The Lock-In, page 4
‘Y’awright, pal?’
Ah hear the voice, it’s right fucking in front ay ays and ah should be oot the bed and chibbing some cunt but aw ah dae is pit doon the Ibrox towel and open ma een.
‘Holy Christ!’
‘No quite, son.’
He’s standing there and ah can’t quite believe it. He’s taller, much taller than ah thought. Thirs a yellae glow aroond eys heid and toap tae toe eys dressed in white. First oaf ah’m thinking this cannae be right, dressed in white – like an England kit!
‘Is it you? … Is it really you?’
Ey smiles, that wide cheesy smirk ay his that ye ken right away cos ye’ve seen it oan the Scotsport a million times.
‘Davie … Davie Cooper.’
‘In a manner ay speaking, son … aye.’
‘But, Davie … yer deid.’
That’s when ey steps forrit and opens oot eys airms and ah get the shock ay ma life as these two big white wings flutter oot ay his back.
‘Whit the fuck!’
He brings eys hauns thegither and thirs this look oan eys coupon that seys cool the beans so ah’m aw owir that likesay.
‘Dinnae worry aboot ma wings, son …’
‘But how? … Ah mean …’ Ah ken ah’m no making onnie sense.
‘Ye ken ah wis aye guid oan the wings, son … well the Big Man just gied ays thaim a wee bit early, ken.’
He flapped the wings aboot and there wis a wee shower ay feathers; wan ay them settled oan the toap ay the bed and ah reached oot tae pick it up. It felt saft, like cottonwool or puppies. Sumthin soft, likes.
‘But, Davie … ah just …’ Ah want tae get oot the bed, tae pit ma airms roond him and tell him ah love him. Ah want tae thank him fir aw they goals, fir aw eys genius runs doon the wing and fir aw they times ey made a cunt ootay the opposition at the Tennents’ Sixes. Ah’ve totally forgiven him fir Motherwell. Totally.
He raises a haun tae silence me. ‘Right, first things first … ah need tae make sure ah’m in the right hoose!’ He rolls eys eyes like eys searching fir sumthing in eys heid, or maybe dain some kinday communication wi Heaven ah dinnae ken aboot. ‘Okay, son … whit’s yer handle?’
‘My name is Joe.’
‘Joe … brammer,’ ey gauns. ‘Goat tae check these things oot … and whit dae ye dae fir a living, Joe?’
‘Ah’m a joiner … best joiner in the toon, aye um ah.’
The Wing Wizard’s at the eye rolling again and it looks like eys testing the answer ah’ve just gied him. Ey soon snaps oot it mind you and eys back tae pointing at eys again.
‘Now, Joe the joiner, ah need tae ken … whit’s it ye cry the lassie yer winching?’
Ah feels ma ain eyes stert tae thin noo, ah mean, whit’s ey aw aboot? ‘You been deeking ma burd?’
Davie smirks. ‘Settle, eh Joe. Ah’m an ethereal being, ah’ve goat access aw areas, y’think ah’m goanay be taking a swatch at the west-coast muff when ah can be owir in Hollywood sniffing aroond the likes ay Angelina and Halle Berry n’aw that … stroll on, pal.’
Ah huvtae concede ey has a point. ‘Name ay the game, suppose.’
‘Name ay the game indeed, son … now, this burd ay yours, whit’s she cried?’
‘Mary-doll … she’s a Queenie lassie, you wouldnae like her onieweys.’
Ey flaps eys wings at that. ‘Oh no, dinnae be thinking we have they silly wee divisive grudges up the stair, son … thirs nae room fir freends oan the park doon here, as the Law man said, but up thaire we’re aw wan.’ Ey pits eys fit oan the bed, and ah see eys in sandals; ah’m a wee bit surprised it’s no Adidas Predator bits. ‘Ah’ve been kent tae go fir a pint wi …’ ey lowirs eys voice n looks tae the side, ‘Tommy Burns.’
‘Get away …’
‘Naw, gen up, son … Tommy’s a toap boey up thaire by the way. Still a gingir mind you, but ye cannae huv it aw, even in Heaven.’
‘Holy Christ …’
‘Whit ye keep bringing him intae it fir?’ Davie pits doon eys fit and turns away fae me. Ey sterts tae pace aboot the room as he sprafs awa, ‘Right, ah’m content ah’ve goat the right gadgie here … yer Joe the joiner and yer winching wee Mary-doll the Queenie lassie who should be oan her wey back fae her Chrissy night oot ony meenit. Thirs just the wan last question ah’ve goat tae ask you, son. Now, it’s kindae a personal question, but if ye let ays feenish you’ll understand ah’m no being wide.’
‘Fair enough …’
Davie pits eys hauns thegither and lowers eys voice. ‘Joe, son, have you been gien a length tae Mary-doll?’
Ah feel ma hert sterting up again. Ah dinnae want tae admit this tae anybody, least ay aw the legend that is Davie Cooper but ah find maself dropping ma voice. ‘Naw, ah huvnae …’
‘Come again?’ ey goes.
Ah looks up, ‘She’s a pape, likesay. Wants a ring oan the finger … aw that’s ootay bounds the noo.’
Davie looks relieved. ‘Well that’s guid tae hear. Glad thirs still a few lassies doon here that ken how tae keep their haun oan thir tuppence.’
Ey straightens eys back and ah catch a deck ay the wee bit ay a paunch eys eyewis carried, didnae haud him back oan the baw mind you and gaun by the nick ay him noo it’s no hauding him back in the other place. It’s some sight tae see the Wing Wizard in ma room, a huvtae concede, even if ah’m mair than a wee bit scoobied. Davie’s scratching eys heid, yon goldie halo thing getting rummilt aboot oan the toap thaire as he turns tae face ays n makes wan ay thay wee glancing nods ey used tae stoke the back ay the net wi.
‘Yer probably wondering whit this is aw aboot, son, and ah wis just coming roond tae that.’ He takes two steps towards me. ‘Y’see the man up the toap kens aw this sectarianism has tae stoap, folk need tae get a wee bit mair like yerself and Mary-doll … ken, the twa sides ay the divide coming thegither.’
Ah stert tae nod, ah see where eys coming fae, but ah’m a wee bit concerned how uncomfortable Davie sterts tae look. He takes a wee deck at ays and sterts tae shuffle eys feet. Ah’m no expecting whit comes next, mind you: ‘Dae ye ken whit ah mean by insemination, son?’
‘Whit?’
‘Naw, never mind …’ Ey scratches eys chin, getting even mair uncomfortable. ‘See your wee Mary-doll, she’s a right special lassie, y’ken that …’
‘Aye, she’s a toap burd, nae danger.’
‘Naw, Joe, ah’m no making maself clear here …’ Ey rolls eys eyes up to the ceiling and grits eys teeth like eys having a separate conversation wi somebody else at the same time then returns eys gaze tae me. ‘Mary-doll wis selected …’
Ma mind’s still aw fitbaw. ‘Like a cap, y’mean?’
‘Naw son.’ Ey shakes eys heid. ‘If she’d hud a cap we might no be in this bother …’
Davie comes and settles himself down oan the edge ay the bed. Eys staring right intae ma face as he speaks, ah can feel the warm glow aff the toap ay eys heid and it’s like a ray ay pure love. Pure love for the man and eys genius.
‘Yer burd’s been selected by God … she’s going tae gie birth tae the saviour.’
‘Y’whit ..?’
Davie drops eys bomb and bolts up aff the bed. ‘Right, come oan, there it is. We’ve goat tae boost noo …’
Ah’m beyond scoobied but. Ah ken ah’ve heard the words, they went in likes, but it’s like they huvnae registered or sumthin. ‘Hud oan, can ye back-up there a wee minute?’
Davie’s up n aboot, pacing the room again. ‘Come oan, nae time tae waste, son … there’s a wean oan the wey, a proper important wean and you’ve goat tae get that lassie ay yours tae the chosen land.’
This cannae be right. ‘But ah jist saw Mary-doll a couple ay ooirs ago and she wisnae up the fucking peg!’
‘Aye, ah ken … but she is noo.’ Ey spreads eys airms and eys wings again. ‘Yer gonnae be a faither, kindae, is that no gemmie?’
‘Naw, naw … it’s pretty fucking far fae gemmie, mate.’ Ah feels ma back straightning like ah’m goanie lamp this cunt, name ay the game. Ah jump oot the bed and ah square up tae him and ah cannae quite believe it. Me, Joe the joiner fae the Lochside flats, is pitting the bead oan the great legend that is the Rangers Wing Wizard Davie Cooper!
‘Joe, son, ah ken this is aw a bit ay a shock …’
‘A shock … ah’ll fucking shock ye, y’cunt.’ Ah tries tae sink the heid but they big wings just flap oot behind him and Davie’s taking a couple ay yards ay air. Ma heid lunges forward and drags ays doon tae the flair.
‘Come oan, Joe … be sensible.’
Ah looks up and eys wings are still flapping, then a foot wi a sandal oan settles down tae the cairpet. Ah’ve taken a guid wallop tae the konk and thirs a wee bit ay a nosebleed stertin.
‘You’ve burst ma fucking beak, y’cunt …’
‘Sorry, son … want ays tae pit a key doon yer back?’
‘A fucking key … is that the best ye can dae, a man in your position?’
Davie tilts eys heid. ‘Aye right enough … forget ah’ve goat these powers hauf the time.’
Ey waves eys haun and the blood shoots back up ma nose. Twa invisible hauns lift ays back oantae ma feet. Ma heid’s still spinning wi the news aboot Mary-doll but ah feel a great sadness growing inside ays for having had a swipe at Davie.
‘Sorry, ah didnae mean tae …’
Ey cuts in, ‘Dinnae worry aboot it. Ye’ve hud a wee shock. It’s understandable.’
Ah smiles at him, ‘You’ve still goat the skills ah see, ah didnae get near ye!’
‘Aye, oh aye … well, the wings are a help. Didnae huv them when ah wis playing mind you, would ay been guid fir stepping oot ay Roy Aitken’s sliding tackles.’
We stert tae laugh and Davie pits eys haun oan ma shoulder. ‘Right, son, you’ve goat a big night ahead ay ye, and we’ve nae time tae waste, so let’s get stertit.’
When the Wing Wizard shoots the craw ah’m left aw alane, sitting oan the edge ay the bed thinking: fuck tae fuck. Ah’m aboot ready tae boost maself when ah hear Mary-doll scratching the lock, trying tae get her key in. Ah ken she’s likely fowir-sheets after heyin a guid bucket but ah dinnae expect tae hear her ralphing-up oan the doorstep. Ah go intae the hall and unlatch the lock.
‘The fuckin kip ay you!’
Ah cannae see her face, only a share ay her arse hanging oot the toap ay her jeans and the big tramp-stamp wi the skulls and the roses is staring back at ays as she loups oot another mouthfa ay sick.
‘Dinnae, Joe … ah’m no fit fir it.’
‘Ah’ll tell ye whit yer fit fir … fuck aw!’ Ah say the words but the realisation that this bloater is aboot tae droap a wean immediately smacks ays as something ah should be worrying aboot.
‘Ah want ma bed!’ she goes.
‘Well, you can forget that …’ Ah steps over her pavement pizza and takes a look up at the sky. There’s supposed to be a star fir us tae follay, but as ah squint and stare ah cannae see a thing.
Mary-doll’s rolling oantae her back, gasping for air and clutching at her guts. ‘Ah feel fucking shite.’
That’s when ah spot the swell in her stomach. Mair than usual even, ah mean, ah ken she needs tae lay aff the KFC bargain buckets and even though ah’ve always agreed the bigger the cushion the better the pushing, this is a bit ay an eye-opener.
‘Aye well, you know why that is?’
She looks up at ays wi slow-blinking een and a wee drool ay sick tripping aff the end ay her chin and that’s when ah realise this is gonnae take some explaining.
‘Right, Mary-doll, you need tae get yer heid roond sumthin.’
Ah sit doon oan the step beside her and reveal everything that Davie Cooper telt ays; she’s still swaying and drooling and all that and ah don’t think she’s buying intae it for wan meenit until she tells ays tae ‘shut it’ and clambers tae her feet.
‘Look, Joe … look at the sky!’
Ah stands up and goes to follay her. She’s got her finger pointed up at a collection ay stars, ‘The constellation, that’s whit Davie called it,’ ah says.
It’s a familiar shape.
‘Ah ken that face …’
She’s no joking.
‘Are you seeing whit ah’m seeing, Mary-doll?’
‘Aye … ah cannae believe it but that’s definitely …’
Ah steps in and answers for her. ‘It’s Danny McGrain wi eys teeth oot!’
As ah say the words a bright light sterts tae glow right in the middle ay Danny’s mooth and it’s as if he’s hocked up a guid yin, but it’s this huge bright light that fills the sky and heads straight towards us, getting bigger and bigger.
‘Jesus, Joe …’
‘It’s awright. Nae need tae worry, Mary-doll … ah’m telling you this is just like Davie said.’
The bright light covers the pair ay us in this warm glow. It’s a nice feeling, like the feeling ay love Davie brought intae the flat earlier oan.
‘Feel that, Joe,’ goes Mary-doll and that’s when ah notice she’s sterted tae stroke the round ay her belly. ‘Come oan, we need tae follay it …’
‘Aye … yer right.’
The light loses some ay its shine and that’s when we can see that it’s actually a wee star – it could pass fir wan ay Danny’s teeth noo; if the cunt had ony teeth, likesay. The star sterts to move, slowly at first, and then sets oaf in the direction ay the A77. Ah think fir a meenit, hing oan, we better no be gaun tae Killie – ah mean, c’mon – but then it veers aff tae the left a wee bit mair and we’re follayin the path aw the wey doon the broad main street.
We gie the star a guid fifteen minutes, up and doon streets, left n right – it’s like we’re follayin oor noses oan the sniff fir a wee bit ay a perty or sumthin, only there’s nae signs ay any festivities at aw. The place is shocking quiet, like the whole world’s asleep or waiting, waiting maybes fir the birth ay the king that Davie was oan aboot.
‘Shhh,’ goes Mary-doll. She holds up her haun and we stoap in the street.
‘Whit is it?’
‘Ah can hear movement.’
She’s no wrang either, there’s a rustling sound – like wind blawing over fallen leaves or sumthin – and then this wee hedge at the side ay an open field parts.
‘Oh, hello there,’ goes this jakey bastard in an Aiberdeen toap.
Ah watches him climb over the wee fence and ah’m looking over the field tae see there’s nae sheep been assaulted – ah mean, ye cannae be too sure wi these Aiberdeen cunts.
‘What you after?’ ah goes.
He looks back tae the field and there’s another two blokes wi him emerging: wan in a Celtic toap and wan in a Motherwell shirt. They look like three gadgies that have just lost their way.
The Aiberdeen gadgie speaks first: ‘No after fuck aw, mate, we’re here tae offer the benefit ay oor wisdom’…’
Ah sterts ta laugh. ‘Three wise cunts, eh …’
‘Aye, something like that.’ Aiberdeen points up tae the sky. ‘We follayed that … wis spat ootay Danny McGrain’s coupon!’
Ah disnae let oan ah ken whit eys oan aboot. ‘And whit ye daen here, then?’
‘We’ve come far, come bearing wisdom … and gifts!’
Ah lets the wisdom bit slide again but Mary-doll – typical lassie – perks up at the mention ay gifts.
‘Whit gifts?’ she goes.
‘Well, we aw ken aboot the bairn.’ Ey smiles. ‘So afore ah left ah had a wee parlez wi the boys aff the boats and picked you up something.’ He delves intae his poakit and pulls oot a wee penny-sized item wrapped in clingy. Ey smiles again. ‘It’s Gold Leaf … guid stuff, likesay. Ah thought ye’d appreciate a wee smoke efter the bairn’s born, ken.’
Mary-doll snatches the block ay puff aff him and stuffs it in her jeans. At that point, Celtic steps forrit.
‘And ah brought you this …’ He holds up a book, it’s a biography ay Frank McAvennie. ‘Ye cannae go wrang wi Frankie’s sense … the man’s wit and wisdom will dae ye a power ay guid in faitherhood, son … nuthin he disnae ken aboot the burds n the bees!’
Ah takes the book and that’s when ah see Mary-doll rolling her een up tae the heavens.
Motherwell’s a wee bit less sure ay himself but he’s oot the trap and handing ays a wee envelope.
‘Whit’s this?’ ah goes.
‘Mur’well … a season ticket.’
‘Whit!?’ ah goes. ‘Ah’m a Gers a man and she’s oan the Hoops!’
Ey points eys’ finger. ‘Exactly! Cannae huv that kinday conflict in a relationship … ye needs tae find the third-way, ken, common ground likesay!’
‘And that’s fuckin Mur’well is it?’
Ey shrugs. ‘Goat tae remember, it wis Davie’s choice ay club … once.’
If this is the wisdom oan offer ah’m tempted tae tell them tae shove it, name ay the game. Ah can tell Mary-doll’s goat the same impression as she sterts tae leg it aff efter the star again. It’s stertit moving towards the aulder hooses oan the scheme, the wans maist folk huv given up oan. The wans that are aw boarded up wi cooncil curtains.
Ah can see that Mary-doll’s getting a wee bit tired looking so ah steps ower the wee fence intae a gairdin full ay kid’s toys and pilfers a Big Wheel.
‘Here, get yer arse in that!’ ah goes.
‘You’re joking ays …’
‘Naw, serious, come oan … ah’ll gie ye a burl!’
‘Ah’ll no fit in it …’
‘Sure ye will, ye just need tae pit yer feet ower the handle bars and I’ll push ye … come oan, think aboot the wean, Mary-doll … think aboot the wean.’
‘And the wean’s gaunnae be a king nawtae …’ gauns Mur’well.
Ah’m nodding and agreeing wi the cunt but only cos ay whit Davie Cooper said tae ays earlier. ‘Aye, ah heard that … king likesay.’
Mary-doll’s near drappin’ aff as she settles herself oantae the Big Wheel. Ah ken they’re fir weans and ah ken she’s a big lassie but ah’m a wee bit shocked tae see her erse cheeks munching the wee plastic seat – the erse oan it pure smothers the wee seat like it’s being enveloped by wan ay yon sea-creatures. The seat’s nae mair than a wee sprat being swallayed by the fucking Portuguese man ay war that’s stretching and shivering ontae the ground. Ah cannae look cos it just sets ays in mind ay that Buster Gonad cunt ootay Viz, aw that’s missing is the spikey wee hairs ay the bawsack. Ah’m ready tae hurl, ah swear tae fuck ah um.
