Demo (3 page)

Tell Clare what you compared oysters to.

Shut up, Julian, Laetitia says. She's only ate half her pasta and she's rollin a fag again. I'm looking at her plate. I think she must have saw me lookin, cause she says, Would you like some of mine? I can't finish it. And I'm like, Yes please.

Oysters, Titty, what did you say they're like when they slip down your lovely throat? Julian says.

Shut
up
!

A tongue in one's cunt. That's what she said. A tongue in one's cunt. What d'you think of that, young Clare?

You are an arsehole, Julian, Laetitia says.

I don't believe Laetitia had really says that. I mean like… use the c-word like that.

Why are you behaving like
such
an arsehole? She says it like
aahs
-hole.

Steady on, old girl, Julian says. Clare will begin to suspect you really like me.

Laetitia gets up. Clare, would you like to come to the loo with me and I'll dig out that coldsore lotion?

She leaves her fag burning in the ashtray, picks up this bag with sequins and ribbon and bits of lace all different colours and with like badges pinned on it and she starts to squeeze out past Julian. He grabs her arm as she passes and looks up at her. His eyes are kinda shiny and he's lickin his top lip, then bitin his bottom wan. Laetitia stops and turns to him and her eyes are black in the dim light. She takes his hand off her arm.

You're pissed, she says. And right enough, he's drank most of the bottle a wine hissel.

I get up, grab my bag and follow Laetitia. At the corner afore the lavvies I turn round. Julian's sittin with his head down and his dreads all spillin forward onto his plate.

Hey, Clare, Danny shouts across. Alright? He's dead happylookin and he holds up his glass of wine to me.

I'm fine, I says, and wave at him.

When I get in the toilet, Laetitia's already in one a the cubicles.

That you, Clare? she shouts.

Aye, I says. I go in the other one. I wait till Laetitia flushes afore I start to pee.

By the time I come out she's leanin ower the basin lookin into the mirror, puttin lipstick on, a sorta dark browny pink colour. She rubs her lips thegether. Then she clocks me watchin her in the mirror and smiles.

Lipstick revolutionary, that's me I'm afraid, Clare. Here, look. She rummages in her bag, takes out a wee tube of ointment and holds it out to me. Great for coldsores this stuff; I swear by it.

Thanks, I says. I take the tube, set it next the basin and wash my hands. I don't see any towel so I just shake them a bit in the sink. Then I unscrew the top of the tube. A wee white worm starts to ooze out the nozzle. I rub it on my finger and look in the mirror. My coldsore's even worse in the fluorescent light – dead scabby. I smear the cream quick onto my lip, screw the top on again and hold out the tube. Thanks, I says.

No, no, she says. You keep it.

Thanks a lot, I says.

She smiles, No need to keep thanking me. She's dead pretty. Like really beautiful.

What d'you think of Julian? she says, out the blue.

I'm like, I don't know. He's a bit… kinda weird… is he
no? Laetitia's leanin back on the basin with her mad bag in front and her arms crossed over it. And she's lookin… sorta into the distance, except she's really starin at the toilet door. That stuff he says about you and like… oysters… I mean, that was pure…
mental
.

She turns to me then and smiles. Yeah, she says, pure mental. Only she says
pyaw.
Come on, honey child, better get back out there in case they start the revolution without us. And she pushes open the door into the restaurant.

It's dark and like dead noisy and hot and folk are singin. We walk over to our table. Everybody's standin up singin. I know this one too.
‘Bandiera Rossa'.
I looks over at Danny; he's givin it laldy, punchin the air. The waiters are standin with their arms folded, watchin. Julian's no at our table but. He's over with the wee French guy, arm in arm and they're like conductin the whole thing with their other arms. Baith of them thegether. Julian's dreads are hittin the baldy head a the French guy so the wee guy stops conductin and grabs a bunch of them and holds them on top a his head like a mad wig. I looks at Laetitia and she looks at me and we both start laughin. And then we sing too.

… Avanti o populo, alla riscossa,

Bandiera rossa trionferaà.

‘Bandiera rossa la trionferà,

Bandiera rossa la trionferà,

Bandiera rossa la trionferà,

Evviva il socialismo la bella libertà…

Julian and Danny are still singin on the way back to the B&B. Different songs I don't know. They're walkin in the middle a the street but it's dead quiet; there's no traffic. I'm walkin
behind with Laetitia. She's got her arm through mine and I've got my hands in my pockets tryin to keep warm.

Julian starts up a new song, ‘50 Ways to Leave Your Lover'. Danny joins in.

Oh Christ, here we go, Laetitia says. I look at her but she says nothing.

Julian's dancin about the road, wavin his arms.

… slip out the back, Jack

Make a new plan, Stan

What's the next bit?

… Don't give a fuck, Chuck…

Naw, that's no in it, ya bam!

Get yourself free…

There's a squeaky metal noise and then a bang. A guy up above has just threw open a shutter and he's shoutin something at us. Julian stops in the middle of the street and holds his arms up to the guy.
Buona sera, signor. Che bella città!
The guy looks like he's in his vest; he shouts again then goes away back into the room. Julian's shoutin,
Signor, signor…
and Danny's tryin to pull him away. Suddenly the guy's came back and he like… flings this water out the window. I see it kinda in slow motion, shining against the streetlights like melted gold. It just misses me and Laetitia. It splashes onto the cobbles and spatters onto our shoes and the bottoms of our jeans.

Fucking bastard! Julian shouts. But we all start walking again. Faster this time. And Julian and Danny have stopped singin.

The big heavy outside door of the B&B is still open, but there's only one wee light on in the reception bit, so we talk quieter. I didny know Laetitia was stayin here as well.

Where's your room? she asks.

Third floor, Danny says.

I'm on the second.

Come on up to ours, Danny says. There's nay weed, but at least we can finish the wine.

What wine? Laetitia and me says at the exact same time.

This wine! And he pulls a full carafe out fae under his jacket like he's doin a magic trick. It's got a couple a red napkins stuffed in the neck so's it willny spill.

You clever old thing, Laetitia says.

A man of many talents, Julian says.

Swiped it off the French table, Danny says. It would just a went to waste otherwise. So what d'you say… your place or mine?

Well, you've got the double room… lead the way.

Yes, lead on Macduff.

It's ‘lay on', Julian, Danny says.

Well, rap my knuckles! Never could get to grips with the Scottish play. Not one of the Bard's best, if you ask me.

The stair's getting darker and narrower. Laetitia's in front. She presses a sorta round button on the wall and a light comes on.

You've got an answer for everything, ya know-all cunt.

Boys, boys! Laetitia says. Let peace break out, for goodness' sake. Make love, not war.

Is that an offer? Danny says. He's got the key in the door now but he's stopped and he's turned to Laetitia. It's funny but, when I'm lookin at him lookin at Laetitia, it's like he's no my brother. He's quite handsome. My pals at school say that: Your brother's gorgeous. And I laugh, cause… well, he's my brother. Now he's lookin at Laetitia as if there's naybody else there. He's got my ma's green eyes with like dead long dark lashes. My ma used to say, It's no fair, they lashes are wasted on a boy. But she was always smilin when she said it.

The stairlight clicks off. Come on, let us in for Christsake! I'm dying for a smoke, Laetitia says. You can just see her face kinda whitish in the dark.

Danny opens the door. Welcome to the humble Kilkenny abode, he says, and we all pile in. The room looks dead neat and white except for my bed. The duvet's crumpled and my book and my big red T-shirt for sleepin in are lyin on it.

OK, let's see what we've got for drinkin outay, Danny says, and he goes into the bathroom. Two here. He comes out with the toothbrush glasses from the metal circles above the sink. What else?

There's this, I says, and I pick up my empty Diet Coke can.

Great, and one ay us can drink out the bottle. What d'you say, Clare, shall we give the best crystal to our guests? He sounds just like Julian. I look round at Julian but he's went dead quiet. He's sitting on Danny's bed wae a face like fizz. His dreads are spread out over his shoulders and he's no even took off his jacket yet.

Danny pours some wine into one of the toothbrush glasses and hands it to Laetitia. She's sittin on my bed on top a her jacket with her bag on her knee, rollin a fag. She takes the wine off Danny and sets it on the wee table beside the bed.

Roll one for me, will you? Julian says.

Roll your own, Laetitia says, and clicks her lighter. A yellow flame comes up from the end a the wee thin roll-up, then settles down. She leans back on her elbows on the bed with her fag in her mouth.

Here, Danny says, and he pours wine into the other toothbrush glass and hands it to Julian. Get that down you. Then he takes the Coke can off us and sits down on the bed beside Laetitia. I don't know how he does it, but he manages to pour a thin stream of wine from the wide neck of the carafe into the hole on top a the can without spillin any.

Bravo! Laetitia says. Only it sounds more like Vravo! with her fag still in. She sits up and claps her hands and takes the roll-up out her mouth.

Here, Clare, Danny says, and hands me the Coke can. I wish it was Coke in it instead a wine – I'm thirsty. And the wine's no sweet like the kind I've drank afore at parties in Glasgow. But I take it anyway. There's nowhere for me to sit except on Danny's bed. Beside Julian.

He must've saw me standin wonderin what to do, but he doesny budge; he's still takin up most of the bed, leanin back on his hands, his legs spread wide, his eyes starin straight ahead. Danny and Laetitia are sitting close thegether on my bed. He's pourin more wine into her glass. I looks at Julian again and I sit down on the end a the bed. Danny and Laetitia are lookin into each other's eyes singin: ‘Little Old Wine Drinker Me'.

I get a fright when I open my eyes cause it's pitch-black and I don't know where I am. I'm lyin there tryin to figure it out when I hear the snufflin noise in the room like somebody wae a bad cold.

Danny, I says, is that you? No answer. I remember there's a light above my bed, so I feel about for the cord and pull it. The room comes on like a headache and Our Lady's lookin down fae the white wall. Danny, I says again. But when I look over it's Julian's dreads I see on the pillow. It's Julian makin the funny noises. He's cryin.

I get out my bed. I don't even remember taking my clothes off last night. I just remember gettin dead tired and closin my eyes when Danny an them were drinkin an talkin. I don't remember putting on my big T-shirt either. I pull it down over my knickers and go over to the other bed.

Julian, I says, you OK? Julian? All I can see are his dreads like a big tangled nest. I touch his shoulder. Julian? He turns
over with his dreads all over his face and he shades his eyes and looks up at me.

Clare, I'm … I'm… I just… And then he bursts out greetin really loud and he's sobbin and snotters is comin out his nose. He's a pure mess.

Julian, what's wrong? I says. But he can't stop cryin. I go over and get my rucksack at the end of my bed and pull out a big wad of paper hankies.

Here look, I says. And he takes some and rubs his nose but he just spreads the snotters all over his face. And there's a line like a snail trail across his dreads. Julian, wait a minute. I sit down on the bed beside him and wipe the mess off his face and dab at his dreads.

What's the matter?

Oh Clare, Clare… He reaches up and grabs my wrists. I drop the hankies on the floor. Clare, oh Clare, oh Clare… he says. And he puts my hand up to his mouth and kisses the palm. His moustache tickles me. Clare, you won't tell Danny or Laetitia about this, will you? Please. He's still heavin in between words.

No, I says, I won't tell them. And he pulls me down on top of him and he buries his face in my hair.

Oh, Clare, you're an angel, he says, and his voice is dead thick. He's still got his combat jacket on and all his clothes.

It's OK, Julian, I says. You're alright. It's OK. And I try to get up.

Don't leave me. Please don't leave me.

No, I won't, I won't. But look, you would feel better wae your jacket off. And your boots.

Don't leave me, don't leave me.

I struggle out his grip, get off the bed and go to his feet. See, I'll just get your boots off. I undo the laces and pull the big scuffed brown Docs off his feet.

Pooh, I say, smelly socks! But they areny really. It's just what I used to say to my da when I was wee every time I took his boots off when he came in from work. I thought it might make Julian laugh, but he's still lyin there moanin. I set the Docs on the floor quietly.

There, is that no better? Sit up now and we'll get your jacket off. And he does sit up. I'm amazed. I unzip it and start to ease it over his shoulders. Come on now, you've got to help me, I says. And he starts shufflin his shoulders, shruggin it off.

Clare, will you stay with me tonight? he says.

I take his jacket and lay it on top of his boots. Well, I'm no goin anywhere, am I?