Tom’s eyes are a wee bit too busy. His red-and-black lumberjack shirt is covered down the front with crumbs from one of the sugary shortbread biscuits that go down a storm in these sessions. ‘I’d like to introduce Audrey, who is joining us for the first time in the group. Hi, Audrey.’
‘Enjoy de re-hab-il-i-tay-shan,’ Swanney drawls in a ersatz Jamaican accent. Now I know where Matty gets this irritating trait. He professes to hate Johnny but he wants to be him.
Molly, who Audrey sat next tae, has taken a fancy tae Tom, and, it seems, a dislike to everybody else, apart fae Sick Boy. ‘Well,’ she says grandly, ‘ah came in here tae get masel sorted oot and ah’m prepared tae keep an open mind n gie Tom the chance tae dae his job. N ah’m sure Audrey is n aw.’
All eyes on the silent, nail-biting Audrey, with the big, haunted blue eyes.
‘Thanks … Molly,’ Tom says, as the room resonates with crashing sighs and the odd snigger. Tom’s lookin right at me, as if encouraging me to speak, but, sorry, shipmate, ah’ve set sails tae Port Silence. Seeker stretches his legs out, throws his arms behind his heid, issuing an enormous yawn, then sweeps his biker’s locks back. He looks like a lion that’s just eaten a pit bull.
I can’t stop stealing glances at Audrey. She looks a bit of a mess, but everybody does
The intrusion grates, more so because he’s caught me letching. How uncool a situ is that? It’s time tae quickly deflect: ‘You cannae fix me, mate. It’s no gaunny happen.’
‘Ah’d fix ye,’ Swanney speaks up, ‘if ah hud gear, like.’
He gets a few gallows laughs.
‘I didn’t say I could fix you.’ Tom shakes his head. ‘Only you can do that.’
I nod, accepting the obvious truth in what he says. ‘So, that begs the question, why are you here?’
I can hear Molly tutting in response tae my enquiry.
‘I’m here to help,’ Tom says.
‘So, wait,’ I find myself saying, ‘ye cannae fix me, but ye can help me tae help masel. Enable. Facilitate. Is that the deal?’
‘That’s it.’
‘Now why would you want to do that?’
‘I see. You’re questioning my motivation?’
‘No,’ I smile, ‘just clarifying.’
That’s one of the weapons in Tom’s interpersonal arsenal. He’ll probe away till you take exception, then go, ‘I’m just clarifying.’ He doesnae like this being used against him. His nostrils flare as he slowly expels breath. ‘Mark, we have these circular discussions all the time, and we get nowhere. Let’s keep this stuff out of the group and leave it for the individual sessions, as we agreed.’
‘As you agreed.’
‘Whatever, let’s just keep it out of the group.’
Molly interjects at this point. ‘Huh! That’ll be the day. Cause it’s eywis goat tae be aboot Mark, that’s the problem!’
I’m happy enough tae joust with the dippit wee slag. ‘Wow. Junky indulges in self-centred behaviour! Hud the front page!’
‘At least some ay us try. You just want tae show oaf tae your mates,’ and she looks around the semicircle in scorn. Audrey has another chomp on those nails.
Molly’s actually spot on. I thought her schooling stopped at bicycle-shed blow jobs but evidently I was wrong; she has some insight. The only real point of these sessions for me is to have a laugh with the boys. It won’t do me any good to let Tom know that, but, so I find myself saying as earnestly as I can, ‘Look, ah’m just findin it hard tae get tae grips wi aw this,’ I glance around, ‘and I’m tryin tae work out where everybody stands, that’s aw.’
Fair play tae Tom, but; he raises his eyebrows in mild exasperation, and he just looks round the circle. ‘What I want to talk about today are triggers. What are the triggers that make you want to use?’
‘A day wi a “y” in it,’ Spud says, and this remark fairly triggers smirks all round. Tom ignores Spud (although he’s deadly serious), cause that’s not what the boy’s after. He needs something to work with.
‘Steppin ootside the front door,’ Keezbo says, again deadpan. I’m a wee bit worried aboot the big yin. He’s completely lost his sense ay fun, which is a huge deal fir him.
This time, though, Tom acknowledges the intervention. ‘Thanks … Keith.’
‘Hanging aroond wi these cunts,’ Sick Boy says, looking at me, Spud and Swanney.
‘Well, now we’re getting somewhere,’ Tom contends, sitting up and forward in his chair. ‘Keith has said outside. Where we live. The environment. Simon has mentioned particular relationships, friendships. Peer pressure that reinforces this inappropriate and self-destructive behaviour.’
I cannae help but emit a volley ay derisive laughter at that yin. ‘Well, this is a fucking barry idea, get every cunt banged up in a residential unit thegither!’
‘Rents is right,’ Skreel goes. ‘Ah’ve met some sound peepul in here, dinnae git me wrang,’ he looks around ensuring no offence had indeed been taken, ‘but thaire’s no wahn ay thum gaunny help us git aff the gear.’
Tom stays cool though. Perhaps it wasn’t bullshit from Skinny-Specky when she described him as ‘one of the best in his field’. ‘There are obvious limiting factors on any service provision. But — and I’m just throwing this out there — might peer groups not also be used to reinforce positive behaviour?’
‘These being abstention? Sobriety?’ I dive in. As if any cunt here wanted to be sober.
‘But you want to get clean?’
There follows a long, deathly silence, as we look at each other, The Big Lie hanging in the space between us. On all our lips. The Big Lie that made this rehab game possible; that sustained the whole stupid, ludicrous cult. What to say? Swanney seems tae tipple the stakes are high, so he pitches in tae deflect. He has a smile on his coupon but is deadly serious at the same time. ‘I’ve fucked ower that many people, if ah stey clean the guilt and remorse’ll fuckin kill us. It just isnae worth it.’
‘He’s got a point,’ I say, again jumping in too quickly and hating myself for it. But I mean what I say, because I know Johnny does too. How many stones of regret would he need to carry in his gut over his life? You either have to learn to be better and cope wi what ye’ve done, or just learn no tae care.
‘Well … yes …’ Tom says, ‘but remember that this unit is experimental. If it doesn’t deliver, it will be shut down.’
Sick Boy gets Tom in his sights, perhaps a wee bit miffed that I’ve been making the running in the sneering cynic stakes. ‘So, we must all pull together for the sake of the unit! That’s absolutely top hole!’