The Victim sat and sobbed at the TV, chain-smoking. The only thing she said to me was, – Any cigarettes, Lloyd … in a breathless, hoarse voice. Eventually they left and ah took the tupperware bowl down to Mrs McKenzie. Ah was heading through to Glasgow for the weekend to see some mates there. Ah was looking forward to it, fucked off as ah was wi Edinburgh. The thing was that ah had said tae ma mate Drewsy that I’d help him out the morn’s morning which ah wisnae really up for but it wid be cash in hand and ah needed hireys for the weekend.

4

DREWSY AND ME are in this Gumleyland ghetto. Ah think it’s Carrick Knowe but it could be Colinton Mains. Ah was fucked and hungover in the van. – It’s just a skirtin job, Lloyd. That and new doors. Take nae time at aw, he telt ays.

Drewsy always seems to be smiling because he has laughing eyes and Coke-bottle glasses. The thing is that he is a very happy cunt and gives off a good vibe. Ah worked with him ages ago out at Livingston in a sweatshop where we built house-panels, and since he went tae graft for himself he always puts a bit of casual my way if he can; which was champion the fuckin wonderhoarse fir the Double L. Oh. Y. D.

At the house, the boy, a Mr Moir, makes us a cup ay tea. – Anything you need, lads, just give’s a shout. I’ll be in the garden, he told us cheerfully.

Anywey, wir knockin oaf the rooms finestyle, and I’m starting tae feel better, looking ahead tae the night oot wi the Weedgie cunts. Drewsy and me are in this room which is like a young lassie’s bedroom. There’s a big poster ay the boy fae Oasis oan one waw, one ay the gadge fae Primal Scream and one fae the dude oot ay Blur oan the other. Close tae the bed, though, is the boy oot ay Take That, him that went and left. There’s a few tapes thair n aw. Ah pit oan Blur’s Parklife, cause ah quite like the title track where ye hear the boy that wis in Quadrophenia spraffin away. That wis a fuckin good film.

Ah start singing along as ah rip oot the old skirting-board.

– Hey! Phoah … look at this! Drewsy shouts. He’s rummaging through the lassie’s chest ay drawers and ah know which one he’s looking for. He locates the underwear drawer pretty sharpish, pulling a pair ay panties oot and sniffing at the crotch. – Wish tae fuck ah could find the dirty laundry basket, he laughs, then, suddenly inspired, goes out into the hallway and opens a few presses. There’s nothing there though – Bastard. Still, some nice wee panties here, eh?