Round the back of the shops? said Tim.
Precisely. That’s where I’m talking about. The back closes came out onto the lane so the front must have been round on the main drag. I am only surmising that cause ye know what like it is when it’s a dream man ye dont fucking know I mean no for sure.
Hazy, I muttered.
Aye.
Ho man! Tim rubbed his hands, waggling his shoulders, enjoying the tale.
So anyway, says Arthur, along comes this other guy.
Other guy? I said.
Aye, and I know him, I know him well. So does the nasty fucker; in fact the two of them are mates, only I dont quite know who the first yin is.
What d’ye mean?
They get mixed up. I cannay mind who’s first and who’s second. That’s the funny thing about it, I cannay remember.
Sounds like a load of fucking keech.
Arthur shrugged.
How many guys again?
Just like I says.
What, three?
Aye.
Could it no have been four? I said.
Arthur frowned. It was three, there was two then the third man came along.
The Third Man! said Tim.
No the fourth? I said.
Naw, said Arthur. That’s the thing about dreams, everything gets slippery. One minute ye know the next ye dont. Weird.
Arthur smiled again and reached down to lift a stick from the ground. He used it as a poker, poking it into the fire. He dragged out half of something and kicked it ower onto its side, using the stick to shove it back in. I wished he would stop messing about. He didnay know about fires. Sometimes I get a daft feeling, like as if they know who it is made them; they will do what you want but if another cunt starts messing then who knows. Fires can be scary. I was about to speak when lo and behold Tim passed me a beer, a beer. A fucking magician! Where the hell did ye get that! I said.
Heh heh heh.
Ya cackling cunt ye!
You’re getting auld.
I looked at him and the can: How did ye open it without me noticing?
Tim winked.
Seriously? I said.
I am fucking seriously.
Did ye drink out it as well? Ye couldnay have, I would have noticed.
Tim laughed; Arthur with him.
Pair of bastards, I said, raising the can to my lips.
Sip it now Pat. I’ve only the one.
Sláinte. I swallied a long mouthful.
Gracias very much, muttered Tim.
I passed the can to Arthur. He was about to take a sip when the three of us spotted somebody in the distance: Peter Craig, he was cutting through the gap site at the other end of the waste ground. He waved ower to us. Arthur shifted the way he was standing to hide the can of beer. Know what I mean, he said, that could have been the polis; open-air drinking, a major act of criminal magnitude.
I was still looking ower to Peter Craig. He must have smelled the beer, I said, imagine smelling the beer.
Tim retrieved the can from Arthur and swigged a mouthful. He swigged another then passed the can to me. I took a long one and passed it to Arthur.
Finish it, said Tim.
Arthur did, then crushed it to death with his fist. He got the stick and scraped a space for it near the middle of the fire, chipped it in and poked stuff ower the top of it.
Ye wouldnay mind if it was a bottle of malt, I said, but one can of beer. A hunner fucking yards!
Tom sighed and gied a mournful look. I hope he doesnay tell Nicky Parkes.
Say ye found it, I said, it can happen.
Arthur winked: We’ll just deny it.
Right …
Aw man, I said, I feel pished. It’s all this excitement.
Tim was puffing smoke. I mean it’s no as if it was intentional. I just forgot. If Nicky Parkes says something, know what I mean, I wasnay keeping him out, I hope he wouldnay think that.
Not at all, I said, one can of beer and four mooths; one swally and ta ta.
Exactly, said Arthur. I wouldnay worry about it. Hey, I’ll finish the dream.
Dont bother.
Naw but it’s funny.
I’m no into dreams, I said.
Neither am I, but this one is different. Arthur winked at the two of us. It’s got sex in it.
Aw for fuck sake.
Sex! said Tim, a big smile on his face.
This gets worse and worse, I said, and I spat into the fire again.
Aye but it’s weird sex, said Arthur.
What a surprise.
Weird sex … Tim laughed for a moment but then he looked at me.
I said, What ye looking at me for?
I’m no.
Aye ye are.
Naw I’m no.
But he was. Then Arthur winked and it was me he was winking at. How come I don’t know. Just be careful, I said.
What about?
Just be careful.
Ye’re staring at me Pat, what ye staring at me for?
Staring at ye?
Aye.
I shrugged. Just dangerous territory man know what I mean, sex.
You’re para.
I’m just saying …
Arthur shook his head and looked away.
Tell us anyway, said Tim.
Arthur waited a moment. I gied him the nod and off he went. But something puzzled me about it. My hearing was no as good as it used to be but that didnay mean I heard things that werenay said. That isnay what folk mean when they say they have hearing problems. I might have been deaf but I definitely was not eh
Paranoiac is the wrong word. I couldnay think of the right one. That was Arthur and his fucking yapping, yap yap yap. Tim was puffing on his roll-up, gieing that contented look he aye gave when somebody was telling a story. He must have been some wean. Ye could have sent him to sleep with a paragraph. Once upon a time the three bears — and then he would have been snoring.
Uch well. I prepared to listen. Come what may Arthur was going to tell us the story. There were times I thought conspiracies were on the go and they werent, it was only me. Two slugs of beer and I was drunk as a fucking skunk. The wife said that about me, alcohol made me paranoiac. I aye thought things were happening and they werenay.
Dreams bored the arse off me. I never told mine to cunts so how come I had to listen to theirs?
Mine were boring as fuck. That was when I got any. I couldnay remember the last time. They were so boring they never registered. I got dreams where nothing happened. Nothing at all. The dream opens and there I am strolling down the street. Oh I think I see a bus! And then the dream stops. Big deal, seeing a bus. Thank you God.
Imagine telling somebody that.
It wouldnay matter if Arthur’s dreams were boring or no he would still want to tell ye them. The cunt aye had to be talking, just like the fire, he aye had to be poking the thing, messing it about. Yap yap yap, on he fucking went. Then in the distance: Nicky Parkes! He was carrying a polybag. Trouble, I said.
The other two saw him. Arthur quickened with the story, all about this nervy guy he met down the lane, turns out he had just had his hole. That was in the dream. Was it the punchline? I dont know, I wasnay listening. But Arthur was looking at me like he expected a round of applause. Is that all you can think about, getting yer hole? I mean what age are you!
What has age got to do with it?
Aye ye’re well named, fucking J Arthur.
Cheeky bastard. What’s up with you?
There’s nothing up with me, I said.
The two of them were looking at me.
Nothing up with me, I said.
Grumpy bastard, muttered Arthur.
Tim was frowning at me. The man’s got a point.
I dont fucking give a fuck about his point. I’m chittering standing here, it’s fucking freezing fucking cold. I spat into the fire, slapped my hands the gether, turned to see Nicky Parkes arrive. When he did he opened the polybag and brought out a six-pack.