Wee Kenzie is another matter. A key goes in the door n A cannae help sittin up a bit straighter on the couch. Michelle pulls herself up wae a wee groan n walks tae the door. A hear their voices fae the hall. ‘Hiya, son. Yir pal’s here tae see yi.’

‘Awrighty! Who’s in?’

‘Go see fur yirsel.’

A hear Tam’s heavy footsteps comin in. ‘Awright, big yin.’

‘NO WAY! Wit’s fuckin happnin, Azzy, ma boay!’ The big man comes over n shakes ma paw n bear hugs us. He husnae changed a bit, still the roadside tan, hi-vis vest n thick stubble tae hide his scar. He’s put on a few pounds anaw but looked bigger aw roon, like a grown guy. A almost feel emotional seein the cunt. He looks it anaw.

‘Long time no see, brother.’

‘Fuckin three years, ya wee cunt! Where the fuck yi been?’ Tam throws his bag n jakit on the rug n sits doon on the chair opposite. Michelle comes in n he jumps up n sits on the couch next tae me.

‘Congrats by the way! Cannae believe yees ir expectin a wean, man. That’s mad!’

‘Cheers, son. Wis unexpected, but we cannae wait.’

‘Yees know wit yir huvin?’

‘Naw, it’s a surprise. Thomas didnae want tae know. So it’s aw neutral stuff in the room, yellow n white! He’s hopin it’s a wee boy, obviously.’

‘A’m no botherin. But A kin see wee Ryan McKenzie, next fuckin superstar striker fur the Celtic. Git a free season ticket n he kin look after me n his eld maw!’

Michelle catches ma eye n shakes hur heed. ‘Or it’ll be Scarlett McKenzie n ma wee lassie will hate football n if she does like it, she’ll be a wee blue nose!’

‘Aw nut! A’ll leave the now! Take her wae yi, Azzy son. He’s a blue anaw, Michelle.’

‘You wan ae us, Michelle?’

‘Course I am! Cumbernauld Loyal!’

‘Aye, Azzy, nae fuckin joke – her brother’s in the Sons ae William! Plays the flute the cunt! Marches up n doon like a fuckin lunatic kickin the pope. Hur da goes tae the sash bashes n aw that.’

Michelle’s laughin fae the armchair n kiddin on she’s playin the flute like Gazza.

‘Did yees hear aboot the new Rangers pub doon the street?’ Tam asks.

‘Naw?’ Michelle says.

‘Aye, the fuckin Administration Bar it’s called.’

‘Hopefully it wull huv a swimmin pool in it tae keep you cunts oot!’ A say.

Big Kenzie’s laugh shakes the fuckin hoose. We’re both laughin anaw.

‘Keep laughin, Azzy son! See if yees ir laughin when yir playin pub teams every Saturday n we’re in the Champions League where we belong! Hail hail! The Celts ir here!’

‘Most successful team in the world, mate. It’s aw aboot the Rangers!’

Their wee hoose is sittin nice. Yi kin see it’s a feminine space, dotted wae wee touches ae Tam’s shite. Guy’s hooses never hud flowers or ornaments or canvasses wae more flowers on it. It’s no a showhoose but. Yi feel comfortable in their space n yi kin sit back on their couches.