Jenni Fagan - The Panopticon

‘What does Angus say, like?’

‘He’s always sticking up for you,’ she says.

We drive through some red lights, then turn down a hill heading out to the river. There’s a castle in the distance. Some lights are on in the windows. Imagine living in a castle. I cannae believe we are going poaching. I might have tae stage a humanist intervention. Fuck! I am so stoned already.

‘I hear you and Shortie had a fight?’ Ben asks, grinning.

‘Aye.’

‘I hear Shortie let you off lightly?’ he says, grinning even wider.

She looks away a wee bit sheepish, like.

‘Aye, something like that,’ I say and Shortie starts giggling, and I do too. Craig keeps glancing at me in the rear-view mirror. I’m glad I came out now.

‘So what do youz do then, now everyone knows I’m a fucking degenerate and Shortie’s hard as fuck?’

I pass her the skins, and she pulls out a wee rolling mat.

‘They’re farmers,’ she says.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ I say.

‘What’s wrong with that?’ Ben asks.

‘I’ve never been on a date with a farmer, that’s all,’ I say, trying no tae laugh, but Shortie’s laughing, her shoulders are shaking away.

‘What kind of farmers are you then?’ I ask them. ‘Are you sheep-shaggers?’

Shortie cannae roll her joint now for laughing, and the Craig guy’s smiling away.

‘You’re a wide one, ay,’ he says tae me.

‘We’re pig farmers,’ Ben says, all serious. ‘I dinnae fucking see how it’s a laughing matter!’

Me and Shortie are still giggling when we pull into some private estate. There’s a sign on the main gates that reads No Entrance.

‘I dinnae think we’re meant tae be in here,’ Shortie says.

‘Have a drink.’ Ben passes a bottle of beer to us in the back seat, then he opens another two for them.

‘We’ll not get caught,’ I say.

I light a joint. I need this. Fucking pig farmers. Fucking poaching. The night’s really pretty out, though, the sky’s an amazing dark-blue colour. Craig’s driving with the headlights off now, we roll down by the river and then stop.

‘Come on then, ladies, after youz.’ Ben gets out and opens the door for Shortie.

I get out on my side and Craig’s leaning against his door already.

‘Alright?’ he says.

‘Aye.’

Shortie and Ben are kissing over on the other side of the car. I take a drag of the joint and lean against the motor, watch the water glinting — ’s all silvered by the moon.

‘Have you got a boyfriend then, Anais?’ Craig asks.

‘Aye.’

‘No, she’s not, he’s in jail,’ Shortie says, then starts kissing again.

Craig leans in closer. He smells nice. He’s got a square jaw and he’s skinny, tall though, with wide shoulders and his hair’s quite long, nearly down tae his shoulders. He touches my hair, just lightly, then he pulls a strand off my face and tucks it behind my ear and the world goes quiet.

‘Can I kiss you?’ he asks.

He leans in, and his lips are soft, and his hair is soft, his neck’s warm. There’s shivers down my back as he touches my waist, runs his fingers down my side.

‘Are we fucking poaching or what?’ Ben appears right next to us and I open my eyes. Ben is holding out a hammer tae Craig, and he’s got another one at his side, and a torch.

‘What the fuck are youz gonnae do? Batter the fish tae death?’ I ask.

‘Aye,’ Ben says. ‘Exactly.’

‘He’s cute, isn’t he?’ Shortie says.

‘I suppose. I thought you weren’t the go-with-guys-you-dinnae-know type?’

‘He knows my brother. We only ever kiss, they’re a laugh, ay. Just decent guys.’

We sit up on the bonnet, listening to music and leaning back to look at the stars. The two of them are wading into the river. I’m really stoned now. I turn on my side and rest my face on the windscreen and watch them raising their hammers in the air.

Thud.

Thud.

The water’s splashing like mad, and they’re lobbing salmon up on tae the embankment.

‘Did you do it, Anais?’

‘What?’

‘The pig in the coma?’

‘Aye.’

‘You did, honestly?’

‘No, but lately it feels like it’d be easier tae say aye, though. I didnae kosh her, I dinnae think I did anyway.’

‘How can you not know?’

‘Cos I was so fucking wasted that day, I could have massacred the mob and no remembered. But, in here — you know, right in here — I just ken I didnae. I keep remembering bits of that day but not all of it. The experiment dinnae care, though.’

I feel the air go funny around us.

‘The what?’ she asks.

‘Nothing.’

‘What’s the experiment, Anais?’

‘Alright, gorgeous!’ Ben reappears holding up a dead salmon. He’s got blood on his hands and his face, and holds the torchlight up tae the salmon’s eyes.

‘That is giving me the boak,’ I tell him.

‘How?’ he asks.

‘Fuck, get in the car!’ Craig shouts and we turn. The estate’s Land Rover is motoring towards us, and the police are heading along the other way.

‘Someone must have seen us!’ Ben slams the door behind us, skidding the car down the gravel embankment, and me and Shortie duck down on the back seat. Craig drives us along by the river with the headlights still out.

‘Will they see us?’ Shortie whispers.

‘They better not, or I’m fucking lifted again, and I’m not having fucking poaching on my record!’ I hiss at her.

‘Shut the fuck up,’ Ben says.

‘You shut the fuck up,’ I say back tae him.

‘Hold on, girls,’ Craig says as the police siren leaps intae light and blares. We skid around on the embankment and he plunges the car right intae the river.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Shortie screams.

Water is coming up through the floor and the engine is whirring like fuck.

‘It’s shallow enough, it’s alright.’ He grinds the stick down and the car lurches up onto the far bank. The polis car is still on the other riverbank, headlights pointed at us. The policeman is getting out and gesturing to the guy from the estate.

Craig rolls down his window.

‘Fucking tossers!’ he shouts back.

‘That was great,’ Shortie says. ‘Fucking brilliant!’

THE HEADLIGHTS GLOW, until the car turns left and the lights disappear. Then there is only blackness. I turn away and keep walking silently, letting my eyes adjust to the dark. Fields swish gently in the wind. It’s so cold now — my arms are all goosebumps. The lamp posts are orange orbs in the dark, and there urnay many of them. I suppose nobody normally walks along here at night.

I cannae believe Shortie decided to stay out with Ben. Craig asked me to stay, but I cannae. I’m late, but at least I’ll not get done for absconding if I go back now. I didnae mean to have sex with him — but he was … he was just nice. I dinnae want to see him again, though, I’m not into farmers.

Something flies up out from a field to my left and I shit myself. I’m still buzzy, hyper-aware. Shapes in the hedge-rows. Silhouettes in the trees. A cow watches from a field.

There are no cars out. No headlights. Not even miles away. Nothing. Just the swish, swish, swish of fields. The sound of my sneakers hitting the tarmac, me clicking a lighter round and round, a wee flash of flame in the dark.

The Panopticon’s a big looming hulk. It’s too big, like somewhere that a giant lives. I dinnae want to go back in there. Stop at the gates and I can tell the gargoyle’s been waiting to see how my night went.

‘What?’ I ask him.

It must be nearly 4 a.m. Surely it’ll get light soon? The ground’s frosty, they say it’s gonnae snow soon, but it shouldnae until November and that’s still a few days away.