Pedro Lenz - Naw Much of a Talker

Sorry, but Uli’s jist a tube but. Ah didnae say that tae Paco, o course. Ah keep it tae masel jist. It’s naw summit ah need tae tell any cunt else. Naw even Uli. Gets on yir tits but, ye can nivver make a proper arrangement wi the cunt. Ivver.

Okay, it has tae be said: he got me this flat. The roof o’er ma heid is thanks tae him. Tae his auld man’s connections.

But sorry but: the place disnae belong tae the cunt. Ah pay rent. Ah mean: thanks, Uli, thanks very much, thanks a lot, mate, a thoosan fuckin thank-yous, but it’s got fuck aw tae dae wi the deal us two made, you & I. If ye tell a mate ye’ll hiv the dosh ye owe him by such an’ such a date, ye make fuckin sure yiv fuckin got it by that date, or ye get in fuckin touch, ye give him a wee phone, ye drop him a fuckin line, send him a fuckin message — naw, ah widnae know how tae word it eether, ye say summit but, ye dont fuckin vanish aff the planet.

Ah looked at the clock, up oan the wall beside the faded Real Madrid penant, same beam the flourescent tubes ur on. Hawf eleven awready. Wan last Veterano, then get tae fuck hame, ah thought. Shitin weather. Gimme a schnapps, Paco, an’ pour it nice eh, fuckin freeze ye it wid ootside again.

Strange, there wisni mair in oan a Friday. A few young yins playin table fitba, a few auld yins hivin a natter an’ that wis it. An’ me waitin. Fur summit.

Mon, mate, dae summit, ye need tae fuckin dae summit, ah tellt masel. Ah ordered anither brandy. Guid joab ahd Regi’s fifty. Yir a diffrint person so ye ur wi cash in yir wallet. If ah dont find Uli soon but, Regula’s goney hiv tae wait tae get paid back.

Thinkin o Regula hid me greetin aw ae a sudden. Dont know how masel, fuckin embarrassin it wis but: sittin on yir ain at a table an’ the tears trippin ye.

Closin time, Goalie!

Paco’s missus. If need be, she caws the shots roon here. Ensures the rules ur kept. Paco’s too fuckin saft. He cannae throw folk oot, cannae bring himsel tae dae it. She kin but.

Ah rubbed ma eyes, pretended they wur irritatin me, paid an’ left tae go hame. Ah didnae take the maist direct route but. Naw, ah wantit tae drop by Cobbles, see if Regula wis finishin her work an’ aw mibbe. So ah smoke a fag in the courtyaird, keep an eye on the back door, thinkin that’s the door she’d go ootae. Lights wur still oan in the pub. Wid be nice tae see her, even fur a wee minute jist, ah thought. Ah waited in the dork, unner the porch. Ye widnae hiv seen me fae the street an’ naw fae the carpark eether, thank fuck. Buddy wis waitin oan her an’ aw, ye see. Buddy wis sittin in his motor. Buddy wis her bloke — it wis official. Buddy wis pickin Regula up fae her work cos it wis his responsibility, cos that’s whit ye dae if yiv a burd who serves behind a bar an’ ye want tae be sure she gets hame safe. Specially if she works at a place like Cobbles, frequented by dangerous cunts like me. By worse cunts than me an’ aw.

Congratu-fuckin-lations, Buddy, yiv it aw under control so ye hiv: ye check yir motor, check yir burd, check yir hair, Buddy, ye check yir blood pressure, you’re the boss, Buddy, hunner percent, the champ, Buddy, she’s yours, yiv it aw in the palm ae yir hand, ye hiv her in the palm ae yir hand, well done, aye — well done, well done, Buddy, ya fuckin wimp, an’ ah spat on the fuckin grun.

Ahd nowt, at that there moment. Nada. Nae claim oan the lassie. Nae money. Naw a hope. Nowt. Ah jist wantit tae stroll past as she wis leavin her work, like it wis a coincidence like, an’ gi’e it: Look who it is, Regula! You oan yir way hame an’ aw? Where ye headin, Regi? Mon, ah’ll take ye. Naw, it’s naw oota ma way, naw, really, it’s nae bother, ah wantit tae go that wey anyhoo.

As we walked, ahd then hiv done ma “mysteriously silent” act. Usually works, that yin. Specially if she’s been behind a bar aw day. Ye dont go nippin her brain at hawf one in the mornin. Naw, ye need tae be able tae shut the fuck up, tae listen if she’s tellin ye summit, an’ even if she’s naw. An’ then, later, ootside her door, a wee hug an’ a kiss on each cheek, naw: the three kisses we dae, an’ ye make the last last that wee bit longer, that wee bit longer than usual. Then ye get tae fuck. Ye dont forget tae turn back but an’ g’ie her a wee wave.

That’s hoo ahd hiv played it. An’ she’d be thinkin: he’s an awright guy, Goalie. Jist been in the jail furra year an’ hisnae any money, he’s got class but. Why’d he hesitate like that at the last kiss? Ahm sure ahm right: he hesitated, sorta. As if he wantit it tae last longer. Or ahm ah wrang?

That’s the kinda partin thoughts women like Regula like. The note tae leave them oan. Tae keep them happy.

It wis jist me thinkin them but. An’ up aheid in the shadows wis Buddy in his tarted-up Toyota fuckin Celica, the sound system turned right up, nae doot, the heatin an’ aw, probably. An’ here’s me, on ma fuckin tod, freezin ma arse aff oan a drafty corner, useless cunt that ah am. Ahv nae music eether.

Hey, Goalie, whit’s up? Whit ye daein, still here? Ye tryin tae catch yir fuckin death or whit? ah said tae masel, then took aff hame. On ma tod, as usual.

Regula isnae the only wan who knows. Ah wis up in the Joke furra while — Dinner, B&B — an’ yeah, fur drugs it wis. Naw as if ah wis the first, is it. It’s naw a big deal. Temporary setback, that’s aw. It didnae work oot. That’s aw. Nae fuckin excuses. Ah fucked up. A few folk knew too much an’ some ae they cunts talked too much. Got fucked over, ah did, ended up oan the inside. Ah done ma time. Took the blame. Aw ae it. Ah didnae name any names an’ — if ye think aboot it — that’s actually sayin summit. It’s by wi noo. Aw over. Sorry. There’s nowt else ah want tae say aboot it. Naw yet, at least. The wan thing ahd add is: as usual, ah done ivrythin masel. By that, ah mean: ah aye went fur whit ah needed masel, an’ it wisnae aroon here eether. Ah wis nivver involved in anythin big. Wantit fuck aw tae dae wi the dealers here in the Fog, where ivry cunt knows ivry ither cunt, an’ nae cunt’s ivver pleased fur ye unless ye catch the fuckin flu or a nasty rash or summit. Ah always done things masel jist, cept fur this wance, the time ah also fuckin copped it.

Ahm tryin tae get back oan ma feet noo, tae settle doon. Lookin furra job, ah am, summit steady. I’ve got masel a roof o’er ma heid awready, well, ah didnae, Uli did, or tae be mair exact: his auld man did. It’s naw bad, two rooms, central heatin, an’ it his a bath — really guid, actually. An’ noo, ah definitely need a joab so ah dae. Or things’ll go the wey they shouldnae again.

Course, ah kid jist go oot an’ arrange summit, if ah took it intae ma heid, tell a few fuckin sob stories, soft-talk this yin or that yin, make a few calls, check oot a few things, keep ma eyes an’ ears open, nane ae that wid be a problem. Ahm the “communicative type”, that wey at least. An ahv the economy sussed, mair or less. Above aw: ah know ivry cunt, an’ ah mean: ivry cunt , inside an’ ootside the Fog. The problem’s jist: ah know aw that awready. An’ that’s naw whit ah want any mair, ah want an ordinary joab, dosh goin intae ma accoont at the end ae the month, an’ an end-o-year bonus, or thirteenth salary payment, an’ ta-very-much, Goalie, over an’ oot.

An’ Regula. Ah want her noo an’ aw. Sometimes, lately, when ahm hingin aroon the hoose, ah think ae her, an’ whit ahd say tae her, an’ whit ah widnae above aw. An’ then ah imagine whit she wid say, whit she’d dae, whit she’d think, an’ in ivry case it wid be spot oan, ah reckon. Strange as fuck, it is. Wiv known each ither fur ages an’ ages awready. Yet it’s only since ah got ootae jail, ahv been thinkin ae her. Or tae be mair exact: since thon night she lent me the fifty. Strange as fuck, intit. Explain that yin.