Remember Me 1

by Ian C. P. Irvine

  Everyone headed back inside.

  “Fiona? Fiona Lewis? Is that you?”

  A man’s voice. Strangely familiar. It immediately tickled the memory banks, but it didn’t trigger anything fast enough before she turned around and found herself face-to-face with Barry Quinn.

  She smiled, and laughed out loud, a little nervously. Another blast from the past. This one perhaps not the most welcome of all.

  “Fiona McKenzie, now.” She smiled. “Barry, how are you?”

  She saw his eyes scan down, taking in Little Bump, and for a brief moment she registered what she could only think was a disappointment in his eyes.

  Which was true. Barry couldn’t believe how attractive Fiona still looked, but in the smallest instant of time possible, as soon as he saw how large Fiona was at the front, he knew that his outrageous fantasy of possibly snogging Fiona on the dance floor and having a quick ‘feel-up’ as they used to call it as teenagers, had gone from being not only extremely, incredibly unlikely to just plain impossible.

  He couldn’t climb over that to get near her, even if he tried.

  “Congratulations!” Barry exclaimed, the disappointment in his voice ruining all his attempts to sound enthusiastically surprised.

  “Thank you.” Fiona smiled, acknowledging his acknowledgment.

  “So… how have you been? How’s life treated you since school?” Barry asked, moving on, and surprising himself with the sincerity with which he transitioned into the normal mode of questioning for that evening. ‘Okay, so Plan A’s not happening,’ he said to himself, ‘but I do actually want to know about her life.’

  “Good. University. At Durham. Then some years in London working as an editor in a publishing house in London. Then I moved back up to Edinburgh and started working in a publishing house here. I still do it, sort of freelance.”

  “Wow. You always loved to read. You were the local book worm!” Barry remembered.

  “A few years back I got married, and now we’re just about to have Little Bump.”

  “Boy or girl?”

  “It’ll be a surprise. We prefer it that way. And you?”

  Barry hesitated. This was the bit he was dreading. He had nothing impressive to say.

  “I always loved Edinburgh, and could never really face moving away, so I just stayed. I married Irene Gillespie. Do you remember her?”

  “Wow. Yes. Congratulations! She was a real catch.”

  She seemed genuinely happy for him.

  Barry felt a warmth inside himself. He’d had this conversation several times this evening so far and everyone always lit up when he talked of Irene, several quite honestly saying that she was a real catch and joking that he’d obviously been punching above his weight.

  “Kids?” she asked, her hand stroking the surface of her own huge bump.

  “Two… ” Barry replied, before launching into an explanation of who his children were. He spoke with genuine pride for them, and even showed Fiona some photos on his phone.

  Barry talked of his life since school. Irene. His job. His house. This time all a little more positively than he’d ever described them before.

  A sudden feeling of guilt descended upon him. It dawned on him then just stupid he was, and also what a dishonest bastard he was, for fantasising like he had about trying to snog Fiona tonight. Irene had been brilliant to him. And this was how he’d treated her.

  “And where is Irene?” Fiona asked.

  “Good question,” Barry replied, scanning the room urgently.

  “Oh, there she is… I think that’s her. Over there, talking to Paul Bentford.” Fiona pointed across the room.

  A sudden quiver of panic shot through Barry as he turned and saw Irene and Paul together. It looked like he was just about to lead her to the dance floor, in response to the band just starting up.

  “Fiona, sorry, I’d better go… ” Barry started to excuse himself.

  What happened next both surprised and pleased Barry.

  Fiona reached out and touched him on his arm. At the same time, she leant forward and kissed him gently on the side of the cheek.

  “It was a pleasure to see you again, Barry. Good luck! You’re a very lucky man. You’ve been one of the successful ones, obviously. Say ‘Hi’ to Irene for me.”

  Barry paused.

  Smiled.

  And grew up.

  He’d been an ungrateful hypocritical, disrespectful prat.

  Seconds later he was heading over to Irene to save his marriage, a curious mix of fear and anger surging within him.

  Irene Quinn was his, and there’s was no way that Paul Bentford was going to cop a quick feel with his wife on the dance floor!

  Chapter 17

  The New Portobello High School

  Saturday

  21.15

  Willy Thomson hovered on the edge of the dance floor, scanning the faces of everyone to see if there was anyone who he might call a friend. Or for Scott Davies.

  He’d recognised quite a few people, but no one that he had anything in common with. He’d also noticed that most people chose not to see him. He’d seen the recognition in their eyes that he existed, but as soon as they clocked him, their eyes diverted in the other direction, or looked through him to an imaginary point beyond.

  The only positive to be taken from it all was that people remembered him. Obviously, he’d made an impression on them all those years before, and that impression still remained today.

  Surely that was a good thing?

  He’d taught them to respect him then, and obviously they still did.

  At school, Will had not been the school bully.

  There had been a strict pecking order, where a lesser bully looked up to the one above. Typically, the older bullies in the years above were highest in the ranking, but Willy had been different.

  Even in his second year of secondary school, with still another two years to go before he could legally leave, and with four years of pupils above him, Willy had been considered the third bully in the school.

  People were scared of him.

  He was a rough fighter.

  And unlike the animal kingdom where most animals didn’t fight battles which they might lose in case they got injured and could die from an infection of their wounds, Willy was different. Willy simply ‘didn’t give a fuck’.

  He often fought even when he knew he would lose. Just for the kudos of trying.

  For a perverted sense of entertainment.

  And to gain respect.

  Willy had been fighting all his life.

  Life was a battle, after all.

  Survival of the fittest.

  Before coming this evening, Willy had wondered if he might see Grant Patterson tonight. Or Scott Davies.

  Grant had been the No. 1 school bully. Scott had been the second.

  Standing on the edge, watching everyone else dance and have fun, Willy was excited.

  He was looking for Scott Davies for a reason.

  According to the pictures on one of the boards on the edge of the hall – it was a list of former pupils who had kicked the bucket since leaving school – Grant Patterson was now dead. He’d died several years back. There was a newspaper article pinned up, saying he was found dead full of bullet holes. Shot dead in connection with some drug stuff.

  Willy had smiled when he’d read that. It meant that he’d just gone up the pecking order. He was now the No 2 Bully.

  And if Scott Davies was not around, - maybe if he’d been killed too – then that would make him No 1!

  Willy couldn’t see him even though he’d been looking.

  As he stood scanning the crowd, Will started to feel really edgy. It was the anticipation. He didn’t like it.

  He needed something to take the edge of it.

  His fingers nervously felt the packet in his pocket, which was calling his name.

  He’d wanted to keep it till later, to take just before he did what he’d really come here to do this evening.


  Maybe he should take it now though. A quick visit to the toilets.

  A quick snort.

  Then he’d feel brilliant.

  And if he did meet Scott Davies, perhaps, he’d take care of him tonight too.

  Yeah, that was a good plan.

  Willy nodded to himself, smiled, and turned to go and find the bogs.

  Almost immediately he bumped into a tall, well-built man in a casual suit standing behind him. Willy was forced to look up into his face to see who it was. A set of perfect white teeth and a tanned face greeted him back.

  “Good grief! It’s Wee Willy!” the man said.

  Willy’s fists clenched. No bastard ever called him Wee Willy and got away with it. Wille’s willy wasn’t wee. It was massive… At school people had stopped daring to call him that, thanks to the lessons he’d dealt out to anyone who had.

  Looking up at this guy in front of him though, Willy wondered if he’d be able to give this guy a kicking or not. He wasn’t only tall, but he was obviously very fit.

  “You don’t recognise me, do you, wee Willy?”

  “Dinnae call me that, pal.”

  “Or what?” the man smiled back.

  “I’ll do you.”

  The man laughed.

  “You and whose army?”

  Willy’s mind froze. The expression the man had used immediately recalled memories.

  “I wondered if you’d remember that, Wee Willy.”

  “Dinna CALL me that, ya bampot!” Willy threatened again, squaring his shoulders and trying to be as tall as possible. “And no, I canna remember who the hell you are. Should I?”

  “Scott Davies.”

  Willy froze.

  “What? Scott Davies? Ye canna be. He wis small and fat!”

  “Yes, about twenty-five years ago. People grow up. Well, not everyone. You didn’t, did you, Wee Willy?”

  “Scott? What happened to you? You’re massive!” Willy asked, now genuinely in awe of how one person could change so much. He looked nothing like the Scott Davies he’d remembered.

  “Fancy a drink, Wee Willy? Do you want to go to the bar?” Scott asked, surprising Willy altogether.

  “Aye… actually, aye, that wid be braw.”

  They left the noisy hall and the dance music playing over the speakers and made their way to the bar in one of the rooms at the back.

  “Vodka, whisky or beer? Or all three?” Scott asked.

  “All three, if you’re serious!” Willy laughed.

  “In one glass, or three?”

  Willy thought about it for a second.

  “One. It’s a party, isn’t it?”

  “Ah… so it’s Mad Wee Willy, then. Not just ‘Wee’.”

  Willy hesitated.

  “I was just joking. Gees a beer.”

  “Please?”

  “Aye, please.”

  Scott got two beers and then moved across the bar area to a table and sat down.

  “Did you hear about Grant?” Willy asked, lifting up the beer and ‘cheersing’ Scott’s bottle by banging it on the bottom.

  “Yep. What a waste. Stupid bastard. So, how are you Willy, what are you up to?”

  “You know, surviving. Apart from that, nothing special. And you? Are you still up to no good? I haven’t heard about you in years. I thought you might have gone inside, or something.”

  “You thought I’d been sent down. To jail?”

  “Aye.”

  “Far from it. I thought you knew… ”

  “Knew what?”

  “I left school, gave up pissing around, and decided to make a go of my life. No more messing around, or hanging around with neds like you.”

  “I’m no a ned.”

  “Course you are. But’s it’s still possible to change. If I managed to, so can you!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I gave up being a loser, and became a winner.”

  “How?” Willy laughed. “Life ain’t that simple, mate.”

  “I never said it was simple, Willy. I just said I did it.”

  “So, what was this big thing you did then? How did you ‘change’ your life?” Willy asked, mimicking two big inverted commas in the air when he said the word change.

  “My dad convinced me that I needed to get a trade. You and me obviously weren’t the brains of the school back then, but that didn’t mean we were stupid, did it? It just meant we weren’t good at school stuff. So I left, got an apprenticeship and became a plumber. Then after working for other plumbers for years, I realised that instead of working for others, it would be better if I could get others working for me. So I quit, set up ‘Portobello Plumbers’ and I’ve never looked back!”

  “What?” Willy’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You OWN PORTOBELLO PLUMBING?”

  “Yes.”

  “But that’s massive. You’re bloody everywhere… I was in Glasgow last year, and I saw the adverts everywhere… !”

  “Yep. We’ve got forty shops and plumbing centres across Scotland and the North of England. And we’re expanding south.”

  “You must be bloody minted!” Willy couldn’t believe his ears.

  “I am.” Scott replied, without blinking, or smiling.

  Just a simple acknowledgement of the truth.

  “Shit… that’s amazing.”

  “Why, Willy? Why’s it amazing?”

  “Because… ”

  “Because you and I were no-hopers? Stupid-wee-bastards that everyone else had given up on? Listen to me, Willy,… ” Scott said, leaning forward and resting his hand upon Willy’s. “In this life, you can have anything you want. Anything. If you work hard, are willing to learn, and you’re no afraid to take some gambles along the way. As long as you don’t stop believing in yourself, you can do anything you want.”

  Willy was silent. Something amazing had happened to Scott Davies. The guy oozed power and charisma and wealth. And with his hand resting lightly on his, Willy felt a strange, intense intimacy that was really unsettling him to his core. Scott was speaking not to Willy, but right into him. Messing with his mind. Stirring up the emotions deep inside him.

  Challenging him.

  “Willy, I know what you’re thinking. But don’t think like that. No man is a loser. He loses ONLY if he wants to. One man, any man, no matter what background he comes from, can change the world. Think of all the world’s greatest leaders. They were just simple men, from simple backgrounds. Then they rose, became better versions of themselves, and became leaders of men. They changed, and became great. And so can you, Willy. So can you!”

  Willy shivered. He pulled his hand away from under Scott’s, and stood up.

  He suddenly felt really uncomfortable.

  “What are you doing? Are you gay or something?”

  Scott laughed.

  “See that woman over there at the bar, surrounded by those men? That’s my wife. She was Miss Scotland five years ago. Now she’s the mother of my two children.”

  “Wow… ” Willy uttered, glancing across at the most lovely woman he’d ever seen.

  “Okay, Willy, it was nice to see you.” Scott said, pushing back in his chair, standing up and taking another drink of the beer. He put it back down on the table. The bottle was only half-empty.

  “You going?” Willy replied, suddenly feeling that he didn’t want Scot to leave.

  “Got to. Sorry. I need to do the rounds and talk with a few others. Listen, I wanted to see you tonight, Willy. I remember you. And I wanted to say something to you. Everyone deserves a second chance. Everyone. And no one is ever too old to learn. I believe that. I’m recruiting for my apprenticeship scheme. It’s a special scheme to give back to the community. I’m offering a second chance to people who have the balls to take their life and turn it around. Who believe in themselves.”

  “What are you saying? I don’t understand!” Willy shook his head, suddenly feeling under pressure.

  “You still think you’re a loser Willy. Alwa
ys have, and still do. But I think there’s something more in you than that. You just need a good break and some support and encouragement. I’ve got a team of people who can help you become more than you are. If you want.”

  “Become what?”

  “A plumber. Get a trade, Willy. Learn to work with your hands and your brain. And then take charge of your own future!”

  Scott was holding out his hand. He was offering him a business card.

  “Think about it, Willy. And if you’re willing to make a fresh start, willing to learn and willing to work HARD, then call this number. Someone will take care of you, and you won’t regret it.”

  Willy took the card and stared at it.

  His hands were shaking.

  “Okay, well, I’ve said my piece, Willy. The rest is up to you. I wish you well!”

  And with that, Scott smiled, turned and walked away towards Miss Scotland, who’d broken off from those lusting around her, and was now waiting attentively for her husband to join her.

  Willy just stood there, gawping after them, his jaw wide open.

  A moment later, the crowds of ex-pupils closed around Scott and his wife and and they were gone.

  When Willy sat back down in his chair, he was shaking.

  He tried to swallow but found he couldn’t.

  Ten minutes later, he was still just sitting here.

  Emotionally a wreck. Feeling vulnerable. Overpowered. And challenged.

  The past ten minutes had been the most intense in his life.

  Wee Willy had just been offered a chance to become Big Willy.

  To shake off his past life, and reach for a new life in the future.

  For the first time in his life, Willy was really scared.

  Chapter 18

  The New Portobello High School

  Saturday

  21.45

  “Hi Everybody!” the voice boomed from the stage at the end of the hall. “Can I ask one of the stewards at the back to round up everyone from the bar and the foyer and bring them in here? It’s time for a few wee speeches. And then, afterwards, we’ll introduce the surprise band for this evening, and we’ll start rocking the rest of the night away!”