There was no sign of the resident plod lurking outside so we washed up back at the Holy Wall. Mac had a pint of Guinness ready and waiting for me on the bar. I knocked the head off it quick smart. Soothed like an old friendship. Felt like medicine.
The white poodle played on the floor with Usual. Hod laughed. ‘Christ, it’s a hard dog that you’ve got, lads — mates with a poodle.’
Mac went off, ‘Get that dog down to the fucking pound. It’s someone’s pet — they’ll be looking for it!’ He pointed Hod to the door, puffed his chest. ‘And get a fucking shave, ye gypo!’
Not biting, Hod moved off. ‘I was only joking. I’m going. I’m gone already.’
Mac walked behind the bar, picked up a bag of KP nuts, raised another bag for me. I declined. As he munched away he let his thoughts escape. ‘Well, that sounded like it was all a complete fucking farce.’
‘How do you gather that?’ I said.
‘They got away.’
‘Ah but…’ I got out of my stool, reached over for a bottle of Haig, poured out a wee goldie, downed it.
Mac grew impatient. ‘But what?’
‘We got a direct hit on the car… and I caught sight of a very cosy scene that will take some looking into.’
‘What?’
‘Sid the Snake and Jonny Johnstone sharing a motor.’
A head-shake, rapid eye movement, a swallow. ‘I’m gonna stretch that wee cunt’s neck.’
I raised my pint, pointed a finger. ‘Hold that thought.’
I left Mac in the bar, went out to the hallway to make a phone call. My mind was on one thing, and one thing only. In the midst of such an overwhelming crisis, I couldn’t believe I was focusing on this.
By the back door sat a cardboard box. Inside were old pictures of my father in his playing days. By the look of it, old Scottish Division One. I remembered a row with the Wall’s original proprietor, Col, about these very pictures. He’d taken them down so as not to offend me. As I looked at them now, I wished he’d thrown them out altogether. I laid a kick into the side of the box, heard a loud crack from the glass.
‘The fucking last I want to see of you.’
I dialled up Debs’s number.
Ringing.
An answer: ‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Debs, it’s-’
‘I know who it is.’
Well, that was something. ‘Are you all right now?’
‘Gus, I’m always all right.’
I knew what she meant: there is all right and there is well — the two aren’t the same thing.
‘I wondered if you were still, y’know…’
‘Gus, you don’t need to worry about me.’
‘Debs, c’mon, you were in bits when I saw you. I don’t stop caring just because you’re out of sight. You know that.’
Silence.
The gap on the line stretched out.
‘Debs… Debs, you still there?’
I heard her begin to cry down the line. ‘Gus, I’m sorry… I just can’t play the hard bitch any more.’
‘You were never that, ever.’
Sobs. ‘I just feel like it’s all getting to me now.’
‘What, Debs, the baby thing?’
‘Gus, it was a fucking abortion — can’t you say the word?’
I could say it; I just didn’t want to. And moreover, I knew she didn’t want to hear it. ‘Stop it, Debs. Just stop torturing yourself.’
‘Why? Have you got the monopoly on that?’
‘No, I-’
‘Gus, why did you call?’
Why did I call? I wondered that myself. Did I want to help her? Was I being selfish? ‘I don’t know.’
‘Neither do I, Gus… This is all pointless. You know we’re not going to get back together, don’t you?’
I felt wounded. I had no hopes of us getting back, no real ones anyway. But to hear her say this cut deep. ‘Of course not, Debs… I only wanted to… Christ, do I need a fucking appointment now to check on you?’
Silence again.
‘Debs. Debs.’
‘I’m going to go now, Gus.’
‘What have I said?’
‘Nothing. Nothing. I’m just going to go.’
‘Debs, just tell me you’re okay.’
I heard her voice start to quiver; her words struggled to get out. Tears, more this time. ‘I told him, Gus.’
So Jonny knew. I wanted to ask how much he knew. ‘You told him everything?’
‘I told him why I can’t have children, Gus.’
Debs’s voice came clouded in sobs. I wanted to be there for her now, put an arm around her, tell her it was all going to be okay. Tell her it was better out in the open. Any old cliche, just to make her feel better.
‘You did the right thing, Debs.’
She yelled down the phone, ‘No, Gus, I didn’t! I never do the right thing. Never. I never do that.’
‘What do you mean, Debs? What do you mean?’
‘I can’t save you this time, Gus… I just can’t.’
I didn’t understand. ‘I’m not with you…’
‘Gus, I’m not able to… I just can’t do it. I don’t know what you expect me to do. Jonny isn’t in my control, you know.’
This was out of left field. ‘Debs, I don’t want you to do anything for me.’ I didn’t want her to put herself in any danger; I’d go down for Moosey’s murder before that happened. I couldn’t believe I’d given her any other impression. ‘Debs, I only want you to be happy. I’m sorry if I-Debs, Debs…’
She’d hung up on me.