It was as if there was a troupe of trampolinists taking turns to do somersaults on my stomach. After pounding the streets of Glasgow all day I found myself lying on my bed, in the foetal position, listening to some of my mum’s country albums and the battering rain outside. I don’t know which was making me feel worse: the stomach pains, the weather or the pained voices in the music. All those break-ups, affairs, domestic violence and cash-flow problems. I was lying there thinking, bloody hell, why did we have to come to this shit excuse of a city, with its village mentality? (Rich, I know, coming from a boy from Eastbourne). I didn’t have the energy to get up and turn the music off. I lay there and felt sorry for myself. It was an hour before I was due to be at Rosie’s. I liked being punctual. A great virtue of mine.
‘Come in, I’ll get you a towel,’ she said. Usually we kissed or did something affectionate, but it was evident that Rosie wasn’t going to make that move. I didn’t approach either, which made me think that I was the one who always instigated the kisses, hugs, holding hands, stroking hair and all that other touching stuff. I guess this time I just stood there like a wet blanket. It’s funny when things are decided, you see people in a different light. Gone was all the mysterious guy tag that had been placed on me. For mysterious read pathetic drip. ‘Don’t just stand there, come in.’ She handed me the towel.
‘Thanks,’ I said.
‘Have you been out all day?’
‘Yes.’
‘Glasgow?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where did you go?’ she asked.
‘To the centre of the city and then the West End. Then I wandered around the university area and the grounds of the art gallery.’
‘Sounds great.’
‘It was okay, I suppose.’
‘So that’s what you did the whole day?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘Until now?’
‘Yes.’
‘Just walking?’ she asked.
‘And thinking.’
‘It’s a wonder you didn’t get arrested.’
‘I needed to think.’
‘What about?’
‘Us, school, Glasgow, me, you. Lots of shit. Pertinent shit.’
‘Wow, sounds like a great day out.’
‘It’s what I needed to do.’
‘I heard what happened at school.’
‘Yeah, the guy’s a mental case.’
‘Head banger.’
‘I’m going back tomorrow, you know.’
‘Is that wise?’
‘I can’t run away forever, Rosie. I have to confront this guy…I have to.’
‘I think I agree.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes. Confront the mentalist.’
‘That’s what I aim to do. I’m not going to allow this guy to intimidate me much longer. He’s ruining everything.’
‘Any ideas how you’re going to handle it?’
‘I have some idea, but I’m not adverse to seeking solace in some of the teachers or the police, if it comes to that.’
‘I don’t think it’ll come to that.’
‘I’m thinking of getting him on his own.’
‘And then what?’
‘Presenting him with a choice.’
‘Of what?’
‘Rationale or conflict.’
‘Speak English, Clem,’ she said. She said that a lot.
‘I’m going to try and reason with him, and if he throws that back in my face then I will have no alternative other than challenge him to a scrap.’
‘A square go? You are going to ask Fran McEvoy for a square go?’
‘Just him and I.’
‘Really?’
‘With none of his merry band present. Just the two of us.’
‘Clem…’
‘…What other choice do I have?’
‘None, I suppose.’
‘Exactly.’
‘But McEvoy is always fighting, like he has loads of experience in it. It’s the one thing he’s actually good at.’
‘I played rugby at my last school.’
‘Rugby! Big wow!’
‘I’m stronger than him, and fitter.’
‘I don’t doubt it.’
‘I fancy my chances if it’s only the two of us, and fair.’
‘With that maddo? He wouldn’t know the meaning of fair.’
‘Well if he’s carrying anything I just have to be ready to deal with it.’
‘Christ Clem, you sound as if you’re excited by it.’
‘I’m psychologically prepared.’
‘And what if he doesn’t take up the challenge? Then what?’
‘Then I’ll have to initiate it myself, won’t I?’
‘I think you should just stick to the first plan.’
‘Of asking him to see sense?’
‘Yes.’
‘Just stick to that plan and I think you’ll be okay.’
‘You think?’
‘I have a good feeling about it, let’s put it that way.’
‘Well let’s hope it’s the right feeling.’
‘You don’t want to do anything stupid.’
‘I won’t.’
‘I know you Clem, you might do something impulsive.’
‘I’ve played it out over and over in my head. I just need to stick to the plan.’
‘Well, I’ll support you.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. I was surprised at her support.
My plan for McEvoy was flawed. Flawed on so many levels. I needed one for Rosie and me. A plan that would say ‘Rosie, it’s been a blast old girl, but it’s time to move on. I’ll send you a postcard from Brighton.’
‘It’s late, Clem.’
‘Yes, I should go.’ I almost sprinted to the door.
‘Okay, see you tomorrow, then?’
‘Okay.’
‘You’ll be fine Clem. Try not to worry.’ She placed her hand on mine. That’s the type she was. I was different.
‘I’ll try.’
‘I don’t want you to get hurt.’
‘I know you don’t. We should protect each other,’ I said. I think she thought I meant that I wanted her to protect me, but you could never tell with Rosie. She was being ambiguous again. She liked that word. I’d miss her. Really I would. I’d miss all the new words she enjoyed saying.
‘We will.’
‘Shall I pop round before school?’
‘Erm…’
‘…We can walk together.’
‘If you like.’
‘Okay, see you tomorrow, Rosie,’ I said and pecked her on the cheek.
‘Don’t be late.’ What was she saying? Of course I wouldn’t have been late.
‘I won’t. Promise.’
‘Night, then.’
‘Night.’
She shut the door before I looked away. The curtains were being drawn as I reached the bottom of the path. It was curtains.