Filth (29 page)

– Fuck me harder Bruce! Fuck me harder! Chrissie’s imploring.

Fuck every one of youse . . .

There’s Stacey’s school picture on the sideboard. I can’t look at it, I wish I’d turned it away, or put it in the drawer. She’s watching us . . .

Stacey’s watching me and this cow . . .

. . . this isnae . . .

I’m a good man . . . she said it . . . the woman, his wife . . . I tried to pump the life back into the boy . . .

Pump

Like I’m pumping this bitch . . .

Pump

– Oh Bruce . . . c’mon . . . oh . . . oh . . . oh God . . . oh . . . oh . . . oh . . . ooohhhhh . . .

And I’m still pumping, but the mair ye gie this hoor, the mair she takes. I’m really fucking well trying and it’s a relief when that horrendous shriek fills the air to signal that she’s getting there and I feel the belt slacken from my neck and I twist my hips deftly and start to fire my own spunk home.

– Fuck sakes Chrissie . . . I gasp as my ejaculations fade like the pulse of a dying man and my gyrations settle to motionlessness.

I collapse on to her, roll off and we doze for a while. I wake up first and inspect the damage.

The blood vessels in my eyelids have ruptured and there’s a thick mark on my neck. I’m a professional law enforcement officer. I have to deal with the public. I can’t go around looking like this because of that selfish bitch. No with a promotion board coming up.

– That was great, she says, stretching languidly before getting getting up and getting dressed. – Listen Bruce . . . she says as she moves fluently into her underwear then her skirt and blouse, – I know we need to talk about what kind of commitment we want to make to each other, but I don’t see that there’s a need to rush things.

– I think that’s quite sensible, I say. She’s looking smart. Put on a bit of weight, had her hair tinted. There’s more confidence and grace in her movements.

– I mean, I don’t think that coming out of a relationship straight into another is something that’s very sensible, she smiles, tossing her blonde hair back and tugging a brush through it. Let’s just keep it on this basis until we find out what our real feelings are.

– I couldn’t agree more. We should look before we leap, I tell her. She’s worth a poke alright. – Why don’t you stick about for a bit, have some nosh and we’ll maybe have a bit more fun later on? I move across to the sideboard and put Stacey’s picture in the top drawer.

– I’d love to Brucey, but I’ve got somebody to see.

– Oh, I say.

– See you later Brucey baby, she swings her bag over her shoulder. She turns back to me and kisses my forehead and winks and then says in an American accent, – Glad we’re parking in the same lot honey, then she’s oot the fuckin door.

Right. . .

Gone.

Fuckin

Thinks that she can just go like that after trying to fuck up my promotion. Who the suffering fuck does
she
think she is? She’d never replace Carole! She’s never the one!

A ten-a-penny polisman’s fuck, that’s aw she is!

She’s left her lipstick. Her red, red lipstick.

More Carole

I have to admit it, leaving Australia was a mistake. Bruce and I were at our happiest there. It was just that we went out to be with my mum and when my dad died she wanted to come back. There seemed no point in staying over there because Stacey was just a baby and she hadn’t started school. I know that I was selfish and that I didn’t really think of Bruce’s career. He was doing so well in the Sydney police. I think it’s diabolical that he had to return to Scotland on a lower grade than the one he was on in Australia.

I’m looking forward to seeing Bruce again, so we’ll be back together as a family; me, Bruce and our little girl Stacey. She has to accept the wrong she’s done and the hurt she’s caused everyone with her silly little lies. I often feel guilty, I feel that I should have taught her better, taught her the difference between right and wrong. She’s a good girl really though and it’s important for her to know that Bruce and I forgive her.

All families go through these kind of traumas and it’s important not to make more of these things than is necessary. It’s a complicated world enough to grow up in these days.

I am back in the bar again. Two men are looking at me. One says something that I don’t catch, but the hostility is unmistakable.

Why is it that a woman cannot drink alone?

You want me but you can’t have me.

Robertson’s my name.

I took the name of my man.

I am his.

If he was here now, he’d silence you, your leering, sneering faces. You would never be able to stand up to my Bruce. You’re not men.

Private Lessons

Worms. I’m not happy. I’ve been reading more about them at the library. There’s a tidy bird works there as well. When I get bored looking at the books, I look at her. I’ve been here most of the morning, after another sleepless night. But it’s soon time to relocate to the office, as Saturday means big-time OT. Predictably, it’s mobbed out. Lennox is in as well. We agree to shuffle some papers for an hour, then head out.

It’s great to be cruising around in the motor. I’m well wrapped up and the roads are clearer. Lennox is obviously uncomfortable, shivering away in an inappropriate suede jacket.

– Dressed for the weather, eh Ray, I snigger.

– Fuckin plain-clathes allowance is rank, he grumbles.

Moaning cunt. If he didnae spend aw his money oan designer labels, he might make the allowance run tae some practical gear. Thinks that the taxpayer’s nowt better tae dae than tae fund that fucker tae prance about on an imaginary catwalk while he pretends that he’s polis.

As our trip progresses, it becomes abundantly clear that Lennox is keeping his cards close to his chest. The thing is, we are aware of that. Lennox is second division. He is not aware of that. There is a set of rules which apply and those are rules that the likes of Ray Lennox could only ever have a rudimentary knowledge of, whereas the Bruce Robertsons of this world, we are moving off on a different tangent.

We kid you not.

– Maybe call in at the Fish Factory, eh Ray?

– Okay, Lennox says.

I turn off Junction Street into Ferry Road. – Shirley, we muse, – ma sister-in-law. Mind the time we both rode her?

– Aye, says Lennox uneasily.

Mr Top Shagger Lennox, huh! Thon daft wee laddie couldnae satisfy that piece. Exposed as an inadequate. She’s sucking me off and Lennox puts it in her from behind and she’s backing intae him and after a bit she’s gaun, – Change ends . . . Bruce . . .

The Fish Factory is our name for a Leith brothel which operates as a sauna, or is it a Leith sauna which operates as a brothel? No matter. Auld Maisie, the most experienced madam in the city is in, and the kettle’s oan.

We pit the squeeze oan Maisie that often the ex-hoor can hardly be chuffed tae see us, but a good hoor (and Maisie was one of the best) is always a superb actress so we get the red carpet treatment. That’s the beauty aboot being polis: it doesnae really matter whether or not everybody hates you, as long as they’re civil tae your face and can put up a good front. You can only live in the world you ken. The rest is just wishful thinking or paranoia. – Bruce darlin, Maisie states (correctly), wi a wee peck on the cheek for yours truly.

– So Maisie. How goes it? I enquire, flopping back on to the couch and putting my arms around the back of my head. I get a whiff from my armpits and almost lower them in panic. Fuck it. Let the cunts smell Bruce Robertson. Maisie doesnae register. A hoor must learn to live with unpleasant smells. She’s kicking oan now Maisie, but she’s still a looker; in a heavy, print-dress matronly sort ay wey.

– No bad Bruce, no bad. We’ve a new lassie sterted; a wee lassie fae Aberdeen. Ye want tae check her oot?

– Later maybe Maisie, I smile, with a broad wink.

She looks up at Lennox, – Mibbee yir young pal here might?

Lennox gets a flush roond his eyes. He smiles stoically.

I catch this and turn to him. – Tell ye what Ray, Maisie here, she’d teach ye things thit yir ma couldnae. Forgotten mair thin you’re ever likely tae learn. Ah keep tryin tae entice her back oot ay retirement, but she’s havin nane ay it.

Maisie’s laughing and shaking her heid as Ray continues to look uncomfortable. I lean forward and pull out a pen from my top pocket and start tapping with it on the glass-topped table. – Even for a fresh young piece ay meat like Detective Sergeant Raymond Lennox here Maisie?

She gives Ray, who now seems in excruciating pain, a quick once over. – Sorry sweethert, ah jist dae it fir love now, no fir money. Ah leave that tae the youngsters. Ah’m a one-man wimmin these days.

– Ray here’s gittin himself a bit ay a reputation oan the force as a stud, I smile, puckering my lips and poking the pen languidly in and out of the ball I’ve made of my fist.

– Aw aye? Maisie leers.

That puts our Mister Lennox in his place. And I’m not finished yet. – Aw aye, so if yir ever coaxed oot ay retirement, this is your man: definitely. They tell me he’s the best.

Maisie kens that she might have to do business with the up and coming boys on the force like Ray Lennox, so it serves no purpose to humiliate him. She moves from the particular to the general, in an obvious attempt to spare Lennox’s blushes. – Tell ye what Bruce, Maisie says with an air of confidentiality, – if ye could measure aw the inches ay cock ah’ve hud in the line ay business, n pit thum aw the gither, ye’d be reaching tae the moon n back!

Of course I’m well wide for this game and I’m fucked if that spastic Lennox is squirming off the hook until I’m ready for him to do so. – Well Maisie, if ye wanted tae get yir lips around the sweetest piece ay prime Scotch beef, I kiss my fingertips and shut my eyes in an exquisite gesture, then thumb over at Ray, – D.S. Lennox here is yir man.

– As ah say Bruce, those days are over for me, but if they wernae, wi this fine lookin laddie here, well, it’d be mixin business wi pleasure, ah kin tell ye. She licks her lips at Lennox, who’s looking like his fuckin soul has just imploded.

Aye Lennox, you’ll ken. To save his further embarrassment Maisie goes off on a story concerning one of our city fathers. – Thir wis one Lord Provost, this wis wey before your time son, Maisie nods at Ray, then turns tae me. – You’ll mind ay him Bruce?

– Oh yes . . . by reputation alone though Maisie. Ah’m no that auld!

– Ah didnae mean it like that, yir jist a laddie bichrist, she smiles with those cat’s-erse lips, the moisture having been sucked from those just as sure as they’ve sucked out the semen of millions of punters from here and overseas. – Naw I’m talking aboot Provost . . . well, it wid be improper tae mention names. Bit this Provost was well known amongst the local girls for wanting tae conduct his liaisons wearing the ceremonial robes and chains of the City of Edinburgh.

– Rumour had it, I interject, – that he couldnae get it up otherwise.

– That’s true Bruce son, and take that as comin fae the horse’s mooth. Eh telt ays himself, he said: Maisie, ma wife disnae understand me. She disnae like me wearing the robes around the house. The thing is Bruce, Raymond, she wouldnae let him dae it with her wearin these robes. But you know how the Provost looked: an awfay indistinguished wee man. Naebody recognised him oot ay the gowns, the man’s whole identity and sense ay power came fae they robes. One day the administration at the Provost’s office sent the gowns away tae be cleaned. The Provost had tae conduct his duties in his suit and tie. The thing was, that every Thursday night the perr wee man had booked in doon here fir a wee session wi a couple ay the lassies. The Provost was nervous aboot having tae perform withoot his ceremonial robes, so he had a few nippy sweeties fir Dutch courage.

– As one does, I smirk.

– Well, Maisie continues, taking my hint and refilling my glass, – the Provost got really drunk. When he came doon here he took oaf aw his clathes and refused tae leave or pit them back oan until he had his robes. He was screaming: I am the Lord Provost of the City of Edinburgh and I will shut down this foul house of debauchery! Ye could hear him right acroas Leith! The only thing that would satisfy the Provost was the return of his robes. Now they were in Pullars of Perth, the South Side branch, who at the time were drycleaners to the Provost’s office. We had the number of the Provost’s chief political ally, the chairman of the housing department. He got oantae the Chief Coonstable who did a deal wi Alec Connolly whae wis in police custody at the time, oan a drunk n disorderly charge.