Fuck me, he gi’es it, ma heid’s totally spinnin. Oan some kinda high, ah am. Ah dont feel like goin back tae Niederbipp thenight. Kin ah kip at yours, Goalie?
Ahm like that: Nae bother. Ahm goin hame tae ma bed thenoo but. He but, he wantit tae sit oan fur a while. Kid he jist show up at mine later? So ah tellt him the hoose number an’ explained: second flair, left-haun door, door wid be open, an’ he kid crash oan the couch jist, ahd leave a blanket oot fur him, an’ nane ae his fuckin crap, thank-you-very-much. So ah take masel aff hame. Wee Stofer carried oan drinkin at the Spanish Club meanwhile. Probably moved oan tae some ither place too.
Next mornin, ah get up an’ go tae see is he still in the land ae nod. Ma sofa’s got naebody oan it but, there’s nae sign ae wee Stofer. Aha, ah think tae masel, he didnae come, he found somewhere else tae kip. Fine by me.
An’ when ah see the cunt in the village naw long eftir that, ah ask where he slept then, last Saturday night.
Where d’ye think? At yours, Goalie. As agreed. Thanks again, by the way.
Whit d’ye mean ‘at mine’? Ye wurnae at mine.
Naw, ah wis. Course, ah wis. Ah done exactly whit ye tellt me, such an’ such a number, third flair oan the left, door wis open so in ah went an’ crashed oan the sofa, oot fur the coont right away ah wis.
Whit d’ye mean ‘third flair’? Second flair, wee man, second flair oan the left. Didnt ah tell ye: second flair, left!
Fuckin shit, wee Stofer goes, ah musta slept aw night in some ither cunt’s flat, some cunt ah dont even know. Who the fuck lives above ye, Goalie?
Ye see, Regi, that’s the kinda guy Stofer is, cannae tell the diffrince between two an’ three, yet manages tae get through life.
Ah dont believe it, she goes. Valentin an’ aw asked: wis that aw true?
Course it is. Whit ur yis thinkin?
Incredible, she said. That’s got nowt tae dae wi the hoose but. Mibbe Stofer’s uncle didnae leave him an actual hoose, but a smaw fortune? Regula — ah kid tell — wis makin a final attempt tae find a logical explanation fur the hale situation. Ye kid see but she didnae believe it hersel.
If he’d been left money, he’d hiv said so, an’ naw spelt oot how his uncle hid left him the hoose. Naw, Regula, there’s only wan reasonable explanation fur this: Stofer isnae clean an’ there’s summit naw-clean aboot this hoose an’ aw.
Valentin wis surprised this wis gi’in us sae much food fur thought. How couldnt we jist enjoy bein able tae be here? Ah hid tae admit he wis right. So we changed the subject an’ talked aboot the ither villages in the region insteid.
Later that night but, it wis daein ma heid in. Even if ah didnae want tae say anythin tae Valentin, ah wis suddenly thinkin this stupit story hid summit tae dae wi ma trial an’ the time ah done in the Joke. Cos aw that stuff wi the strange French guy — or Arab or whitivver he wis — wis aw tae dae wi a loatae cash an’ nae cunt knew whit hid happened tae it, least ae aw me, even if the judge wis constantly askin me. Back then, ah didnae want tae brood aboot it too much. Noo but, it hid come over me an’ ahd nae choice in the matter. Broodin’s like any ither physical need: like sleepin, fur instance, or eatin or pissin, ye kin pit it aff furra while, some folk kin pit it aff fur longer than others, at some point but ye jist hiv tae dae it. So ah wis lyin there so ah wis an’ kidnae stop thinkin ahd mibbe done time in the Joke fur the hoose ah wis noo lyin in.
The next day, Regula an’ me went furra walk an’ ended up in a village where there’s a mineral spring that’s famous in the region. That disnae necessarily mean but that ye hiv tae order a mineral water if ye go intae a pub in a mineral-water-village. Ah ordered hawf a litre ae rid. An’ fur starters: a nice cauld Mahou beer tae set me up first, an’ a sherry fur Regula.
Across fae me in the pub wis a picture ae wan ae they femme fatales. Tae be mair exact, cowerin in the picture wis a woman whose face looked aboot thirty, she’d the body but ae a young dancer, or whitivver, well-toned, shipshape fae heid tae toe. She wis wearin wan ae they semi-see-through tops too, that let ye see the breasts shimmerin through. Perfect they wur, by the way, really nicely painted. She wis wearin they leggins an’ aw, like fur the gym. Figure-huggin, they wur an’ aw. It wis really well painted, naw totally naturalistic, mair a wee bit unusual, as if, aye, ye wantit tae show ivrythin exactly how it wis, but also wantit tae gi’e the reality yir ain touch but. Ah widnae be able tae paint like that, that’s fur sure. Even if ah wantit tae. An’ many an artist ah know kidnae eether.
So ah looked at this picture, marvelled at it fur the longest time, said tae Regula tae look at it an’ aw — it fascinated me sae much. An’ she, the woman in the picture, made a sortae face at me, dont know how ah shid describe it. She wis comin oan a bit sluttish or whitivver, a bit alang the lines ae: Mon then, if yir a real man! Take a haud ae me — unless yir feart tae. Dead erotic it wis, really — an’ naw in a cheap way. Naw, in a mair artistic way. That’s the diffrince atween art an’ aw that primitive shite, ah thought tae maseclass="underline" wi this picture, ye kin see that the lust is jist wan ae many diffrint aspects. Regula thought it wis impressive an’ aw.
Cos Regula wisnae jist lookin at the picture, but lookin roon the bar an’ aw, she suddenly whispered tae me tae hiv a close look at the landlady. How? ah asked. Jist, says Regula. Okay, ah go, an’ ah see a woman ae aboot fifty, grey hair, a natural-coloured knitted pullover, nae make-up, the close-tae-nature pottery-maker or eurythmics-teacher type, we’d wan in the jail like that an’ aw who done work therapy wi us.
When ahd studied her long enough, ah asked Regula whit it wis aboot the woman. She says nuthin. So ah look at her again, the landlady. She looked like aw kinds ae things. Above aw but, in a worryin way, she wis sexless, completely asexual. Ahm only stressin that cos, itherwise, almost ivry human bein, even the ugliest cunts oot, hiv summit aboot them that minds ye we’re aw sexual beins. The landlady but his nuthin. It wis as if she wis naw masculine, naw feminine, but neuter.
Then Regula nods discreetly at the picture oan the wall an’ again at the landlady an’ finally, the penny draps! She wis the femme fatale in the picture, jist twenty year aulder. That felt totally odd. Ye felt like a voyeur, starin intae the private life ae someone who wis noo twenty year aulder an’ only in the picture wis she still young an’ seductive.
Regula, ah said, if ye ivver let a painter paint ye, ye hiv tae promise me ye’ll hing it somewhere where naw ivry jerk kin stare at it fur twenty years.
She promised me an’ ah ordered anither hawf a litre, mainly so ah kid check oot the landlady fae up close.
Wis she fae this area? ah asked her.
Naw, she wis French.
Nice picture yiv got hingin there.
Aye, her husband painted it.
Ma compliments! He’s guid so he is.
The trip tae Spain ended wi a wee argument. Nuthin bad, a bit unpleasant aw the same. That’s ma weakness, ah guess. Ah nivver manage tae take care ae people ah like. It’s a bit like the a-bit-handicapped guy in that novel, the wan aye pittin mice in his trooser pocket cos he wants tae pet them. Then but, he his too much strength an’ squashes them tae death. He likes mice. He disnae want tae harm them. Naw that that’s ae any help. He cannae help himself, squeezes too hard. Similar shit’s aye happenin tae me, wi human beins but. Naw physically. Mentally. Ah nip the brains ae folk that ur important tae me sae much, they get tired ae listenin tae me an’ turn away.