Glue by Welsh Irvine

Author:Welsh, Irvine [Welsh, Irvine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Norton
Published: 2011-12-12T06:00:00+00:00

Contingency Planning

Ah gits up in the mornin and immediately clock thit the bog wis right next door oan the other side, bit ah fuckin missed it. So fuckin what, unless you’re caught red-handed, fingers in the till, you have tae deny aw knowledge. The shower’s excellent and high-tech for such an auld gaff n ah stey under it for a long time, littin the jets pummel ays awake, then ah dry off and git dressed then head doonstairs. Gally’s already up, sittin oot oan the patio overlookin a big gairdin. It’s a misty mornin though n wi cannae see much. Thir’s nae sign ay Birrell yet. — Good morning Mr Galloway, ah goes, Morningside tea-room style.

— Mr Ewart! eh goes back in the same voice, the cunt seems on the up again, — how goes it, my fine fellow? How’s the capital gadgie this morning?

— Excellent Mr G. Whaire’s Secret Squirrel? What’s happened tae the big fit sportsman then? Eh’s no still goat the hump wi us for sortin um oot some free digs, hus eh? ah laughs. — Thoat he’d be up in the trees lookin fir nuts.

— Playin wi ehs nuts in ehs fuckin scratcher ah bet, the lazy cunt, Gally laughs. — Couldnae wake the fucker up. Some sportsman!

Ah starts tae tell Gally aboot ma dream.

Dreams are funny cunts, nae doubt aboot that. Ah’ve read a lot about them, from pop psychology tae Freud, but naebody kens for sure. That’s what ah hate most aboot the world. Too many twats sayin this is how it is. This is how it is for thaim, they mean. Where’s the fuckin doubt? Where’s the fuckin humility in the face ay the wondrous complexity ay this great cosmic universe?

— Sounds a load ay shite tae me, eh laughs, but ah think eh’s chuffed thit he came oot the best in it.

— But you must huv some weird dreams n aw ya cunt, ah sais tae um as Billy comes out ontae the balcony.

Gally shakes ehs heid. — Naw, ah nivir dream, eh goes. Billy’s lookin really angry n eh’s hudin up a wet tracksuit.

Ah decide tae tactically ignore Billy for a bit. Gally husnae seen um yit. What Gally says sounds like a load ay shite tae me. Every cunt dreams. — Ye must fuckin dream Gally, ye jist cannae mind ay it, mibbe cause yir a deep sleeper n that, ah tell um.

— Nup. Ah’ve nivir dreamt, eh sais, shakin ehs held. The cunt’s huvin nane ay it.

— Even as a wee laddie?

— No since ah wis a kid.

— What did ye dream ay then?

— Ah cannae mind, jist daft stuff, eh goes, lookin ower the gairdin as the mist starts tae clear.

Billy’s carrying the soaking wet tracksuit n runnin shoes by his fingertips, hudin them oot fae him. Eh’s goat this sportsbag turned inside oot. Eh wrings them oot for a bit. Eh’s looking well nippy as eh hings the drippin tracksuit ower the balcony. Ah feel masel shrinkin doon in the seat.

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