you sayin? Eh? Eh?