Same Again?

Ah held mah heid up wae mah weary hands, the weakness flowing through mah body. It had been a day. In fact, it had been a lifetime. A lifetime of mistakes an ah dinnae ken how the fuck ah wis gonna change anything.

Same auld me. Same auld problems. Stuck in a rut didnae really dae it justice. There wis a rut above mah heid. Ah wis several leagues below it.

Jules Verne never goat this deep doon in the shiter.

Twenty thousand leagues under the pish and shite that is the rut I'm in right noo.

Nae fantastical beasts here, though, just the demon on mah back. The one that's been there for too fucking long.

But whit am ah gonna dae?

He's aw ah've kent.

Slides intae view, a slicker, greasier, repugnant version of me, wae a lust for life the likes of which Iggy Pop wis describing.

Fuck me, Iggy still looks fucking great for his age. And it's no like he's been kind tae his body.

So the shadow me enters an good judgement an sense take their leave.

But here he's sat in the corner sulking.

"Same again?"

Maureen looked at me like she knew ah wis going tae be here for a lang time.

"Aye, but nothing for ma friend in the corner! He's been a fucking troublemaker again."

She rolled her eyes, sorted her lang greeny-silver hair behind her ears and poured me another double whisky as ah swung around an pointed tae the empty seat in the corner of the pub.

Laughing at the sour faces of the other patrons, ah turned back tae the bar and Maureen.

"Ah, of course, you cannae see him. You only get tae meet him once he sets his sights on ye."

"Yer a strange one, Billy. Maybe yer imaginary friend will actually ask me oot instead of ignoring me like you have for five years," she replied.

Ah noticed ma reflection behind Maureen, grinning at me or Maureen.

Ah shook ma fist at him before downing half ma whisky.

"Wanna hear a story, Maureen, lass?"

"Sure. It's no going to be one where you end up in a ditch wae pissed jeans, is it? Like the last one ye telt me?"

Maureen did have a delightfully grounded, sarcastic but warm personality.

"Naw. But a few weeks ago..."

Ah sat up straight as she poured herself a whisky an sat doon, almost eager tae hear me.

"Ah wis at a school reunion do at ma old school. Ah wis looking loads sharper than ah am the day, like. Actually shaved, if ye can believe it — ah doubt ye can — an walked in feeling a rare confidence. At the front doors, the old head teacher wis there tae welcome everyone. The fat bastart couldnae mind who ah wis. Made painful small talk aboot how he always knew ah'd dae something great wae ma life."

"And not become a drunk, you mean?" Maureen laughed.

"Haud yer wheesht, lass!"

She grinned and zipped her mouth shut with a wink.

"Then when ah get in the building, there's a desk wae a wee petite ginger lass handing oot badges and crossing names aff a list. She welcomed me wae aw the enthusiasm of someone visiting Wonka's chocolate factory on a fifth of vodka and a couple of lines of Charlie. Sniff, sniff. Efter introducing masel, she checked her list... twice, like Santa Kringle, an then apologised and wrote me oot a name badge.

"'Did ye say it wis Billy?'

"Ah said aye and took the badge, making sure ah caressed her fingers a bit. Then ah shook ma heid and told the greasy guy on ma back tae fuck off. Ah apologised and went intae the main room, which had a late-nineties theme going on.

"This is when ah should've turned around and left... but there wis punch and canapés. Ah hadnae ate much that day, so ah helped masel tae some punch and a wee pastry wae a prawn. Punch pissing me aff so much. There's nae finesse tae it. Like Long Island iced teas. Ah felt the alcohol and synthetic fruity syrup line ma throat and ah felt better.

"A blonde came over tae me. Ah had tae focus on her name badge in that moment as ah adjusted tae the liquid courage, which, as she wis wearing a low-cut top, probably translated as me staring at her plastic tits for too long."

Maureen snorted.

"How dae ye know they were fake?"

"Ah jist dae."

Maureen rolled her eyes again before leaning back and pushing her T-shirt so her tits were pushed together.

"Whit aboot mine?"

"Yers are real. Nae showstoppers or eyestabbers. Normal."

"Charming," she huffed.

"Anyway, Diane wis her name, and she asked if ah wis Mark Deacon cos she always had a thing for Mark Deacon. Whoever the fuck that wis."

"Who wis he?"

Maureen asked with her right eyebrow raised, sucking on her tongue efter a mouthful of nuts.

"Still don't have a clue. Anyway, Diane wis annoying but flirty and ma ego wis enjoying the boost, even if ah didnae have the foggiest idea who the fuck she wis. She reminded me of Kirsten Dunst a little. Aw pretty eyes and face wae nae personality. No like ma present company."

"Are ye saying I'm no pretty but have a good personality? I've telt ye afore, arsehole, yer no as charming as ye think ye are!"

Maureen laughed. She didnae mean that. Ah could tell. But Greasy Me wisnae getting near her.

"Ah had a wee dance and mooch aboot. It wis only when ah read the class dates properly that ah realised ah wisnae at school those dates. Ah wis the class of '81 tae '85, no '91 tae '95."

"Whit? Ye went tae the wrong reunion? Yer a fucking rocket sometimes, Billy. I'm guessing ye didnae leave, as ye should have, the minute ye realised yer error?"

"Ye guessed right."

"Whit did ye get yersel intae this time?"

"Ah couldnae leave, as they'd just started playing Yazz's hit 'The Only Way Is Up.' Ah had tae cut a rug. There wis nae Talking Heads or Blondie, but ah wanted tae boogie. The punch wis already working... Never mind."

"Talking Heads. I havenae listened tae More Songs About Buildings and Food in too long."

"Ah have the vinyl in the hoose..."

"Are ye inviting me over tae listen?"

Ah grinned and then felt that pang of something.

"Naw. Ah can lend ye it though, lass!"

Ah shook ma heid.

"Suit yerself," she huffed, slumping over the bar.

"So ah'm pulling oot ma best moves and then some rando in a shell suit, for some reason, came over tae me and introduced himself at the second anthemic chorus.

"'Mark Deacon, is it, Tam?'

"He extended his hawn, which ah begrudgingly took and shook.

"'Naw, Mark, ah'm Billy. Were ye the twat that had a fight wae the geography teacher? Him wae the seriously sweaty pits and those blue shirts that showed the evidence. Whit wis his name? Mr Valdooonican? Wait, did ye say ye were Mark Deacon? There's a lass looking tae ride ye dry somewhere. Blonde, wae more plastic than Barbie or the Atlantic.'

"He looked at me like ah'd spat on his maw's grave.

"'Whit did ye say, pal?' he asked, aw accusatory.

"Fortunately, Diane came over and telt him tae calm doon and asked him for a dance.

"As they walked aff tae the centre of the dance floor, ah called him a wanker, waved ma hawn, and then he lunged at me. Like some MMA guy, that Irish fella. Rory McIlroy. Naw, that's the fucking golfer. The other Irish sports guy.

"Ah had tae punch him in the baws tae get him aff me. Greasy Billy grabbed him fae behind. Then we were aboot tae go face-to-face, but ah headbutted him and punched his nose and heard a crunchy noise. Felt it a little too.

"People gathered roond him and were saying indecipherable shite tae me as Christina Aguilera wis singing aboot being a genie in a bottle.

"Ah then took masel oot tae the foyer again and spoke tae the ginger lass. She wis definitely trying tae be coy, until the head teacher and some knuckle-dragger guy — a PE teacher, ah suspected — stood at either side of me and asked the cutie if ah wis bothering her. Greasy Billy wis laughing and licking his lips.

"One thing led tae another and ah wis slung oot of the building.

"Then ah phoned for a taxi and fucked aff hame. Noo ah'm here talking tae you, lass."

As ah felt the weight of ma heid become too much for ma arms, ah slid it doon tae the bar and felt cold metal against ma cheek.

Bang.

"Mr McPherson. Billy. Your story is interesting and entertaining, but we have witness accounts that paint a different picture."

Four walls. Two polis. One guy — him who wis talking — and a lass. She looked like she'd jist fell oot of college.

"Lucy Bowler, the individual you referred to as 'the ginger girl,' said:

"'I don't know what the man's problem was, but as soon as he came over to my desk, he grabbed my hand and kissed it while... I don't know how to describe it. Leching over me. It made me feel icky. But I thought maybe he was just a little tipsy, and by the time he had gone into the party, I just got on with my job of greeting people.'

"Do you have any response to that statement?"

"Ah thought ah wis jist being friendly. Ah didnae mean tae gie her the heebie-jeebies!"

"I see. Then a Diane Franks claims:

"'The guy was a bit pervy and drunk. Looked down my top a lot. But that's what men are like. But when Mark started on him, he just lost it.'"

"She wid defend her boyfriend, or lover, or shagger..."

"Mr McPherson, I've not finished. Mark tells a slightly different story:

"'The guy lunged at me. I think he said he was going to shag Diane and make me watch. I couldn't take his disrespect, so I calmly suggested he walk off his drunkenness and call it a night. Then he punched me in the balls and all hell broke loose. Eventually, the head teacher and PE teacher came and took him out of the building.'"

"First time ah'd ever met Mark Deacon, but he came across as a stupid cunt. No surprised he wid twist it aw in his favour."

"Then there's the PE teacher, Mr Dunstable. He claims you left of your own free will."

"Well, ah could tell they wanted tae chuck me oot. Ah know when ah'm no welcome. So whit? Ah got a taxi, like ah said, and went hame."

"We have evidence contrary to your statement.

"For the benefit of the tape, we are playing CCTV footage taken on October 5th, across from Langston Town Hall, where the school reunion took place. Are you sure you got a taxi, Mr McPherson?"

"Um... aye. Ah'm sure."

"Would you mind explaining what you can see on the video?"

"That wisnae me. Ah can explain. That wis Greasy Billy."

"Excuse me? Who?"

"Okay, so ever since ah wis knee-high tae a nipper, ah've had... Well, ah widnae call him a friend, but a close associate? Conspirator? Anyway, since ah wis wee, he's always been there, lurking and causing me aw kinds of trouble. Fae petty shoplifting tae several drunken mishaps through ma teens and college years.

"That footage right there... that's no me. That's Greasy Billy."

"I see. So you expect us to believe that? You didn't even go home. Look."

"Okay... Greasy Billy is driving. No hame but somewhere... Oh. That's Maureen's hoose!"

"That's where we found you. Maureen — Ms Fischer — said you were dishevelled and covered in blood that you claimed was someone else's. We also found some blood in the front grille of your car."

"Whit... Greasy Billy didnae kill anyone, did he?"

"Fortunately not. You hit a dog. He's in the animal hospital but on the mend. The owner is going to avoid pressing charges, thanks to someone's recommendation. We just need to finish some paperwork, then you'll be free to go."

Ah let ma heid hit the table and the hangover fae the night before finally hit.

It wisnae lang — or maybe it wis — afore ah wis oot the polis station.

And waiting for me wis Maureen.

"You?"

"Aye. Get in the car. We need to talk."

She drove me back tae mine and made a pot of coffee for us.

"Billy. The ball's in your court. This could have been worse. You could have gotten someone hurt. Christ, man, you could have gotten yourself hurt or... worse. But dae ye know what I hate most?"

"Whit?"

"You drove, drunk, tae mine and got me mixed up in your shite. Why?"

"Maureen, lass. It wisnae me."

Looking at the blank television screen, ah could see Greasy Billy shaking his heid.

"It wis Greasy Billy."

Naw.

Wait.

"It wis me."

Maureen didnae stay for lang after her cuppa.

Ah didnae see her for a wee while. Ah wis still trying tae process a whole load of shite.

She'd telt me ah needed tae sort masel oot and that she'd spoken tae the owner of the dog and pleaded ma case as one of drunken stupidity rather than pure evil malice.

Then one day, ah pulled up a stool in the pub and the familiar sound gave me as much joy as Nemo felt when he reached the bottom — ah imagine.

"Same again?"

Maureen noo had reddish-brown streaks in her silver bob and wis just... Maureen.

"Can ah have a Coke, please?"

"You're the customer."

As she poured the drink and passed it tae me, ah took a few sips and checked the reflection tae see auld Greasy Billy looking at me.

Glaring.

"Maureen?"

"Aye, Billy. Whit dae ye want?"

"Ah found that record!"

Ah chimed it wae as much charm as ah could muster, though ah felt like prey approaching a python or herring.

"Good for you."

"More Songs About Buildings and Food."

"I know whit fucking record ye mean!"

"Dae ye wanna listen tae it at mine?"

"Naw."

"Why?"

"You know why. You just don't want to admit it."

"Maureen... fuck it. Dae ye wanna come tae mine, listen tae the record and get tae know each other better?"

"Took yer fucking time. Arsehole."

"That's a yes then, lass?"