aye?’ Ash said, putting her arm round my shoulders.
‘Help me, Ashley,’ I said, closing my eyes and putting my head on her shoulder. ‘What am I to do?’
‘You must think of her on the toilet,’ Aline said, and giggled.
‘Off-white woman speak truth,’ Ash said, lowering her head to rest it on mine. ‘The hots rarely survive an intense course of imagining the beloved on the cludgie.’
‘No,’ I sighed, opening my eyes as a series of splashes announced another chaotic event on the spillway. ‘I’d probably only develop a fetish for coprophagy.’
‘Pardon?’
‘That as unpleasant as it sounds?’
‘Unpleasanter.’
‘Merde!’
‘Yup.’
‘You’re a hopeless case, Prentice, so you are. Have you contemplated suicide?’
‘Yeah; soon as it’s finished, I’m going to throw myself off the Channel Tunnel.’
Ashley’s shoulders moved once under my head. ‘Plenty of time to set your affairs in order, then.’
‘It’s not my affairs I’m concerned with.’
‘Ach, she wasn’t your sort, anyway, Prentice.’
‘What; you mean not good enough for me?’
‘No, Prentice; I mean too much taste. You never stood a chance with a woman that choosy.’
I pulled away and looked dubiously at Ashley, who smiled sweetly. ‘What is this?’ I said. ‘You auditioning for the Exit chapter of the Samaritans, or what?’
Ashley took my hands in hers. ‘Ah, Prentice. Dinnae worry; maybe it’s just an infatuation; hers, or Lewis’s ... or yours. Whatever. Maybe she’ll come to her senses. Maybe she wants to work her way through all the McHoan brothers in order of age -’
‘Or weight.’
‘ - or weight. Maybe she’ll get married to Lewis but have a lifelong affair with you.’
‘Oh, great.’
‘See? You don’t know what might happen,’ Ashley said happily, spreading her hands.
‘Anyway, Prentice,’ Aline said in her sing-song voice. ‘There are plenty more fishes in the sea, yes?’
I looked over at Aline. ‘Hey, can I quote you on that?’
Aline winked at me, tapped the side of her nose. ‘The toilet,’ she said conspiratorially.
I started to get up. ‘It’s no good,’ I sighed. ‘You two are cheering me up too much and I can’t stand the excitement.’ I got wearily to my feet, muscles aching from the effects of drink and walk.
‘See you down the Jac tonight?’ Ash said.
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘I keep trying to drown my sorrows but they appear to be marginally more buoyant than expanded polystyrene.’ The water cascaded down the face of the spillway again, the noise like a million stamping feet heard from a long way off. I shrugged. ‘Fuck it, though; worth another try. Gotta start working some time.’
‘That’s my boy.’
‘See you, gals.’
‘Bye-bye, Prentice.’
‘Try not to fall in love with anybody else before tonight.’
‘Yo.’
An hour or so later I saw my mother’s green Metro, just about to turn out of the drive-way of Hamish and Tone’s house. She stopped when she saw me, wound the window down. ‘Here you are,’ she said.
‘Here I am,’ I agreed.
‘I was waiting for ages there.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Oh well. Getting in?’
I got into the car; we started to reverse the fifty yards back up the drive. Actually, my legs were so tired I was quite grateful for the lift. ‘I brought what I could find of Rory’s stuff.’ Mum nodded. ‘Your dad thinks there’s more, but it’s buried in the filing.’ I looked at the back seat, where a folder lay. ‘Not that you deserve it,’ she added.
‘Oh, thanks,’ I said. I picked the folder up; CRII said the lettering on the spine. It looked similar to the folder I already had, but perhaps a little thicker. I vaguely remembered reminding mum last night that I was looking for the rest of Uncle Rory’s papers.
‘Well?’ she said.
I looked over, yawning. ‘Well?’ I repeated.
We drew to a stop outside the door of the house. ‘You don’t remember last night, do you?’ mum said, turning the ignition off. She was dressed in angora and chunky cords; new perfume. She looked slightly unamused and not a little worried.
‘Not... in its entirety, no,’ I confessed.
She shook her head. ‘God, you were drunk, Prentice.’
‘Umm,’ I said, weighing the folder in my hands. ‘... Yes.’ I smiled my best ‘but I’m still your wee laddy’ smile.
She raised those delicate brown brows. ‘My God, you don’t remember embarrassing Lewis and Verity last night, do you?’
I looked at her.
‘I mean, apart from embarrassing your father and me,’ she added.
I felt the blood draining from my face like somebody had opened a valve in my ankle. Oh-oh.
I swallowed. ‘I wasn’t doing my impression of the Bradford City supporter, the King’s Cross Disaster victim and the guy