Irvine Welsh - Filth

Of course I’m well wide for this game and I’m fucked if that spastic Lennox is squirming off the hook until I’m ready for him to do so. – Well Maisie, if ye wanted tae get yir lips around the sweetest piece ay prime Scotch beef, I kiss my fingertips and shut my eyes in an exquisite gesture, then thumb over at Ray, – D.S. Lennox here is yir man.

– As ah say Bruce, those days are over for me, but if they wernae, wi this fine lookin laddie here, well, it’d be mixin business wi pleasure, ah kin tell ye. She licks her lips at Lennox, who’s looking like his fuckin soul has just imploded.

Aye Lennox, you’ll ken. To save his further embarrassment Maisie goes off on a story concerning one of our city fathers. – Thir wis one Lord Provost, this wis wey before your time son, Maisie nods at Ray, then turns tae me. – You’ll mind ay him Bruce?

– Oh yes . . . by reputation alone though Maisie. Ah’m no that auld!

– Ah didnae mean it like that, yir jist a laddie bichrist, she smiles with those cat’s-erse lips, the moisture having been sucked from those just as sure as they’ve sucked out the semen of millions of punters from here and overseas. – Naw I’m talking aboot Provost . . . well, it wid be improper tae mention names. Bit this Provost was well known amongst the local girls for wanting tae conduct his liaisons wearing the ceremonial robes and chains of the City of Edinburgh.

– Rumour had it, I interject, – that he couldnae get it up otherwise.

– That’s true Bruce son, and take that as comin fae the horse’s mooth. Eh telt ays himself, he said: Maisie, ma wife disnae understand me. She disnae like me wearing the robes around the house. The thing is Bruce, Raymond, she wouldnae let him dae it with her wearin these robes. But you know how the Provost looked: an awfay indistinguished wee man. Naebody recognised him oot ay the gowns, the man’s whole identity and sense ay power came fae they robes. One day the administration at the Provost’s office sent the gowns away tae be cleaned. The Provost had tae conduct his duties in his suit and tie. The thing was, that every Thursday night the perr wee man had booked in doon here fir a wee session wi a couple ay the lassies. The Provost was nervous aboot having tae perform withoot his ceremonial robes, so he had a few nippy sweeties fir Dutch courage.

– As one does, I smirk.

– Well, Maisie continues, taking my hint and refilling my glass, – the Provost got really drunk. When he came doon here he took oaf aw his clathes and refused tae leave or pit them back oan until he had his robes. He was screaming: I am the Lord Provost of the City of Edinburgh and I will shut down this foul house of debauchery! Ye could hear him right acroas Leith! The only thing that would satisfy the Provost was the return of his robes. Now they were in Pullars of Perth, the South Side branch, who at the time were drycleaners to the Provost’s office. We had the number of the Provost’s chief political ally, the chairman of the housing department. He got oantae the Chief Coonstable who did a deal wi Alec Connolly whae wis in police custody at the time, oan a drunk n disorderly charge.

– Post Alec, I smile. – He’s still kicking aboot. A top housebreaker before the bevvy claimed him and he lost the plot. Spent a good number ay years working for the GPO eftir that, before he got even too pished up to haud doon these duties!

– Aye, ehs an awfay man is Alec, Maisie says with some affection. – Well, she continues, – they said that they would drop the charges against Alec if he broke intae Pullars of Perth and recovered the robes. So Alec said, Aye, nae bother. The thing was, and you ken Alec, Bruce, I nod with a smile, – he wis fleein, that was the reason eh wis in your custody in the first place. So Alec’s brekin intae the shoap, while the Provost’s still doon here, and he’s screaming: I want my robes! If you don’t get my robes I’ll close this place down! And mind, what he said went. Then he went tae the kitchen and got a knife. The girls were terrified, but he got his own clothes and started ripping and tearing them to shreds. I am the Lord Provost! I wear the robes of my office! I do not wear this fucking shite! He was shouting. Well, Alec had broken in awright but something went wrong. He either lifted the wrong packet or it was unclearly labelled and he picked up this bag he thought was marked Lord Provost’s Office. In the meantime we had got the Provost so drunk that he’d passed oot. When Alec got doon here wi the package, we found out there was just a lady’s fur coat inside. It seems that they’d taken the Provost’s robes up tae the head office in Perth for specialist treatment. So we dressed the Provost in this coat and stuck him in a taxi hame, Maisie smirked.

I nudge Lennox, – Wait till ye hear this bit Ray.

– Well, the taxi driver, unknown tae us, had just been bumped for his fare by a squad of laddies gaun oot tae Niddrie. He wis in nae mood tae find that when he got tae the Provost’s address, that there wis only an unconscious, naked man in a fur coat wi nae money in the back ay his car.

– What did he dae? Ray asks.

Maisie takes a bracing sip of whisky. – The driver thinks, I’ll show this cheeky swine. He drives back into town and up the Calton Hill. He drags the unconscious Provost oot the car and lays him out on the monument, the big half-finished yin wi the pillars, the one they call the disgrace ay Edinburgh. A patrol car came along a bit later and found a group of the young funny fellies that used tae hing aboot up there having a line up wi the Provost.

Ray’s eyes widen.

– Provost . . . well, let’s just call him Provost X, was well known for his hostility tae the gay community, I explain. – He’d knocked back permission for them to open a drop-in centre. Said it would be a hot-bed of sodomy. Anyway, the Provost was found by that patrol car a little later on. The young queens scattered. It was kept out the papers, but it was all around the grapevine. As you say Maisie, that monument had long been known as Edinburgh’s disgrace, but the name had dropped out of common usage. That incident certainly popularised it again!

– Rumour had it that the Provost gave up the whisky after that, Maisie cackles, – reckoned it gave him a sair erse!

We laughed for a bit until I grew fed up and stopped abruptly and looked coldly at Maisie. – The new lassie Maisie. I think I’m ready to check her out now. Meet her, and perhaps arrange a wee date for the night.

– Surely Bruce, surely, Maisie says, rising from her chair and departing.

– She’s some woman Maisie, eh, Ray smiles, – a real character.

– Aye, sure. That’s no the wey it works wi women Ray, I lecture sagely, – Women are like tetrapaks: it isnae what’s inside that’s important, the crucial thing is tae git these flaps open. Never forget that, I tell him.

The visit has a spin-off. – This is Claire, Maisie introduces us tae this wee doll.

Maisie’s new hoor is a class act who has split from her murderous bastard of a pimp in Aberdeen and she’s into doing good turns for the polis in order to get some level of protection. I take one look at this wee waif and volunteer myself for the job. Of course she’s anything but, merely employing the hoor’s acting skill to the full. I crack this code straight away and arrange for her to call at mines tonight. This is a risky approach for all sorts of reasons but if we wait for Carole to get sensible

pies with chips, the wey only Crawford’s can do them, stacked high and smothered in grease. Just fuckin flour really, but they do the job.