The Ossians
Page 32
‘Kate and Danny seem to be doing well,’ said Hannah. Why was she bringing this up now? Didn’t they have more important things to discuss?
‘From what I hear.’
The new couple seemed to be flourishing, from what little Connor knew. Kate was still hardly talking to him, but she and Danny had spent almost all of the last ten days in each other’s company, according to Danny. They mostly kept out of Connor’s way, for their own sake, no doubt, as he was so miserable around the flat. He was glad they stayed away, because despite wishing them all the best together, the sight of them in the first stages of love only highlighted how bad his relationship with Hannah was. If there was even still a relationship there.
‘How was the police stuff?’ said Hannah after a while.
‘Fine. I didn’t tell them anything, they didn’t have any evidence on me, and they let me off with a warning.’
‘What about the other stuff? The bikes and everything?’
‘They never mentioned it, so neither did I.’
‘And what about that dealer and his mate?’
‘Locked up for a long time, as far as I can gather.’ Connor looked Hannah in the eyes. ‘Did you want me to confess everything to the police? All that other shit? Because I would, if that’s what you wanted.’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Hannah. ‘What would be the point? You got lucky, Con, make the most of it.’
‘I intend to.’
‘Speaking of which, I hear you’re trying to dry out.’
‘Trying.’
‘How’s it going?’
‘OK.’
Hannah looked at him pointedly.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. Do you want specifics or something?’
‘Actually, specifics would be good.’
Connor hesitated a moment. He didn’t have a leg to stand on, now or ever.
‘No speed, coke or pills at all since we got back. Smoked a lot of weed to begin with, but cut down, and haven’t had a joint in two days. Same with booze. Haven’t had more than four or five drinks a night, gradually cut down, and had my first dry day yesterday.’
‘I’m impressed.’
‘And surprised?’
‘And surprised.’
‘Not as surprised as me.’
‘How do you feel?’
‘Strange. Everything is so sharp and in focus. My body feels like it’s been battered to fuck.’
‘Your body has been battered to fuck.’
‘That’s true.’
‘I heard about the stomach ulcers.’
‘Yeah, the middle-aged businessman’s medical complaint.’
‘Are you taking anything for them?’
‘Some big, chalky tablets. Tried snorting them, but didn’t get anything. That’s a joke, by the way.’
Hannah smiled, and the sight of it made Connor’s brain fizz.
‘I realised that was a joke. I know you pretty well, Con.’
‘I guess you do.’
She looked him up and down.
‘You could do with putting on some weight, you know.’
‘I know. But I don’t have much appetite.’
‘You’re not about to go anorexic on me, are you?’
Now it was Connor’s turn to smile.
‘I don’t think so, somehow. You look amazing, by the way.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I mean it.’
‘I know you do.’
They didn’t talk for a while, letting the sounds of Christmas revelry and traffic noise wash over them. The lights on the Ferris wheel began flashing different colours.
‘What about the band?’ asked Hannah.
‘The band’s finished.’
‘I assumed as much.’
Connor hadn’t officially split up The Ossians, but everyone knew it was over. As if through some kind of telepathy, they’d all clearly realised it was finished, without having to mention it. Paul phoned Tut’s after a couple of days, trying to get their gear back, but the manager told him they were hanging on to it, payment in kind for the damage done and the mayhem caused. What were they going to do, complain to the police? It was also made perfectly clear that The Ossians needn’t try to play anywhere in Scotland ever again. A day later, Paul received a light-hearted phone message from the head of K2, saying that while he’d enjoyed the, ahem, full-on nature of the show, he just wasn’t into the music enough. It didn’t matter, of course.
‘I heard you lost your job,’ said Hannah.
Connor hadn’t bothered going into the record shop or phoning in since his return, too busy trying to keep it together, and thinking about Hannah.
‘No great loss,’ he shrugged.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Something’ll turn up.’
‘Tell me something. Did you find what you were looking for? With the band and the tour?’
Connor thought for a moment.
‘No, I don’t think I did.’
Hannah looked at him. ‘What are you smiling about?’
‘Actually, I was just thinking I learned something from Martin.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I think I learned how to grow up.’
‘You learned how to grow up from a fifteen-year-old boy?’
‘Yeah.’
His smile dissolved. The Ferris wheel continued to turn and the world turned with it. In the sky beyond the Scott monument a solitary plane banked, its lonely lights blinking softly in the nothingness.
Hannah had run out of avoidance tactics.
‘Connor, I’ve got something to tell you.’ She couldn’t look at him while she spoke, and felt her pulse thumping in her ears and her throat, making it hard to get the words out. She’d imagined this moment a thousand times over the last ten days, but she’d never once worked out what Connor’s reaction might be, or what she wanted it to be, for that matter. ‘I’m pregnant.’
Connor’s head swam and the world seemed to go blurry. He felt the blood moving through his veins a little faster as he looked across at her. She was looking down and picking at her knees.
‘That’s great news,’ he said. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘I’m not sure. I think so.’
She looked up at him and Connor saw tears in her eyes. He wouldn’t blame her if she never wanted to see him again. He’d been a pathetic little shit for so long he doubted that he knew any other way to live. But he wanted to sort his shit out, he was sorting his shit out. He wanted to look after her and love her and do all the things that normal people do. But he also knew that just saying those things wasn’t going to make any fucking difference, not after the way he’d behaved. He had to show her. He was determined to do that.
Hannah didn’t know if she and Connor had a future together, but she’d already decided she had a future with this baby. She was keeping it. Whether the three of them could be a family, after everything that had happened, she just didn’t know.
He reached out for her hand and she let him hold it. Their carriage reached the top of the Ferris wheel and they could see the Christmas lights strung out down Princes Street like glistening threads into the unknown. Connor didn’t know what to do next. He watched her as she looked into the distance. After a while he turned and followed her gaze. The plane had disappeared from view. They sat in silence for a long time, staring at nothing.
Acknowledgements
Eternal gratitude to Judy Moir and Lucy Luck for their incredible passion and astute advice, and to everyone at Penguin for their enthusiasm. Immeasurable thanks, as always, to my wife, Trish, for her love, encouragement and belief.
The writer acknowledges support from the Scottish Arts Council towards the writing of this book.
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