to.’
Plunge piped up. ‘I thought I saw him earlier.’
The rest of them seemed to notice Plunge for the first time.
‘Really?’ said Gary. ‘Here? I thought he was a bit of a recluse these days. Are you sure it was him?’
‘We’re talking about Neil Cargill? Joined the Marines? Yeah, I’m sure I saw him earlier. It wasn’t in the reunion bit, he was over the other side of the club, on his own. He’s a stocky fucker, with tattoos? I’m sure it was him.’
Plunge turned to point to where he had seen Neil. To the right of the DJ booth was a dark area, where the lights seemed not to reach into the corner, but there was no one there. They all craned their necks in comedy unison, like meerkats on the lookout, to see further into the dark recesses of Bally’s, the swarm of drunkards around them making it impossible to see clearly for more than a fleeting moment.
‘It was a while ago, about an hour or something,’ said Plunge, as if trying to justify the lack of a Neil Cargill in the corner of the room. ‘But I did see him.’
‘He got chucked out the Marines, didn’t he?’ said Jonathan.
‘Did he?’ said David.
‘Yeah, I’m sure I read it in the paper or something. He fought in the first Gulf War – Desert Storm and all that – and then I’m sure I read that he got discharged not long after. Don’t know whether it was because he was injured or what, but there was definitely something in the paper about it.’
‘Seems weird,’ said Nicola, ‘thinking that someone our age was out fighting in wars ten years ago. Can’t imagine what it must’ve been like.’
‘Just watch the news, we’re doing it all over again,’ said Gary.
David wasn’t really interested in talking about politics, the mention of the current conflict flicking a switch in him to off. He wanted to change the subject.
‘Right, seeing as how we’re here to remember our school days, I can’t help feeling that we should be getting into the spirit more. For a start, we are not nearly drunk enough. I suggest some drinking games. You lot grab a booth and I’ll get another round in.’
It was past two and the three of them were seriously steaming.
‘Check out Mr and Mrs Loverpants there,’ said Nicola, pointing at a couple in the adjacent booth, virtually screwing each other on the stained, raggedy seating. ‘We were never that bad, were we?’
‘What, you mean the two of us?’ said David. ‘I never got the chance.’
Nicola tried to hit him affectionately on the arm, only she missed and fell slightly against him. She righted herself. ‘No, I don’t mean the two of us, I mean us – our generation. We were never just out-and-out shagging in the middle of Bally’s, were we?’
‘Maybe we weren’t,’ said Gary, ‘but some people were.’
‘Really?’ said Nicola. ‘It’s amazing what you don’t remember. Like, I don’t remember so many of our year being such arseholes.’
‘That’s about all I remember,’ said David. ‘Although I was just sitting here thinking they weren’t as bad as they used to be.’
‘Fuck off,’ said Nicola. ‘They’re twats, the lot of them. Present company excluded.’
‘But what about the lot we were in the Lochlands with last night? They’re all right, aren’t they?’
‘Aye, I’m not talking about them either.’
‘Who are you talking about, exactly?’
‘The arseholes. The twats. Kirsty Boyd and her pals, and all the rest.’
‘Now Kirsty,’ said Gary, waving a green chartreuse around in front of his face, ‘she is an arsehole. And a twat. I’d still shag her, likes.’
‘Then you are a sad man, Gary Spink,’ said Nicola.
‘Nicola, you are absolutely right,’ said Gary.
‘And what about you?’ Nicola said, turning to David. He looked a bit blurry, in keeping with the rest of the room.
‘What about me?’
‘Would you shag Twinkletoes over there, given the opportunity?’
‘No thanks. It would be like having sex with a teacher or an auntie. Not good, in other words.’
‘We had one or two teachers I wouldn’t have minded shagging,’ said Gary. ‘And I have a nice auntie, too.’
‘You are one sick fuck,’ said Nicola. ‘Really. Although, our art teacher Mr Thompson was a bit of all right, wouldn’t have minded getting him into the art cupboard once upon a time.’
‘Gary, which fucking auntie are you talking about?’ said David. ‘I’ve met your Aunt Kate, and if it’s her you’re talking about you really are a sick fuck.’
Gary just smiled. David shook his head then turned to