Marabou Stork Nightmares (21 page)

I was standing in the corner shaking, wondering what the fuck ah wis daein here, as Ozzy had her next, then Dempsey, by which time she'd almost blacked out. When Dempsey was on, someone tried to come into the room. They knocked persistently. Ozzy clicked the door open and stuck his head round it. — Fuck off! Private perty! he snapped.

— Wir gaun roond tae Murray's. He's goat decks, ken, a guy called Nezzo said.

— We'll catch yis up, Ozzy said, locking the door.

Dempsey eventually came, — Phoah ya fucker, he grunted, before pulling out.

— Nice n lubricated fir ye Strangy, Ozzy smiled.

— Ah'm fucked if ah'm gaun in thair eftir youse cunts . . . I shuddered, trying to keep it light. There wasn't a condom in sight.

— Nae cunt shites oot, Lexo growled. I unzipped my flies.

Ozzy pouted disdainfully at her vagina. — Like a fuckin soapy sponge in thair man, ah'm tellin ye.

I lay on her. I couldn't have got hard anyway, but I lay on her and faked it, thrusting rhythmically.

— Ah dinnae think the earth exactly moved for it thair, Strangy, Dempsey laughed, as I gave a weak grunt and levered myself off her.

— Last ay the rid-hoat lovers right enough, Lexo said scornfully.

I thought we had finished, but her ordeal was only beginning. Lexo wanted to take advantage of the fact that everyone had left the party. — Watch her, he commanded, then vanished. He returned from the back green with a length of clothesline which he rigged up, with a noose on the end, to the large parallel beams in the living-room. The room was strewn with empty beer cans and bottles, overflowing ashtrays and empty record sleeves and cassette-tape boxes. Lexo came back into the bedroom and tied her hands crudely but firmly behind her back and marched her through the empty flat to the living-room. He had her stand on a stool, almost on her tiptoes, with the rope round her neck. He stuck a large ball of cottonwool in her mouth and taped over it with masking tape.

— If she faws ower n hangs, we're fucked! This is ma flat! Dempsey said.

— Fuck it, said Lexo. — If it faws n chokes, wi jist take it doon the coast n dump it. He rubbed his hands together, — Let's hit that all-night chemist's n git some KY. Ah'm itchin tae gie it one up the erse. Its fanny's been well-fucked enough. Will git a couple ay beers at the club first, eh. Thirsty fuckin work this!

He moved over to her and stood on his tiptoes and kissed her chin. — You're ours now, ya sow. Then he put on a theatrical American accent, — Don't go away baby, the boys'll be back!

We just left her there. Ozzy drove us up to the West End and Lexo procured the KY from the chemist. We then drove down to our club at Powderhall. It was a snooker club and it had shut ages ago, but we had a key and Ozzy put oan the jukey while Demps set up some Becks. — Cheers, boys!

Her trussed up like that back at the flat. Choking on the gag, struggling to draw breath. Fearful of even trying to move. Not knowing when we'd be back, whether we'd be back. I wanted this drink over quickly. I wanted to save her.

— Tae slags that huv tae fuckin learn lessons! Ozzy proposed a toast.

— Slags, we nodded in unison, clanking our bottles together. How did she feel bound up like that, the noose around her neck? Our spunk trickling down her bare legs?

I was shiting myself that something had happened to her. Demps was too; it was his flat. Lexo and Ozzy didnae seem tae gie a fuck. Lexo picked up on my anxiety.

— Dinnae go aw fuckin poofy oan ays, Strangy. It's an education fir the sow. Be the makin ay it.

— Ye dinnae ken that though ... it might fuck her up . . . she might never be able tae go wi a guy again like.

He looked at me with withering scorn. — The only fuckin reason it'll no be able tae dae it again is cause it's hud the best n the rest jist dinnae fuckin measure up.

Lexo wanted to stay for another drink, but we talked him into heading back. He hit his motor and drove across the city towards Dempsey's gaff. Lexo stopped the car before we were there though.

— Eh . . . I said weakly. What was he doing?

She had died. She had fallen over and died. We'd killed her. I knew it. She would just give up, let herself hang. Why fight it? I knew she was dead.

— C'moan, Lexo! What's the score! Demps moaned.

Lexo pointed to a group of drunks who were sitting on a park bench in the deserted night street. They were drinking tins of strong lager. — Goat tae say hiya, eh.

— Eh? Moan tae fuck! I gasped.

— Nice tae be nice, Lexo said, exiting from the car. Ozzy started to go as well.

We were in no mood for this, no me and Dempsey anywey, but we got out of the motor eftir them, reasoning that it would be easier to try to cajole the cunts back in. We approached the winos who looked cautiously at us.

There were two guys and a woman. One of the boys was bulky and big with curly silver hair, but surprisingly gentle, furtive eyes. The other one was a guy who I realised was a lot younger than I'd thought. His face was discoloured with the drink and the weather, as well as a lot of scars and scabs. His hair was thick and dark. He had that slightly bewildered look a lot of drunks who've not had quite enough to send them away seem to wear.

I wanted back to her. Maybe she'd got free, maybe some cunt heard her. The polis . . .

— Awright gents, Lexo said and, turning to the woman, smiled,

— and ladies n aw.

The woman wisnae that auld either. She was thin and pale and probably in her early thirties. She had short greasy-brown hair, but her clothes looked in quite good condition, and she didn't seem dirty.

They gave us some cagey greetings.

Ozzy looked at the woman, — What's your name, doll?

— Yvonne, she said.

— She's awright that yin, the aulder guy smiled, raising his can at us.

— Bet you're a good ride, eh Yvonne, Ozzy asked, winking at her.

The auld guy wrinkled his eyes and puckered his lips, sucking in air, and smiled at me. — Coorse, he grinned. I liked this auld cunt. I had a desire to protect him from the boys.

— Mibbe git Yvonne here back tae oor wee party, eh Lexo. Git some lesbo stuff set up. Ever fucked another bird, Yvonne? Eh? Ozzy asked.

Yvonne said nothing, she just sat on the bench, between the two guys. The auld guy turned away.

— Leave ur, Ozzy, Demps said.

— See if ye wir tae fuck another lassie bit, Yvonne, jist sayin likes; ah mean ah'm no saying that ye wid or nowt like that, but jist sayin if ye wir, jist supposin, eh: wid ye yaze yir fingers or tongue? Ozzy asked, pushing his index finger into his fist and flicking his tongue in and out of his mouth.

The lassie hunched her shoulders up and stared at the ground.

— Fuck off, Ozzy! C'moan! Lit's go! Demps shouted.

I wanted to see her. I needed to see her. We had to go back.

— Mibbe just git a wee kiss bit, eh Yvonne? Ozzy asked. He bent towards her. She turned away, but he kept turning with her and she finally stopped moving her head and allowed him to kiss her on the mouth. Lexo made whooping noises. The other guy had handed him his Carlsberg Special can, which he was now drinking out of.

— That wisnae sae bad, eh? Ozzy said. —Jist like New Year. Wi aw kiss strangers at New Year, in the street n that, up the Tron. Nice tae be nice. . . what aboot a wee flash ay the tit then, Yvonne? Fir the boys!

— Fuck off, Ozzy! I said.

— Shut up, Strangy, he laughed, — ah'm jist giein Yvonne a bit ay a choice. A wee flash ay the tit or she comes back tae the perty wi us. What's it tae be, Yvonne?

The woman pathetically undid some buttons on her blouse and quickly pulled out a breast before covering it again. Ozzy laughed. Lexo looked away in disgust.

Then Yvonne sprung to her feet. It was only then I realised what had happened. Lexo had punched the youngish guy, his huge fist making a bone-crunching sound as it connected with the boy's head. He stood smiling at the gadge, keeping his arms stiff and punching the air jerkily in front of the guy's head. The boy put his hand to his face; he was shaking with pain and fear in the seat. I wanted the daft cunt to stand up and run, or take a swing at Lexo. I wanted him tae dae something, no just sit thair like a fuckin sheep. The auld guy looked away and closed his eyes.

— Nivir saw that one mate, eh no, Lexo laughed. — Too much bevvy. Makin ye slow. Bet ye could've been a contender at one time n aw, eh?

This stupid cunt keeps his hand in front of his face but actually forces a wretched smile at Lexo. Lexo playfully short-jabs the right hand into his guard; — This one . . . this one . . . he says, then he smacks the boy's face with his other hand, — naw, it's that one . . . he laughs, shaking his left. — That one again . . . his left fist again makes contact with a sickening crunch. Then it's the right one.

I'm watching this and I'm ready to put the boot into this cunt on the park bench for being so fuckin stupid and just taking this undignified punishment; just to put him oot his fucking misery quickly. I want to go. I want to see her. The guy's got his head wrapped up in his hands now. Lexo's lost interest. He's watching Ozzy who's necking with the woman Yvonne. I'm shrugging at the auld jakey guy who's looking frightened. I'm trying to send a vibe out that it's okay, that nae cunt's gaunny bother him.

Lexo goes over to him and pulls out his wallet. He crushes a fiver into the jakey cunt's hand. — A drink fir yir mate the morn, eh. Anaesthetic, he smiles.

— Ah wis a coppersmith tae trade. Rosyth, the auld guy says tae him, taking the money.

— Goat the hands fir it, mate. Strong hands, Lexo smiled.

— The Ministry of Defence. The Civil Service it used tae be, he said.

— Ye ken Benny Porteous? I asked.

— Aye . . . ah ken Benny! The auld guy's eyes lit up.

— That's ma Uncle. He wis a coppersmith at Rosyth.

— Ah worked wi Benny for years! Alec, that's me. Eck Lawson. Mind me tae yir Uncle. What's he daein? Whair's he workin?

— No daein nowt. Jist playing the gee-gees, eh.

— Sounds like um! Mind me tae um! Eck Lawson!

— Nae bother, Eck, I said. I wanted to go.

— Moan youse, Lexo snapped and we got back into the car. — What wir you daein wi that auld hound, ya filty cunt? he laughed at Ozzy.

— Could've taken it back, eh. See how the slag liked a jakey boot lickin her oot, Ozzy smiled.

I could see the possibilities racing round in Lexo's head. — Naw, he said. — Discipline's whit's fuckin needed. Gits a wee bit too complicated, polis n that.

— That wis fuckin daft!
They
could've goat the polis. Panel that wino . . . what the fuck d'ye call that? Demps snarled.

We got in the car. We were going back to her. Please let her be alive.

— They'll no git the fuckin polis, ya daft cunt, Ozzy scoffed. Lexo turned round, his large smile beaming at us. — That wis a jist a wee bit ay foreplay. Git us aw in the mood fir the slag's erse, eh!

I looked at Demps's tense face where we sat together in the back of the car. His mouth was twisted and I could hear his teeth grind but I couldn't see his eyes for his long fringe. We got back to his flat about an hour after our departure.

I was terrified as we mounted the stairs, shit-scared in case she'd tried to struggle free and hung herself.

I was fuckin shaking. I looked at Demps. He looked away.

Ozzy opened the kitchen door. She was there. For a second she was so still it looked as if she had cowped over. I was about to scream as an overwhelming wave of fear washed over me but she turned her head to us, her eyes pleading and panicked. She was still alive.

We got her down, but instead of taking her back through to the bedroom, Lexo lugged the mattress through and stuck it oan the flair. — Better through here, eh, he smiled, — We'll be able tae watch they cartoons oan that breakfast telly while we gie it the message.

Ah didnae take drugs but Lexo and Ozzy did an ecky and the three ay them took a couple ay lines ay speed each, and we just kept her with us, having her over and over again. I managed one more pretend thrust, but the rest were up her all night. Dempsey and Lexo were up her cunt and arse at the same time, their balls pushed together. — Ah kin feel your cock, Lexo, Demps gasped.

— Aye, ah kin feel yours n aw, Lexo said.

Dempsey had put on a tape of Hibs goals on the video and we watched George McCluskey smash home a beauty against Dunfermline. — A fuckin cracker fi Beastie thair . . . Lexo growled as he blurted his load into her rectum for the umpteenth time that night. When we got bored fucking her in different ways we'd put on a video or some sounds. We watched the film Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2, which Demps had on video.

In the morning, we made her take a couple of showers and steep in the bath, supervising her washing herself thoroughly. She was so compliant, looked so destroyed and wretched, that I felt it would've been better if we'd topped her. She crossed her legs and kept her arms over her chest, like one of the female prisoners in concentration camp films. Her body, which had always looked so good, so lithe, athletic and curvy as she danced in her tight and flimsy clothes, now looked broken and bent, twisted and scrawny.

I realised what we had done, what we had taken. Her beauty was little to do with her looks, the physical attractiveness of her. It was to do with the way she moved, the way she carried herself. It was her confidence, her pride, her vivacity, her lack of fear, her attitude. It was something even more fundamental and less superficial than those things. It was her self, or her sense of it.

We had no right. We didnae realise . . . ah didnae think . . . Get away. Get away from this for a bit. Get

DEEPER

DEEPER

DEEPER– – – – – –deeper soas I can see Sandy Jamieson, who is now sitting outside our tent on the forested slope which rises in tiers from the lake.

— Ever thought of what you're going to do when all this is over, Sandy old man?

— I think I'll probably end up doing more of the same. I'd like to stay in the game in some capacity ... I mean, I can't see me pulling pints in a pub. I'd miss the cameradcrie of the whole thing . . . oh, it's more than just sharing the bath with a group of other naked men . . . is anything wrong, Roy?