man; how come Iâm always the guilty party: fuck sake. Hines smiled. He got the lid off the tin to roll a smoke; he swallowed some whisky. Sandra was pulling her coat across her shoulders. Hines swallowed the rest of the whisky. He finished rolling the cigarette and lighted it. Anyway, he said, thatâs us . . . He had stood up.
What?
Youâre joking? said Colin.
Fucking babysitter man, couldnt get an allnighter.
But Iâve bought in the carry-out, said McCulloch. Christ sake Rab, and sheâs got all the sandwiches done I mean . . . all waiting.
Hines shook his head. Naw, the woman we were supposed to be getting let us down at the last minute; had to make do with a neighbour, and sheâll no stay later than 11.
I know the feeling, said Donnie.
Ah thatâs a bastard, said McCulloch.
Sandra was standing, pausing to say something to Isobel; and when she started walking Hines said, Right, see yous later. He followed her out from the lounge. On the pavement he waved to halt a taxi, held the door open for her and before getting in beside her he gave the driver the address.
They gazed out opposite windows.
He walked up the stairs behind her, passed her just prior to reaching the second-storey landing, and unlocked the door. In the kitchen he fixed a kettle of water for tea. She had gone straight into the front room. He switched on the gas-fire and used the light to get his cigarette burning. When she came in he went ben the front room to take off his suit.
He was standing at the sink, whistling quietly, gazing through the slats in the blind; in the backcourt opposite the rear of the tenement building which was not yet demolished, the sky with that reddish glow, light reflecting on the ripples of the enormous puddle that stretched from the middens to the mouth of the back close; a smell of smouldering rubbish from somewhere, but vague.
The television had been switched on by Sandra; a late film was scheduled.
When the tea had infused he poured the two cupfuls; he carried hers over, laying it on the floor next to her armchair. Back at the cabinet he lifted his own to his lips but once the steam met his lips he lowered the cup then emptied it into the sink and ran the tap to clear the tea down the drain. Iâm just going to bed, he muttered.
His hands and head came out of the blankets. And he was breathing in gasps, his eyelids parted quite widely. At first he gaped in the direction of the sink then resting his head on the pillow he stared at the ceiling. Sandra was on her side, facinginto the recess wall, her breathing scarcely audible. He turned and moved to press the front of his body against her; and he laid his forehead at her hair, his right forearm across her hip. But an instant later he had reverted to the old position; then he shifted even further from her, to the edge of the bed, from where he began to study the rubbish bin and its surrounding area. Eventually he was on his back and staring at the ceiling again, his left arm outside the blankets and his right arm beneath them. He remained still. Then his left leg was moving towards Sandra. When it touched he brought it back. And then he slid out of bed altogether, he had an erection, he went to the lavatory. On his return he noted the time on the alarm clock. Across at the sink he gulped water straight from the tap, he went back to bed afterwards.
Along the footbridge he stopped to chip the dowp of the cigarette over into the river. He peered down. Not too far off was a bend in the river, the driftwood flowing towards him, passing below; he went to the other side to watch it reappear. Pools of rainwater on the flat rail where his forearms rested, the wind rustled the higher branches of the trees. On the opposite bank the grass also being rustled on the steep slope up to the street, a kind of shimmer. He struck a match but the flame didnt burn for long. The sound of wheels needing to be oiled. A high-pram, being pushed by a girl maybe as
What?
Youâre joking? said Colin.
Fucking babysitter man, couldnt get an allnighter.
But Iâve bought in the carry-out, said McCulloch. Christ sake Rab, and sheâs got all the sandwiches done I mean . . . all waiting.
Hines shook his head. Naw, the woman we were supposed to be getting let us down at the last minute; had to make do with a neighbour, and sheâll no stay later than 11.
I know the feeling, said Donnie.
Ah thatâs a bastard, said McCulloch.
Sandra was standing, pausing to say something to Isobel; and when she started walking Hines said, Right, see yous later. He followed her out from the lounge. On the pavement he waved to halt a taxi, held the door open for her and before getting in beside her he gave the driver the address.
They gazed out opposite windows.
He walked up the stairs behind her, passed her just prior to reaching the second-storey landing, and unlocked the door. In the kitchen he fixed a kettle of water for tea. She had gone straight into the front room. He switched on the gas-fire and used the light to get his cigarette burning. When she came in he went ben the front room to take off his suit.
He was standing at the sink, whistling quietly, gazing through the slats in the blind; in the backcourt opposite the rear of the tenement building which was not yet demolished, the sky with that reddish glow, light reflecting on the ripples of the enormous puddle that stretched from the middens to the mouth of the back close; a smell of smouldering rubbish from somewhere, but vague.
The television had been switched on by Sandra; a late film was scheduled.
When the tea had infused he poured the two cupfuls; he carried hers over, laying it on the floor next to her armchair. Back at the cabinet he lifted his own to his lips but once the steam met his lips he lowered the cup then emptied it into the sink and ran the tap to clear the tea down the drain. Iâm just going to bed, he muttered.
His hands and head came out of the blankets. And he was breathing in gasps, his eyelids parted quite widely. At first he gaped in the direction of the sink then resting his head on the pillow he stared at the ceiling. Sandra was on her side, facinginto the recess wall, her breathing scarcely audible. He turned and moved to press the front of his body against her; and he laid his forehead at her hair, his right forearm across her hip. But an instant later he had reverted to the old position; then he shifted even further from her, to the edge of the bed, from where he began to study the rubbish bin and its surrounding area. Eventually he was on his back and staring at the ceiling again, his left arm outside the blankets and his right arm beneath them. He remained still. Then his left leg was moving towards Sandra. When it touched he brought it back. And then he slid out of bed altogether, he had an erection, he went to the lavatory. On his return he noted the time on the alarm clock. Across at the sink he gulped water straight from the tap, he went back to bed afterwards.
Along the footbridge he stopped to chip the dowp of the cigarette over into the river. He peered down. Not too far off was a bend in the river, the driftwood flowing towards him, passing below; he went to the other side to watch it reappear. Pools of rainwater on the flat rail where his forearms rested, the wind rustled the higher branches of the trees. On the opposite bank the grass also being rustled on the steep slope up to the street, a kind of shimmer. He struck a match but the flame didnt burn for long. The sound of wheels needing to be oiled. A high-pram, being pushed by a girl maybe as
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