‘Naw it won’t. A’m gonnae settle it, once n fur aw.’

‘Oh, Alan, please don’t talk like that.’

A didnae mean tae say things like this in front ae ma maw. What A said in anger, she took fur gospel, n it kept hur up nights when A hud calmed doon n wis perfectly safe. She hud heard far too much violent talk across the years, talk ae smashin n stabbin fuck oot cunts in revenge, that would never materialise once yi sobered up n yir blood wis wiped aff yi wae antiseptic. Wumen suffered as witnesses n nurses tae our wars, it wis the wans who love yi who cleaned yi up n hud tae deal wae the aftermath, time n time again. ‘A’m sorry. A didnae come back lookin fur trouble, Mum.’

‘I know that. But there’s idiots here that will drag you back in! You can’t keep losing your temper and running out to hit folk if they throw stones at your windows. Alan, you’re playing right into their hands. People can’t bear to see others getting on.’

She’s bang on n A’ve nae protests. Yi hud spent yir full youth learnin tae fight n act bold. Noo, yi huv tae unlearn it. Don’t retaliate, even if cunts ir right in yir face laughin at yi. Cos the wan cunt yi lift yir hands tae wid git hurt n you’d end up in court n then it’s finished. There wid be nae life beyond aw this n aw the struggle is fur nuhin. This is the new challenge. Tae keep that boldness inside n let it go.

‘Yir right. A’m sorry aboot the window n the blinds.’

‘I’m not bothering about those – it’s you I’m worrying about! I don’t want things to go back like they used to be. I honestly don’t think I could manage now … not back to all that.’ Ma maw looks older wae every word that comes oot hur mouth.

A cannae offer any guarantees wit wid happen. This is the woman who taught me never tae make a promise yi cannae keep. A cannae promise everyhin is gonnae be awright, cos yi just never know aboot here. Ma maw doesnae deserve this shite. She’s lookin elder n less capable ae puttin up wae it. A wisnae wan ae the weans wae pure young parents. Somecunts’ maws ir only in their early forties when they’re in their twenties. Ma maw is in her late fifties noo, fae a different time. She didnae understand aw this – drugs n street violence – but she wis well versed in the consequences. In the past, moments like this A wid be fuckin ragin, phonin ma pals tae go n cause havoc, but there’s naebody really left tae phone. Where is the famous Young Team noo? A’m alone tae face ma past.

A drive up intae the Toi’s scheme, the dodgy bit where they aw stay. A’m sittin at the end ae the street lookin aboot but A’m only makin maself angry dain this shit. There’s nae point goin smashin windaes like they wee dicks. A’m comin back oot the street n A see somecunt walkin wae a burd n a pram. A slow doon n edge oot by a parked motor. The cunt looks up fae his wean n catches ma eye. It’s Div Peters. A see him freeze n whisper suhin tae his burd. She grabs the pram n starts headin back the way they hud come. Div continues doon the street alone, walkin twice as fast as he wis. A roll the motor up tae the kerb beside him n slide the windae doon a wee bit. ‘Dae yi honestly think A wis gonnae try suhin when yi hud yir wean there?’ Div straightens up n looks in the windae but doesnae say nuhin. ‘Wit kind ae fuckin animal dae yooz think A’m ir?’