Garnethill

Chapter 12

They had never seen Liam so angry. The police had raided his house. He had been lying in bed with Maggie when they kicked the front door in and four officers stormed upstairs into the bedroom and found them naked, covered with a sheet. They pulled the sheet away, made them get out of bed, watching as they dressed, and took Liam downstairs.

Because of Maureen's timely warning there was nothing incriminating for the police to find, but they had brought tracker dogs with them and found the scent everywhere. They gutted the house, pulling up floorboards and digging up bits of the garden. Liam said the house was un-fucking-inhabitable; it looked like 25 Cromwell Street.

Maggie sobbed hysterically for half an hour and then phoned her mum in Newton Mearns, begging her to come and fetch her. Until this point her mother had believed that Liam was a music-business entrepreneur. Maggie didn't mention the police on the phone, her mum thought they'd had a fight. Good mother that she was, she dropped what she was doing and drove all the way across town to get Maggie. Nearing the house she saw the police cars and, good citizen that she was, pulled over, asking them what it was about and could she help. They told her. She took her daughter home and forbade her to see Liam again.

"They can't trash my fucking house and just leave it like that," said Liam aggressively. He turned on Benny. "Can I sue them for compensation?"

"There must be some way," said Benny, trying to placate him, "given that you didn't commit a crime, but I can't think what it would be."

"Those fuckers can just rip my house apart and walk away? That's fucking outrageous."

"Why don't you write to your MEP?" said Maureen, trying to lighten the prickly atmosphere.

"That's not fucking funny!" shouted Liam.

"Don't shout at me!" shouted Maureen. "It's not my fault."

"Well, if you hadn't-" Liam realized how bad he was being and corrected himself. "I won't be able to work for ages."

"I have to tell you," said Benny authoritatively, "it'd be stupid for you to deal now." He said that because the police had found the scent everywhere, they would be back time and time again until they caught him out. Even if he moved house they'd still be on his back. "I wouldn't even pass a spliff at a party now if I were you."

Liam dropped onto the settee and covered his face with his hands. "Jesus Christ," he said, his voice muffled, "what the fuck am I going to do now?"

Maureen sat down beside him. "Come on, now," she said. "You're a bright guy, you've got loads of capital in the house and you've saved some money, haven't you?"

"A bit."

"It's a big bit, isn't it?"

He shrugged. "S'pose."

"Well, we'll think of something."

"Shite, I've got a big deal coming off next week as well."

"Don't do it, Liam, eh?" Maureen pleaded.

"That would be really stupid," said Benny.

Liam shook his head. "If Joe McEwan and that mob hear about it I'll be completely fucked."

"But they didn't find anything in the house," said Maureen.

Benny and Liam glanced sidelong at each other. "That's fuck all to do with it, Maureen," said Liam. "If they find out I'm dealing there's no way they'll believe that Douglas's murder had nothing to do with me. The police think all professional criminals are capable of anything."

"Oh," said Maureen. "Sorry, I didn't think."

"You even thought it was me."

"I didn't think it was you, I just thought you might know something about it."

"God," he said. "You're a stupid cow sometimes."

"There's no need for name-calling," said Maureen.

Her comment struck Liam as profoundly funny. He laughed and kissed the top of her head. "You're precious," he said warmly.

He got Maureen to phone for him. When Maggie's mum answered she asked for Maggie and handed the receiver to Liam when she came on the line. He took the phone out to the hall and shut the door. Benny caught her eye and made a panicked face. Maureen stood up. "I know, I know," she mouthed.

She kept her eye on the door and snuck over to him. "Mr. Mood Swing, eh? How long's he been here?" she whispered.

"About an hour," Benny whispered back. "He was going mental when he first got here. I had to calm him-"

They could hear him ringing off. Maureen darted back to the settee. Liam came back into the living room and slammed the phone down on the side table. He looked furious. "She's gutted," he said. "She told her mother she'd smoked hash once and now she thinks Maggie's a drug-soaked gangster's moll."

Benny was puzzled. "Why did she tell her mother that?"

"Because she asked," said Liam with a superior air. "And Maggie's family don't lie to each other all the time."

"My God," said Benny. "They must hate each other."

Maureen offered to make Liam a cup of tea but he refused it, saying if he wanted a fucking cup of fucking tea he'd make it his fucking self.

"It'll be okay," she said.

"Stop fucking saying that!" shouted Liam.

"I've only said it once!" Maureen shouted back.

Benny gave her a look. She wasn't good at defusing Liam's temper, she always ended up shouting back at him. Benny said he was welcome to sleep on his floor for a while, until the house was fixed up. Liam flatly refused. Benny said he was going out for some milk anyway and slammed the front door behind him.

"You've pissed him off now," Maureen said.

Liam didn't reply but he sat down next to her on the settee. It was as close to an apology as she would get. "Did you see the picture in the paper yesterday?" she said.

"Yeah," said Liam, "I saw ye." It wasn't me.

Liam looked worried. "Aye, it was," he said. "You were in the ticket booth and everything, Mauri."

"Did you buy it and get a good look?"

"Well, naw, I wouldn't give them my money."

"It wasn't a picture of me, it was a photo of Liz."

Liam shifted uncomfortably and avoided her eye. She stomped across the room to her rucksack and pulled out the folded front page of the newspaper. She opened it out and handed it to Liam, sat down and watched him as he examined the picture. "Is that me?" she said.

Liam handed it back to her. "It's not you."

"Yeah, and I'm not responsible for you getting busted either. I want that one nipped in the bud."

"I know that. I'm sorry, pet, I was angry."

"Everyone I meet thinks I did it," she said.

"Everyone I meet thinks I did it," said Liam. "It's like being at school again."

"Yeah, we're a pair of wrong 'uns."

They looked at each other. Liam reached out solemnly and took her hand in his. "I'm gonnae go about saying you did it and put myself in the clear."

Maureen laughed and Liam grinned back.

"Do me a favor." She held up the newspaper. "Look at this picture again and tell me, if you didn't know me all that well, could you mistake Liz for me?"

Liam glanced at it. "No. I thought it was you because of the booth."

"Liz doesn't look like me?"

"No. Her hair's the same length as yours but that's about it."

She folded the picture away and slipped it back into her bag. "How's Mum?"

Liam's face wilted with a despondency familiar from childhood.

"You don't want to know, Mauri."

Benny opened the front door and stepped into the hall. Leslie was standing behind him. She looked into the living room and saw Maureen and Liam sitting close by one another on the settee. "All right, Mauri?" she said, skipping past Benny into the living room. "You're in the paper."

"What, again?"

"Yeah."

Leslie had the Evening Tribune. The headline picture was of Maureen on holiday in Millport. Liam and Leslie had taken her there just a month after she got out of hospital. The weather was sunny and they had hired tricycles for the day. Maureen was standing next to hers wearing cutoff shorts, a "Never Mind the Bollocks" T-shirt and shades. She was grinning. The picture was grotesquely inappropriate next to Douglas's murder story. She looked very different in the picture, her hair was long and straggly, she had dyed it darker since then, and she was painfully thin: she hadn't been able to swallow comfortably when she was ill.

She avoided looking at the photos from that time because they reminded her so sharply of the aftermath of the breakdown, when she had had to keep smiling and telling people she was all right, when she struggled to assimilate all the things that had happened to her in the recent and the distant past. She had left the bundle of holiday photographs facedown in a box at Winnie's house.

"Who gave it to them?" asked Leslie.

"My mad cunt of a mother."

"Oh, okay," said Leslie, arching an eyebrow at the carpet.

"You look a bit less tired," said Maureen, trying to get off the subject.

"Yeah, I got a sleep last night."

Liam took the paper from Leslie and excused himself.

Maureen grinned up at Leslie and Leslie grinned back. "You ready to talk to me now?" asked Leslie.

"I am, pal. How'd the appeal go?"

"Bad." She frowned, put her crash helmet down on the settee and took off her leather jacket. "They won't make their decision until next week but I think we're fucked. I talked to the CAB lawyer and we've missed out loads of stuff."

Liam came back and threw the newspaper down on the coffee table. He dropped heavily onto the settee and waited for someone to acknowledge his dirty mood. Leslie caught Maureen's eye.

"I could do with a shower," said Maureen, and stood up.

"I'll make ye a cup of tea," said Leslie innocently. "D'ye want one, Liam?"

"Huh." He snorted. "Actually, no. Tea happens to be the last thing on my mind at the moment."

MAUREEN WAS STANDING UNDER the shower, washing the shampoo out of her hair, when she felt a familiar shiver. The ghost of her father was in the bathroom. She was very small and was standing in the bath, waiting to get out. He bent down and put his face level to hers. She rinsed her hair quickly and opened her eyes but he was still there with her, she could almost smell him. She turned on the cold water and stood underneath it, sweating. Change the ending, Angus had told her. Change the ending. Keeping her eyes on her father, she reached purposefully into the bath water and pulled out a sawed-off shotgun. She aimed it at him and squeezed the trigger. His head blew off. His blood was all over the bathroom. Just like Douglas.

"You look fucking terrible," said Leslie, as Maureen came into the living room.

"Yeah."

"Benny and Liam have gone out for a pint, fancy it?"

"Liam's being a prick. Have you got your bike with you?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Can we go to yours? I want to get away from him."

Leslie gave her the spare crash helmet from the carrier box and Maureen climbed onto the pillion, wrapping her arms around her friend's waist, and nuzzled her face into her shoulder. Leslie sat back a little as she kick-started the bike, pressing into Maureen, letting her know she was all right. The cold rain nibbled Maureen's legs numb as they rode to the northern outskirts of the city, to the Drum, the scheme where Leslie lived.

As they hit the lip of the hill overlooking the scheme a sudden burst of sunshine from the west lit the rain as it fell. In the deep valley below, the high-rise blocks stood like giants paddling in a shallow sea of bungalows.