Filth

Still Carole

When I make up my eyes, I always feel a stirring through my body. I think it’s because it’s true what they say about the eyes being the gateway to the soul. And my soul is a very sexual one. You cannot deny your nature. Bruce taught me that. At times like this I am moved to touch myself . . . I love the feel of this silk blouse against my skin.

I love

My head swoons. It’s as if Bruce were here with me.

Soon.

It’s time to go out. I’m just going out Mum.

Tell Stacey I won’t be late.

Bye.

The bar is large, ideal for people-watching. There are lots of little nooks and crannies to hide in.

Sitting here, alone here, I’m remembering when I first met Bruce’s parents. They were good people, from a mining village in Midlothian. This was before they were corrupted by that Scargill, who split up families and turned everyone against each other. Bruce doesn’t bear any grudges though, even though they were cruel to him and rejected him, their own son. That’s what these people want though: to split up the family. It’s not important to them but the way I see it, if you haven’t got family then you haven’t got anything. Bruce does too. It’s so unfortunate that Stacey’s said those horrible things, but we don’t blame our little girl, all children go through a phase when they tell silly wee lies. In Stacey’s case I think it’s been the wrong crowd she’s been hanging around with at that school.

Anyway, I must say that I look a treat and I know by the way that the guy behind the bar’s staring at me that he feels the same way too. Well, you can look but don’t touch my friend! I’ve got on my heels, that silk blouse and my pleated skirt. I catch myself in the mirror. Not bad Carole. Not bad.

I know what they’re thinking; a woman drinking on her own. They think I’m a prostitute or that I’m easy. All I’m doing is confronting them with their own desire. That’s what they cannot take.

They want me.

All those men, they all want Carole Robertson.

But there is only one man who can have me, although if he wants me to give myself to another man, I will, but only for him. He won’t want me to give myself to any man in this bar.

I have made my point lads, and now I depart, to see my daughter. I am a good mother and a good wife.

All eyes are on me as I leave the bar. I have made my point.

Outside my vision is blurred. All the shop signs and advertising seem as if they’re written in a foreign language. I don’t feel safe here. I must go to where I feel safe.