‘Don’t you realise your wee wanders out of school raise questions at the office? I don’t care about that, Alan, but my boss does. Your guidance teacher says if your attendance drops much more—’

‘Awk, they always exaggerate, Mum.’

‘Alan, it’s a percentage – how can they exaggerate that? Seventy, to be precise.’

‘It cannae be … they musty got it wrong. They claim tae teach maths tae—’

‘Musty … that’s how the loft smells. You think you’ll get a good job talking like that?’

‘A’m no wantin wan ae yir fancy joabs.’

‘You will. When you find yourself a nice girl, n have a nice flat n a nice car, you’ll want to treat her, n heat it n fuel it. Won’t you?’

‘Obviously …’

‘Well then, you need to think ahead. All those daft marks in school result in all the nice things in life. Let alone security for your own family, one day.’

‘Right, A’m away oot anyways!’

‘Be careful, Alan, and be nice to Shaun, his mum isn’t doing very well,’ she says back, pure flat.

By Shaun she means Shaun Brown, Wee Broonie. Ma maw, Angela, went tae school wae his maw, Alice. The two ae them hud been pals n hud grew up in the same street. Angela Williams’ parents, ma granny n granda, hud been brilliant folk. Ma Granda, Alan, who A wis named after, hud been in the Highland Light Infantry as a young man. He hud ended his career in the railway polis. A right good man. Ma Granny Anne hud been a textile factory worker n later a seamstress repairin wumen’s dresses. They hud two lassies, Angela n Abigail, ma maw n ma aunty.

Fortune favoured ma aunt. She hud met hur ain good man, married young n hud ma cousin, Stacey. Bill Davies is a lawyer, Glasgow Uni graduate. He’s a flashy bastard, drives a Mercedes and wears square-lookin suits, usually pin-striped. He’s git a fat face wae sunbed wrinkles around a starched collar. He is definitely the breadwinner. Abigail played the obligin housewife well. She hud never really worked a day but wanted fur nuhin. They’ve git a four-bedroom hoose on the outskirts ae town. Ma maw is just a wee quiet hard-workin wuman n ma da died years back. Didnae know the cunt n ma maw barely mentions him. He’s just a vengeful ghost that floats aboot the place n sometimes haunts ma imagination. Most ae ma pals huv das but plenty aboot here didnae.

Nae family is perfect. Mine defo isnae but beside the usual petty differences n family shite, there ir folk who huv it bad. A didnae huv it bad, no by any standard. Alice n Steven Brown ir alcoholics. They hud aw ran aboot as weans, but in their twenties – while ma maw worked n ma auntie met Bill – they hud gone the other way. Ma maw told me the story. Why ma friend Shaun wore different trainers. Why his hair is naturally thinner n he shaves it aff. Why his mum n dad never came tae his school plays, nativities, parents’ nights or anyhin else. Why he wid huv a fifty-pence mix-up aff the van but nae warm dinner on the table every night. He wis wan ae the weans wae their primary school uniform on who trailed the streets after dark n bedtime.