him out of the pit. I could never understand why he lived his life by someone else’s rules. You know . . . why he worked so hard for fuck-all except to make rich private coal companies richer. Then I worked it out. Everything’s fucked up. The whole world is totally absurd and filled with people doing things the way they’ve always been done, just because it’s the way they’ve always been done. It was only after he died that I worked out that my da dedicated himself to what he did because he was trying to make some kind of sense of his life.’
‘But you’re not.’
‘No, I’m not. That’s why prison never bothered me: it’s just another place, just another room you’re in. Except prison makes more sense than the outside world. I’m a thief: I steal things and if I get caught I get punished for it. There’s nothing absurd about that. But the truth is that everyone is a thief. Everyone steals from everyone else and the whole system is run by the best thieves of them all – the ones who steal power and opportunity from you. Steal your life. You want to know the difference between prison and the outside world? The people you meet in prison are more fucking honest. If you knew—’
It was there again: something bigger, something more immediate and specific behind his anger, a brief shadow on the threshold. Tommy decided against sharing it and the fire in his eyes dulled.
‘And you’re the same as me, Lennox,’ he said. ‘People like us see things the way they really are because we’ve had the shite knocked out of us. We both see that everything is chaos and crap and we just go along for the ride. Play the game without playing it, if you know what I mean. Make the most of it.’
‘And what does your sister make of it? You said she has brains too.’
Tommy smiled. ‘Jennifer? Aye, she’s got brains too. But she’s well out of Glasgow. I used my earnings to send her to college in England. She’s got a good job in London. Nobody tells our Jennifer what to do, she’s her own woman. If there’s one thing I’m proud of, it’s that I got her the hell out of Glasgow. She has a life. A future.’
‘What about you, Tommy?’ I asked. ‘Do you think you’ll ever settle down? Get married? Have kids?’
‘Never. I’d never bring a child into this evil, fucked-up world. You don’t grow out of childhood here, you survive it. Or some bastard rips it away from you.’ Tommy gave an awkward laugh, embarrassed at his own sudden vehemence. He took another drink. ‘Sorry. I like kids. I just think they get the shite end of the stick.’
*
We drifted back into discussion about the foundry job and it was agreed that we’d do it a week Sunday night, when there would be the least chance of there being anyone around. In the meantime Tommy would survey the site and draw up his plans. All I had to do was act as a driver and lookout, Tommy providing the vehicle. Given the profit I was going to make, I readily agreed. After we had finished, Tommy offered me a couch for the night, but my ribs protested that they needed the comfort of my own bed and I drove home.
I had an allocated space in the parking lot outside the apartment. When I parked, I sat for a moment with the car’s engine switched off, checking parked cars for silhouettes or the tell-tale red glow of a cigarette tip, then searching the shadows between the pools of pale light from the lamps in the car park and the bushes that fringed it. As I got out and crossed to the building entrance, I kept checking the three a.m. darkness for lurking goons. No one jumped me and when I got into my flat, everything was in order.
I’d already begun to stiffen up and any movement of my arms seemed to send a jolt through my ribcage, making getting out of Tommy’s loaned suit a slow, cautious process. I swallowed some aspirin and swilled my mouth with water to cleanse it of the sour taste of Scotch and violence.
Easing myself into bed, I closed my eyes and tried
‘But you’re not.’
‘No, I’m not. That’s why prison never bothered me: it’s just another place, just another room you’re in. Except prison makes more sense than the outside world. I’m a thief: I steal things and if I get caught I get punished for it. There’s nothing absurd about that. But the truth is that everyone is a thief. Everyone steals from everyone else and the whole system is run by the best thieves of them all – the ones who steal power and opportunity from you. Steal your life. You want to know the difference between prison and the outside world? The people you meet in prison are more fucking honest. If you knew—’
It was there again: something bigger, something more immediate and specific behind his anger, a brief shadow on the threshold. Tommy decided against sharing it and the fire in his eyes dulled.
‘And you’re the same as me, Lennox,’ he said. ‘People like us see things the way they really are because we’ve had the shite knocked out of us. We both see that everything is chaos and crap and we just go along for the ride. Play the game without playing it, if you know what I mean. Make the most of it.’
‘And what does your sister make of it? You said she has brains too.’
Tommy smiled. ‘Jennifer? Aye, she’s got brains too. But she’s well out of Glasgow. I used my earnings to send her to college in England. She’s got a good job in London. Nobody tells our Jennifer what to do, she’s her own woman. If there’s one thing I’m proud of, it’s that I got her the hell out of Glasgow. She has a life. A future.’
‘What about you, Tommy?’ I asked. ‘Do you think you’ll ever settle down? Get married? Have kids?’
‘Never. I’d never bring a child into this evil, fucked-up world. You don’t grow out of childhood here, you survive it. Or some bastard rips it away from you.’ Tommy gave an awkward laugh, embarrassed at his own sudden vehemence. He took another drink. ‘Sorry. I like kids. I just think they get the shite end of the stick.’
*
We drifted back into discussion about the foundry job and it was agreed that we’d do it a week Sunday night, when there would be the least chance of there being anyone around. In the meantime Tommy would survey the site and draw up his plans. All I had to do was act as a driver and lookout, Tommy providing the vehicle. Given the profit I was going to make, I readily agreed. After we had finished, Tommy offered me a couch for the night, but my ribs protested that they needed the comfort of my own bed and I drove home.
I had an allocated space in the parking lot outside the apartment. When I parked, I sat for a moment with the car’s engine switched off, checking parked cars for silhouettes or the tell-tale red glow of a cigarette tip, then searching the shadows between the pools of pale light from the lamps in the car park and the bushes that fringed it. As I got out and crossed to the building entrance, I kept checking the three a.m. darkness for lurking goons. No one jumped me and when I got into my flat, everything was in order.
I’d already begun to stiffen up and any movement of my arms seemed to send a jolt through my ribcage, making getting out of Tommy’s loaned suit a slow, cautious process. I swallowed some aspirin and swilled my mouth with water to cleanse it of the sour taste of Scotch and violence.
Easing myself into bed, I closed my eyes and tried
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