Guilt was an ever-present for Luke. It wrapped itself around his heart and mind, weighed down muscle and bone, and invaded his sleep. Every waking moment arrived to him through a filter of shame.
All he could do, he determined, was to make sure he acted in the present in a way that his future self would be proud of.
It helped if he thought back to those days and reminded himself about how manipulative and dangerous Danny could be.
He realised that as a young man, he’d bought hook, line and sinker into the notion that education was not for the likes of working-class kids like him, that places of learning were for their betters. And rather than see them as unattainable, it was preferable to dismiss them in the harshest possible terms, view education as something that was at best deeply questionable and at worst a sign that you thought you were better than those around you.
That was the way your peers pulled you back. Pulled you down. Quashed any ambition to make something of your life. There could be no greater insult than: ‘Who do you think you are?’
But Luke did crave to be better, to get better, to do better.
All he saw in front of him was an existence in which he was low down a chain of petty criminals, was in and out of prison, and was married to a wife who hated the sight of him and who bore him a couple of kids who had the exact same life journey ahead of them. A life of lack.
So, determined to go one better than his mates – a notion he simultaneously shrank from and embraced – aged twenty, he signed up for night classes at a local college. First he would get some higher grades, then he’d apply for university. Engineering. That was a good occupation, he thought. And it paid well. Enough to get him the fuck away from the people around him.
He told no one.
And yet…
One month into his lessons, where he’d unexpectedly found that he had a facility for French, he was walking towards the college when he saw Danny sitting on a low wall by the gates.
Luke stuck out his chin, determined to stare down his friend. As he walked the long path towards Danny he rehearsed what he was going to say – how he was going to let his friend know that whatever he was doing was none of Danny’s business. But when he reached Danny, he got in first:
‘I need you to deliver something.’ It wasn’t a request.
‘I’m busy,’ Luke said, and moved to walk past, but Danny jumped to his feet and was in his face, hot breath scouring his skin.
‘This cosy wee life you’ve got planned for yourself,’ Danny said, ‘isnae happening. You’re scum. You’ll only ever be scum.’
‘Piss off.’ Luke pushed him away, but Danny was straight back.
‘That night? You and your old pal? I’m the only one who knows, remember? And should I happen to start blabbing…’
‘What?’ Luke’s stomach went into freefall. ‘Why now? After all these years?’
‘Because, buddy boy. Because.’
Luke processed what this meant. If Danny told everyone what he knew there would be no coming back.
‘Now,’ Danny said, his posture one of the victor. ‘About that delivery.’