Pedro Lenz - Naw Much of a Talker

Thanks. You an’ aw. Oh — Frau Balsiger, summit’s jist come back intae ma heid. Is your Rudi still wi the bank?

Aye, he’s authorized tae act noo even.

Where’s he stayin these days?

They built a hoose in Thunstetten. Hiv ye heard he’s two weans awready?

Oan the grapevine, aye. Well — cheerio again, Frau Balsiger.

Cheerio, Goalie. An’ dont dae nuthin ah widnae.

Ah wont, naw.

Wee Balsiger’s maw’s actually really nice, ah mean: in comparison tae some folk ah kid name. The fact she asks directly when she wants tae know summit’s naw bad eether.

In a phonebox near the cemetery, ah open the telephone directory at the Thunstetten bit an’ look fur wee Balsiger’s address. Then ah go — through the fog — up tae where he stays. He’s in the middle ae his dinner when ah ring the doorbell, says it disnae matter but, jist tae come in. His wife is fae aroon Solothurn. She’s wan ae they wimmen who — disnae matter hoo often yir introduced — ye kin nivver mind the name ae, or remember her face, cos there’s fuck-aw memorable aboot her. She’s friendly enough, says tae sit doon, there’s still plenty o risotto. Ah lie but an’ say ahv awready eaten. Wee Balsiger says he’s done eatin anyhow an’ shows me intae the livin room so she kin pit their brats tae bed.

In the livin room, there’s a leather sofa an’ two matchin armchairs. The bookshelves an’ the TV unit ur the same colour. Anthracite. If that actually is a colour, that is. It exists only in furniture catalogues, practically, an’ garage forecourts. Ah kid swear Balsiger’s car’s anthracite an’ aw. Ah look at the big picture that’s hingin above the sofa, a Mediterranean evenin, water colours, beautiful, but a bit random but, like his wife. Wid ah like a coffee, Balsiger asks. Yeah, ah wid, ah say. Then ask is it okay tae smoke.

It wid be better oot oan the terrace. Cos ae the weans, eh?

Course. Nae bother. Ah kin wait.

Whit brings ye tae me, Goalie?

Ahv a bank inquiry.

Is it a mortgage yir lookin fur?

The words ur hardly ootae his mooth, hardly, afore ye kin see he noo realises the question’s fuckin stupit. Ah dont answer right away an’ he goes tae get the coffee. Bet ye he his a guid coffee machine, ah think tae masel, then ah look tae see whit books he his. Maist ae them ur probably his wife’s, a loatae true stories, a loatae life coaches. Ye hiv tae hope, at least, she finds stuff in there that helps her.

Whit dae ye take in yir coffee? Sugar? Cream?

Naw, nuthin. At maist, a guid shot ae schnapps or summit.

Ah kin offer ye a cognac.

Better still.

So Goalie, ye wantit tae ask me summit tae dae wi the bank.

Aye, jist summit theoretical. Whit wid happen — jist assumin, of course — if fae wan day tae the next, ah suddenly hid a loatae-loatae money, hawf a million say, or whitivver. Kid ah jist come tae yous an’ give it: Lads, ahv a loatae spandooley, open an account fur us, wid ye, jist dont ask where ah hiv it all fae.

In certain circumstances, that wid be possible, aye. It wid hiv us wonderin but, of course. Me personally, ahd hiv a bad feelin aboot it. Ah wid ask questions, specially if it wis someone who wisnae a customer awready

Whit ye mean is: if someone awready his quite a loatae dough in his account an’ then suddenly his even mair, that’s less suspicious than if someone’s got fuck-aw an’ then suddenly loads?

Fur sure, aye.

An’ if that somebody — who awready his a loatae dough an’ turns up wi a hale lot mair fae somewhere — suddenly gi’es it he wants tae buy a hoose in Spain, wid ye gi’e him a mortgage?

The minute ah mentioned Spain, wee Balsiger gulped several times. Ah seen it. He recovered but an’ said quite calmly:

Mibbe. That’s very possible. There ur different criteria, ye know, when we gi’e oot mortgages. Capital resources, value ae the property, income, interest rate trends etc. An’ if it aw looks okay, the guy gets the mortgage. Why ye askin?

Cos ah dae the fuckin lottery.

Ah now knew whit ah needed tae. So ah tried tae talk tae Balsiger aboot the past a bit. Like pullin fuckin teeth, it wis. It didnae surprise me but. You only hiv tae look at the anthracite theme runnin through his hoose tae know the cunt wants fuck-aw tae dae wi his past. Wee Balsiger hid brushed any memories ae his past intae a corner, same way ye’d pit an auld armchair up in the loft. The past, fur wee Balsiger, is a necessary evil jist. A past, in the guid sense ae the word, disnae exist fur him. So ah tellt him a bit aboot me, tellt him things wur improvin ivry day, ah nae doot hid the worst ae it behind me noo, an’ hid learnt summit fae aw that, even if ah still didnae know whit exactly, ahd definately learnt summit. Balsiger wis pleased tae hear it, an’ ah think he wis bein genuine when he wished me aw the best.

Ah waited till his wife came back fae pittin the weans tae bed. Then ah said thanks an’ cheerio an’ left.

Ootside, it wis dork, wet, an’ there wis a bit ae wind, aye, wind mair than anythin, the air wis cauld, thon way it goes straight fur yir fuckin lung. Disnae matter, ah thought, jist walk a bit faster an’ ye’ll warm up. By the time ah rang the doorbell at Gross’s hawf an hoor later, ah wis feelin hot, jist aboot.

Sorry, Herr Gross, ye’ll hiv tae forgive me fur botherin ye at this time ae night.

Look who it is! Goalie! That’s naw bad as surprises go — really.

Guid evenin, Herr Gross. Kin ah come in?

Mon ahead, Goalie, c’mon ahead. Whit brings ye tae me?

Guid evenin, Frau Gross.

Guid evenin, Goalie.

Gross said tae his wife tae git anither glass. He wis jist havin a glass ae rid wine wi her in the kitchen, ye see. It wis a nice thought, that: the hunter, when he’s naw oot chasin some petty crook or ither, sits of an evenin wi his wife in their kitchen, drinkin rid wine. Ah said that wis really nice ae him, ah didnae want tae mix ma drinks but, it wid be nice if he’d a wee cognac insteid.

That’s whit ah like aboot you, Goalie, ye nivver come oan aw humble.

Know whit ah like aboot you, Herr Gross? Fact ye drink a bottle ae rid wi yir wife in the kitchen. Anywan else yir age an’ in your position wid probably be watchin telly noo an’ sayin only the bare minimum tae the missus. Naw you but. Naw, yous drink rid wine thegither an’ talk tae each ither.

Watchin telly’ll get ye naewhere, Goalie.

Exactly. Jist whit ah wis sayin. Guid honest work disnae get ye anywhere eether but. Listen, Herr Gross, fur mair

than a month noo, ahv hid a permanent joab. Believe me but, ahv still naw managed tae save anythin.

Ye hiv tae be patient, Goalie. All things come to him who waits.

Know whit ah think, boss? Ah think ahv waited a loat awready, faur faur too much in fact — an’ faur too little his come tae me.

Whit ye sayin, Goalie?

Ahm sayin: that’s me offski. Ahv come tae say goodbye, Herr Gross. Yiv noo wan cunt less tae look oot fur.

Gross fae the Drug Squad looked at me, wide-eyed, while his wife poured a cognac wi’oot sayin nuthin.

First but, ye want tae get things straight, Goalie. Is that where ah come in?

Naw, ahv got things straight awready. Ah noo know who ma friends ur, an’ who — mair probably — urnae.

Tell me, Goalie. Tell me yir stories. Ye can tell me. An’ ahv time.

Ye know me well, Herr Gross, mibbe jist naw well enough. Ahd like tae tell ye a story. Aboot the piece ae business that kid interest ye but, ah’ll be tellin ye absolutely nuthin. The wan thing ah kin say is: ah noo — mair or less — hiv a clear overview. An’ that’s how ahm packin ma bags. There’s nuthin tae keep me in this village, cept mibbe Regula. She kin come wi me if she wants but.