The Burn

it’s the ins and outs

While she was telling the yarn she kept her eyes away from me, just pausing now and then, her head to one side, trying to work out if I was still listening. Of course I was still listening. But she was beginning to annoy me. It was to do with her humility, not really humility, something else, a kind of Uriah Heep deceit maybe; I felt like she didnt rate me. I listened because I had no real option. Duty called and I was having to be polite. It was the occasion of my first cousin’s wedding and our two sides of the family were supposed to be close. I concentrated hard. She had lines all round her eyes and she was squinting. What the fuck was it? Something about Uncle Boabby and my da. I stood looking at her. I should have taken ice in the cherry brandy. It was a habit I was trying to get into. The ice freshened you up. An old guy in the pub told me that once. He wasnt wrong.

But what the hell was she rabbiting on about? Da was sitting just across the room from us. It was crowded but I could see him, him and the brother, the two of them, having a quiet blether.

And Uncle Boabby; it was strange to think she knew Uncle Boabby at all let alone what she seemed to be implying — carnal improprieties. The last I heard he was somewhere on the west coast of Ireland, and that was years ago. He had been quite an exciting figure for me as a boy and this wee woman wasnt. She looked wizened as well. But Uncle Boabby and his wife used to be continually fighting and splitting up and then getting back together again and then starting to fight again and all that sort of predictable stuff so maybe at a time where they had fallen out and were away from each other this wee woman had appeared on the scene or else it was a time they had got back together again and here it was I was meeting an illicit affair of a former hero. Big deal. Then the da. But who knows with him, he’s aye been a dark horse.

I stepped to the window and looked down at the row of cars on the street below. I was needing to get away from here, fucking claustrophobic, family everywhere, it was doing my nut in, I just needed a couple of minutes peace, a breathing space. I felt like going for a big pint of lager — all that cherry brandy man it gives you a drouth, but there was fuck all else to drink, it was as if they were trying to stop the men getting pished, the women, as if they had set it up, in case of trouble, they had planked the fucking whisky and vodka. And they were carrying the bacardi about with them in their fucking handbags. Predictable shit.

The wee woman was watching me.

Maybe I had misunderstood the gist of what she was telling me, maybe I was reading the signals all wrong. I’m famous for that. All these interconnected relationships of the older generation. You never know what they were up to. You listen to them talk and you can never make any sense of it. Useless wondering further. I saw her lifting a cigarette from a packet on the mantelpiece and I hoped the packet belonged to somebody else. In this company that was death although if she was just a gatecrasher then all would be explained. But imagine gatecrashing a wedding like this. Different if it was the type of event you get in other countries and people enjoy themselves, a carnival atmosphere and so on, Brazil or someplace, the Samba, women doing their dances in all-revealing blouses, Ah Chicita, but no this kind of one, pouring rain outside, everybody getting wet from the run up the steps into the fucking close: one of the wee nieces doing her bridesmaid had crashed into a fucking puddle on the way.

The wee woman was looking at me. She came over and started talking. I told her to keep her voice down in case some of the family heard. What she was saying was definitely suspect. No two ways about it. Maybe she was involved with the DSS, just here checking up on the precise whereabouts of certain parties for some sort of future reference, a new legislation maybe. There was a black stone in a brooch round her neck. Probably if you stared at it too long you got mesmerised. Or else it had a microcosmic tape recorder charged inside. Naw, I said, I dont stay with my parents, we’ve got our own place, me and the wife. We’re married as well, know what I mean, it isni a cohabitation deal.

She nodded.

Just in case you’re interested.

I’m not.

Good.

She tugged on the cuff of my suit sleeve. I brushed her hand off. I just want to tell you, she said, your mother’s never liked me.

Ach that’s nonsense.

It’s true.

I looked at her.

It is.

Naw it’s no.

She never passed on Bobby’s messages.

How do you know she got messages?

Oh I know.

How could ye if ye didni get them?

Hh. She smiled.

Maybe my Uncle Boabby didni send ye any. I know for a fact he’s a bad letter writer. Ask anybody.

Tch, dont be so stupid.

I dont like being called stupid.

Well ye’re saying things you know nothing about.

So what?

She tugged on my sleeve again: Sssh. .

So what? I whispered.

It interferes with people’s lives.

You’re the one that’s interfering hen. This is a family occasion.

Ye’ve got no right to speak to me like that.

Look I dont even know ye and ye’re telling me all this gossip.

It’s no gossip.

Aye it is; that’s exactly what it is.

It’s factual information.

I sighed.

You dont know anything.

What ye talking about?

She smiled and turned away, staring across at where my Uncle Dan was sitting with one of his auld cronies; the new bridegroom was there as well. The wee woman had started her whispering again: I tried to have a word with your father but he looked right through me.

Are ye sure ye’ve got the right family?

What’s that supposed to mean?

Just what I say.

What do ye say. .?

I gave her a look. The way she spoke was really beginning to annoy me. And she wasni even looking at me. She was actually staring at my brother now, I mean just staring at him, as if she was seeing him for the first time — dont tell me he was bloody involved! The woman was out of order. She carried on talking some sort of rubbish to do with wartime situations. What fucking war was she talking about? Then she finished up saying: You’re too young anyway so ye are: you wont understand.

I’m a bloody married man missis.

Hh. She glanced sideways, shaking her head.

Look, I said, the maw’s ben the kitchen, go and have a word with her. She’ll fill ye in.

We dont communicate.

Is that right. Aye well there’s no point dumping it all on me, I’m no her first lieutenant. This sort of crap, personal gossip and aw that, I dont understand the ins and outs — thank Christ. If ye have got a grievance she’s the lady, her herself, go and see her.

The wee woman turned to squint about the room.

She’s no in here I’m telling ye she’s ben the kitchen, holding court with the female team. Away through.

Maybe I will.

Good.

Maybe I’ll just do that.

Aye well on ye go.

Maybe that’s just what I’ll do.

Good.

And then we’ll see.

I sipped at the cherry brandy, looking across at the brother and my da, kidding on I hadnt heard the last bit. Behind them I could see my grannie in a corner, sitting on the usual stool; she refused comfortable chairs at all costs, scared she could never climb out them again. A wee niece stood next to her, whispering into her ear. One of the brother’s lassies. I wish to Christ I could just have went for a pint. No wonder Uncle Boabby had fucked off to Ireland.

The wee woman started again: Yer mother just wouldnt want to hear what I’ve been saying to ye.

What are ye saying to me? I mean I dont bloody know what ye’re saying to me.

Yes ye do.

Naw I dont.

Ye do so.

Look I dont. It’s all nudges and winks.

People should see what’s under their nose.

Exactly. I swallowed the last of the brandy and wanted another. This kind of rubbish drove ye to drink. Where was the wife? Fucking hell, she was being chatted up yet again. I glimpsed her through the throng. A guy with Grecian 2000 hair, dwarfing her. I knew the bastard. Big Tojo. Kidding on he was having to really stoop as well, so’s he could see down the cleavage. Fucking dress she was wearing, I told her no to wear it. When she stood sideways ye could see everything, it was bloody disgraceful.

The wee woman said something else which I didni hear. I said yes to keep her happy but the nod she gave me was like I’d confirmed her suspicions. Maybe I had put my foot in something. I stepped to where the drink was lying and replenished the tumbler; I took another quick look at her while I was pouring: about five foot nothing in height. When ye come to think about it but, the clothes she was wearing, they looked reasonably smart. They did. Probably I had been misjudging her. What do ye call these things, a stole or something, fur; smelling of mothballs but it was fine on, probably hell of an old but she would have taken good care of it over the years; you could picture it. Expensive and fashionable for somebody that knew the score, somebody the same age as herself — the maw for instance, she would have clocked it immediately, that sort of deal. What the fuck age was she? At a guess, late forties — maybe even younger.

She had stopped looking at the brother now, she was back looking at Uncle Dan. That was all we needed, him to be involved — fucking scumbag, tightarsed bastard.

Aye she must have been attractive in her heyday but no doubt about that. She was probably much sought after. Uncle Boabby might have had to chase and chase to get her. I caught sight of da saying something quiet to the brother. Who knows what he was up to. I was never his confidant. The idea of putting a word in maw’s ear about the wee woman and her marching in to confront him. But would she fuck. She wouldni care one way or the other. Her and da had been bored with each other for years. Their whole relationship was sarcasm centred. It ran in the family. Everybody. I’m a sarcastic bastard myself. Just ask the wife. And where was she now in the name of fuck she had disappeared. Naw, she had just moved to a more private corner, I could see her with Big fucking Tojo mafioso, he was right up close to her, stooping over her. Dont worry son just stand sideways and all will be revealed.

The cousin walked by, still in the bridegroom suit. He was one of us as well; we were all sarcastic bastards. But with malleable personalities. Even the hero, Uncle Boabby, he was a malleable personality. Plus his wife ran him ragged. Women dominated us completely. None of us were cut out for relationships at all. Fuck knows how the species survived. It was families like ours made sperm-banks a necessity.

The wee woman was giving me a frown.

Sorry, I said, I was away thinking about other things. Actually, to be honest, I was wondering, would you say my Uncle Boabby was a firm sort of guy, in your own experience, I mean to us boys he aye seemed to be, the strong silent type and aw that, but maybe he wisni. Any comments on that?

She gave an ironic chuckle.

That surprises me, I said. And the reason it surprises me is because to the best of my knowledge it was my auntie who was the dominant figure in that particular household.

Mmm. She frowned. People are different with people; they’re basically chameleons as far as I’m concerned. It was the same when we stayed up in Perth, before him over there ruined things.

She was pointing directly at da. I glanced sideways to see if anybody had seen. And there was the wife. We stared at each other.

To tell the truth me and her have always had a special relationship. I tend to know when she needs me and vice versa, just now was one such occasion. I fucking love her and that’s that. We were just going through a bad feud at this point in time. The whole family was. I left the wee woman immediately and went to see if Mr 2000 was bothering her. He was a sharp big bastard in a mohair suit, flash dresser, a lot of patter. A bit of a gangster in fact. His family were noted in the drugs and money scene round a certain side of the city. He had certain connections one is not able to talk about. But it was easy to put a word in his ear. Come on, I said, whispering: This is a wedding, no a funeral, know what I mean, a wee bit of fucking respect.

He stepped back with a big smile: Boabby my man.

Aye, fucking Boabby my man!

I wisni meaning nothing.

Well ye know she’s the wife man eh?

Aye but I thought she came alone.

What?

He laughed and poked me in the ribs.

She came alone but she’s still my wife.

Can ye no take a joke?

Behave yerself for fuck sake ye’re a guest. I mean I dont even know who invited ye.

The other side, he says, I know yer cousin’s new wife’s people. I know them quite well in fact.

Aw aye?

Aye.

Aye well I knew it wisni fucking our side ye knew.

Naw. He smiled. Excuse me a minute will ye. . He winked at my wife and left.

Did I see that? Bastard. Big fucking bastard. Kidding on he was relaxed about everything as well. I would have done him in a minute if I had felt like it. The wife had stepped a couple of paces away from me now. She lifted a chicken drumstick and started nibbling at it; a dod of tomato sauce stuck to her upper lip. If you didni wear those bloody low-cut dresses, I whispered, smiling.

My dresses have got nothing to do with it.

Nothing to do with it! The tops of yer thingwis are showing.

It’s a wedding.

So what it’s a wedding, does that mean every man that looks at ye’s got to see yer bloody boobs?

You’re neurotic about my boobs.

I smiled. I brushed her left nipple. Remember when we got married, that night on our honeymoon.

Yeh yeh yeh, it was nice, ye were friendly. She knocked away my hand. Take yer paw off, she whispered.

Thanks o wife. I drew her into me. See that woman in the fur collar I’m talking to, I’m beginning to think her and the big brother have had an affair.

What?

Aye.

My wife smiled, she glanced at the wee woman who seemed to be engrossed in a world of her own. Naw, she said quietly, I dont think so.

Not only him my Uncle Boabby as well, the family hero, the guy I’m called after.

You’re havering.

I’m no havering, that’s what she’s been telling me. Plus my da’s got something to do with it.

Yer da?

Aye.

Mm.

Ever seen her before?

Never.

Neither have I. Think she might be a Sheriff Officer spy?

You’re bloody paranoiac. By the way, yer grannie wants ye to drive her home, she told me a wee while ago. I told her ye were drunk and incapable.

For fuck sake, imagine telling somebody’s grannie that.

Are ye?

Ye kidding? Yous fucking females man yous’ve planked the fucking booze.

Nonsense.

Anyway, I said, if she wanted me to drive her home she would have asked me hersel.

She’s been trying to. She’s been trying to attract yer attention. But you’ve been talking to her for the past hour.

What? Ye’re no serious. . She’s in her bloody forties, maybe even fifties.

It never stopped ye before.

Take it easy baby.

Well, ye’ve done nothing but ignore me since we left the church, that’s how Tojo asked me to go for a drink.

Pardon?

If ye had been here like a husband’s supposed to.

Am I hearing right?

I had to put him off myself. And that’s no easy.

What d’you mean it’s no easy?

When ye’re in amongst a crowd like this.

You telling me he actually asked ye to go for a drink with him?

My wife smiled and turned away. She was wearing a beautiful dress and it clung to her. I put my hand on her bum.

Take yer paw off.

What d’ye mean I was ignoring ye? I never ignore ye as well ye know, I can never take my eyes off ye, I’m aye ogling ye for Christ sake. That’s how I clocked big fucking dyed skull chatting ye up.

Tch.

Standing there trying to look down yer dress into the bargain. And you were letting him.

Dont be bloody ridiculous.

Well how come ye stood sideways? Ye can fucking see everything when ye do that.

Dont be so bloody stupit jealous.

I’m no jealous, ye kidding? — I dont actually care.

Naw, you dont care.

I dont. I took hold of her elbow and breathed into her ear. How come ye’re so truly beautiful? That’s what I really want to know.

There speaks a smug husband.

Thanks very much. . I stared at her, then shook my head; I left her standing and made my way back to the window. I needed to be alone. The wee woman joined me. I told her I was sorry for being away.

Oh that’s alright, she said.

It’s my wife I was talking to, we’ve been having problems recently, marital stuff.

It happens.

It bloody happens alright. What were ye saying about my brother again?

Yer brother?

I waited.

I wasni saying anything about yer brother.

Aw.

If you must know it was yer Uncle Robert.

And my da.

Och him, she said.

On ye go anyway, I said.

I dont want to talk about it anymore. Not in the present company.

D’ye mean me? Because it’s just me that’s listening.

Mm. Families are families.

Ye dont trust me in other words?

It’s not a question of trust.

I just want to know.

Sssh. She hit my hand.

I looked at her. I dont like people doing that.

Well no wonder. It’s what yer mother ought to’ve done years ago.

Is that a fact.

Dont be cheeky.

Did it come down to sex? I said, That’s what I want to know, cause the rest’s just fucking bullshit, know what I mean.

Sshhh.

Nobody cares in this company

That’s what you think.

They dont.

How do you know what people think? It strikes me you’re the kind that’s naive about relationships.

That’s a joke for a start.

Hh.

I stared at her. Christ missis ye can be hell of an irritating at times.

She smiled. She shook her head slowly. There was definitely something attractive in her. Even although she was wizened her face had firm outlines. I got a sudden notion of her body. I hadnt thought about it before, but I could imagine it now. She would be one of these women that give ye a battering when they kiss ye on the mouth; right aggressive; hard as nails. Fucking hell.

Now she was frowning at something.

What is it? I said.

She whispered, Is that yer grannie?

What of it?

Thought so. What’s she doing here?

Pardon?

The wee woman was staring across the room at her.

She’s my cousin’s grannie as well. She’s got more right to be here than any of us, I mean it was her that fucking started it all.

Mm.

Do you know her like?

I havent seen her for years. She was watching us.

Watching us?

Yes.

Ach it disni matter, she’s blind as a bat. Anyway, she never minds what I get up to, I’m her blue-eyed boy

— which is true. I could sleep with every woman in Glasgow and she wouldnt mind. But she would mind if I stopped discussing

what I’m doing on a day-to-day basis, how I’m living my life generally. She enjoys hearing me speak. She lives in one of these sheltered housing places where it’s all old folk and it drives her daft. So she likes to listen to the young folk. She says she doesnt but she does. Up to a point I’ve always confided in her.

I know about yer grannie, said the wee woman, she’s meanspirited.

I beg yer pardon?

It’s true.

Naw it’s no she’s an auld woman. Her view of life’s oldfashioned, she thinks men have got one thing on their mind and one thing only and she just puts up with it. As long as it disni involve her. She stopped having sex when she was twenty-eight. She told me. She never liked it very much except one experience she had in her mid-teens when she worked on a farm and she met this aulder guy who turned her on behind a haystack in the month of June. Apart from that no, it was just a chore to do with evolution. She’s an atheist but she’s got a humanitarian outlook; if people want the world to continue and develop then fair enough, that’s her opinion, she’s no going to stop them, even although personally she’s a pessimist, I mean a real one.

Is that yer wife over there?

D’ye want to have a word with my grannie like?

No thanks. I dont think it would be appropriate somehow. . She spoke out the corner of her mouth.

Appropriate?

The big tall man with her. God he’s a beast. .

What! I turned to follow her eyes. Bloody bastard! Soon as my back’s turned! Fucking Tojo, there he was, bending over her yet again. A mental age of twelve the bastard. Mind you but I mean that’s how me and her were going through a bad feud at the present moment in time. Women dress the way they dress and it’s us get provoked. That’s the problem with summer weddings as well, ye get all these females parading around with their bodies everywhere. The cousin’s wife man what a cracker! Fuck knows how he managed to get off with her, weedy wee cunt. A lassie from Balornock. I used to see her quite a lot. She ran around with a team that thought they were heavy. One of them was a guy from the Milton I used to play football with. We knocked fuck out each other at all grades, Boys’ Guild to the fucking Juveniles. I bumped into him recently in a pub up the town, he tried to click my ankles on the way to the fucking bar. What was I saying. The new sister-in-law. When we were boys and that, playing football, her and her mates on the touchline, she used to wear these jeans and her figure was something to behold, it drove ye fucking potty with that shirt blouse thing tied at the ends and her waist so slender and then the beautiful hips and the tight creases under her bum and at the front too like it would cause her extreme uncomfort vagina-wise; that’s how women get thrush — but even now in her wedding-gown Christ almighty it hid everything and revealed everything because ye knew precisely what she looked like below, there she would be standing in her bra and panties just I mean that’s all — silk too because it’s her wedding night and ye can imagine yer hand on the hem line it drives ye fucking bananas.

But ye wonder how yer cousin gets off with women like that. When we were wee he wouldni say boo to a goose. Now he can patter any woman he meets. Wee fucking bastard so he is, smug wee cunt. There’s a side of life that’s hard to work out. Sex is right at the root of it, it’s right at the very soul. That’s how I think my grannie’s got her head screwed on. I just personally think she shouldni have given up on it when she was twenty eight which is only a year aulder than the wife.

I saw the cousin leave the room. Probably away to change out the bridegroom suit. I noticed as well before the cake was cut all the close relations, we were all lined up for the photographs, and she was to give us all a kiss, the new bride, all the men; he wisni too pleased, ye could see it on his coupon, the cousin, trying to kid on he was hearty or somefuckingthing. The same when I got her up to dance later on. We did one of these stupid waltzes and it wound up we were gonni chuck it because folk were looking and she was getting embarrassed. But they were just looking cause she was the bloody bride. So we started doing one of them stand-on-the-spot-and-wiggle numbers, and her wedding dress man, beautiful, all silk and just fucking gorgeous, I got a semi immediately, I had to leave the floor, and who’s staring at me, wee fucking weedy chops man the cousin, staring at me.

Fuck him.

Just nature anyway. Maybe he thought I was taking the piss cause I left her standing. Fucking eedjit.

A wee nephew came walking by in his kilt, pulling a clockwork lorry on a bit of string, a big piece of slabbery chocolate cake in his hand. I grabbed his shoulder. Heh you, get a plate for that cake else it’ll fall on the carpet.

Uncle Boabby, he said, I need the toilet and there’s somebody

Well just wait at the door.

But there’s a big queue.

Well just bloody go to the front and skip in first.

I canni and I’m needing.

I’ll take him, said the wee woman.

— I had forgotten all about her. Ah he’s alright, I said, let him go himself.

I’ll take him, she said.

Look missis, the truth is you’re a bit of an interloper here I mean it’s a family deal know what I mean, know what I’m talking about?

There’s family and family.

Ye can say that again.

I’ll take the boy, she said.

Whatever ye like, I dont fucking care. I’m going for a pint anyway.

D’ye no think you’ve had enough to drink?

Naw.

She turned her head and went off with the wee nephew. I knew her game. Fucking obvious. Taking the wee yin to the lawy man it let her kid on she was tried and trusted. Ye could see through it a mile away. All the yarns she’d been handing me. Maybe I just hidni made myself clear. I couldni give a fuck what she did, or thought for that matter — I didni give a fuck what any of them thought. All except the wife. And big fucking mafioso was still all over her. Definitely out of order. I should just have walked across and let him have it, just banjoed the bastard. Charles fucking Atlas. Steve fucking Zchwasenbacker or whatever his fucking name is, Arnold or something. Either that or I should’ve got a return bout with the bride, but she had disappeared as well now, probably through with the rest of the women, the aulder generation — fuck them all. For some reason but I wanted to gub my Uncle Dan.