‘My old dear wasnae about much. My granda looked after me, ay.’
She kicks her heels into the pebbles.
Tash and Isla walk back. We all huddle up next to each other, looking over the loch.
‘How many have you shagged then, Shortie?’ Tash passes biscuits along.
‘I dinnae ken!’
‘How not?’
Tash takes the biscuit packet back off her. Shortie has about ten biscuits in her lap.
‘You dinnae have tae say anything, Shortie. Shut up, Tash.’
‘What — it’s alright for her tae interrogate everyone?’
Shortie spits and her hands shake. We just sit. Water laps the side of the boat down on the shore and it bobs up and down.
‘I’m gonnae get us enough money for a flat,’ Tash announces. ‘You two can come and stay with us, if you want.’
‘I wish you’d stop. It worries me every time you do it,’ Isla says.
‘Aye, but in six months I’ll have enough money tae rent us a flat when we get out of here. A nice one as welclass="underline" flash kitchen, widescreen telly, fancy bed-linen. I will get you — anything you want! Anything. There’ll be just you and me and an extra bedroom so the twins can visit, and maybe one for these two radges.’
‘They won’t let the twins visit.’
‘They might.’
‘They won’t.’ Isla drops pebbles through her fingers.
‘You could study, though. Isla wants to study,’ Tash says, all proud and that.
‘What?’ I ask.
‘Child psychology, like, tae work with kids and that, ay. She’d be great at it. Really, Isla, you’d be amazing, you know that. We’ll even get married — I’ll make an honest woman of you, I’ll carry you over the threshold!’
Tash puts her arm around her and squeezes. Isla keeps tugging at her top, cos she doesnae think it’s covering her scars enough. I prop myself up on an elbow.
‘You look hot today, Isla. You suit halternecks, and they shorts. You look like a model, a short model, like — but a model.’
‘Definite,’ Shortie agrees.
Isla flushes and smiles quickly. She stops fidgeting with her top. Tash smiles happily and takes her hand.
A curlew flies up from the other side of the loch. It calls out in a low cry across the water. Most of the boats are sailing towards the top of the loch. There’s another boathouse up there that does drinks for members, or something. There’s a lot more boats on the water now: toppers and big white ones and one with a red and white stripey sail. Some are racing and some just glide along.
‘I could marry youz,’ Shortie exclaims. ‘You know like how you can become a vicar online now and that; you just, I dunno, fill out a form or something. Though I couldnae fill out a form, not with the dyslexia and that. But anyway, I could marry youz — on this here island!’
Shortie’s in earnest and she won’t quit.
‘I’m fucking serious, fuck it, you dinnae even need a form. God’s watching or, like, the clouds are watching. Me and Anais would be watching, ay, Anais?’
I nod.
‘I mean, serious, I’ll marry youz right now.’
She skids down onto the shore and grabs up a handful of wee blue flowers.
‘For the beautiful bride.’ She shoves an earthy clump at Isla. ‘Now, this is holy and serious,’ and she falls to her knees in front of them and makes them clasp their hands together. ‘What do youz think?’
‘I think you should,’ I say.
I’m smiling, cos the two of them look so young and happy, and it makes me hopeful. I dunno for what, like — just hopeful.
‘You’re just a diehard romantic,’ Tash says to me.
I’m already scrabbling up the slope gathering petals and flowers.
‘Well?’ Shortie asks again.
‘I’m in.’ Tash grins. Isla leans over and kisses her.
‘Right, you’re not at that bit yet. Go canny, ay; now, turn around tae face each other.’
Shortie looks to the sky, crosses herself, then opens her hands like they’re a prayer book.
‘Do you, Tash — light of our Isla’s eyes — do you promise to take this woman, our Isla, as your lawfully legal wife?’
‘Aye.’
‘You are making holy vows before this loch, these clouds, me and Anais — and they swans over there.’ Shortie points.
‘Okay,’ Isla says.
‘Right. Repeat after me. I, Tash, will look after, treasure and obey my teenage wifey, Isla, and I will never rug-munch another, as long as we both shall live, Amen!’
‘Aye, whatever you said.’ Tash takes Isla’s face in her hands. ‘I do!’
That’s real love. That look, right there, that’s what everyone wishes they had. Even me.
‘And do you, Isla — blushing bride of all blushing brides, beautiful in heart and body and soul and all things — d’ye promise, and I mean promise, tae love, honour and obey the love of your life, our Tash?’
‘I do.’
‘And do you both take these vows until both of youz are dead, for ever and ever and ever, Amen?’
‘We do.’
I slip a ring I’ve pleated out of grass intae Tash’s hand. She slides it on Isla’s finger.
‘I love you,’ Isla says.
‘Till death do youz part!’
‘Till death do us part.’
‘Then I declare with the power invested in me by youz, and Anais, and the island — and those swans over there — that you are now wife and wife. You may kiss the bride!’
They kiss, and Isla’s teary. I throw petals over them and they flutter in the sun.
‘Here comes the brides,’ I begin.
Shortie takes over, ‘Okay they’re barely legal but la, la, la, la, la!’
Isla and Tash join in as well and none of us know the words and it doesn’t matter at all, we just sing it to the tune: ‘La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!’
‘What the fuck are youz doing?’ Dylan stands up and shouts.
Fuck, we didnae even see them sneak up, they’re floating just near the shore.
‘Have youz got drink?’ John demands.
‘All gone!’
Shortie turns the Bacardi bottle upside down.
‘We’re coming ashore,’ Dylan shouts.
‘No, you’re fucking not,’ Shortie shouts back.
‘Fuck youz then,’ John says.
They paddle away for the next flag.
‘War!’ Shortie hollers.
She launches herself into the boat, we run after her, and the laddies are sticking their fingers up, then trying to paddle furiously away.
Shortie’s raging. ‘I cannae believe that boat-guy let them go — we cannae let them beat us. No fucking danger.’
‘Brian’s no in there, he must have been taken back tae the shore,’ I say.
‘We’re kicking your arses!’ John shouts back at us.
They’re getting far away already. Suddenly there’s more boats out around us.
‘No danger, you’re slow as. Losers!’ Isla calls.
I have never seen her look so light and happy — as we paddle like mental, and the sun is high and it’s even quite warm, we look healthier already. A bigger boat comes up behind us. There’s three birds in it and we slow for a second to let them by, but it means the laddies are really getting the lead now.
Shortie turns around and stares at the lassies’ boat, willing them to get out the road.
‘Chavs!’ the blonde lassie says loudly.
Her pals snigger. Shortie slows down paddling and turns right around.
‘What the fuck did you say?’
Isla’s still smiling; she kisses Tash on the cheek and grins happily, looking at her wee woven-grass ring. I like it, I did a not-bad job making that.
‘Oh my God, it’s lesbo chav.’ The blonde nods towards Isla.
‘Fucking ugly one at that,’ her pal adds.
I stand up — paddle in my hand.
‘It’s angry chav!’ her pal laughs.
‘You should watch your fucking mouth. She’ll kick your stinking cunt right intae next fucking week — ya skanky bitch.’ Shortie’s livid.