Tombstoning

by Unknown

  As she was getting a goodnight kiss from Amy, the phone had rung. It was David. It was obvious straight away that he was reasonably drunk, which didn’t surprise or bother her. She knew he’d been at the football in the afternoon, and she drank the best part of a bottle of wine with her tea, partly to keep up with him and partly, she surprised herself by thinking, because she was a bit nervous. Nervous about the reunion, and a bit nervous of meeting up with him again after last night. It was just a kiss, that’s all it was at the moment, but it was a damn nice kiss, and she probably wouldn’t mind a few more like that.

  He said he was running late and she’d agreed to meet him here, telling herself that it was ridiculous to need someone else for support. She was regretting that decision. She had wandered in and found the segregated reunion area, had her name ticked off by the bouncer and headed straight to the bar, only turning to see who else was in once she had a drink in her hand. Now she spotted a couple of people from the Lochlands last night, and just as she was about to make her way over, Kirsty suddenly appeared in front of her.

  At school Kirsty Boyd had always had the airs of an American prom queen. She’d been short and trim, with big teeth and bigger hair. Tonight the haircut was more restrained (and about ten times more expensive, judging by the highlights running through it) but her figure was just the same, as was the plastic smile spread across her face, hiding a venomous tongue and a more poisonous mind. Kirsty had been the driving force behind this whole reunion, and Nicola suspected that she’d done it entirely to show off her own currently affluent situation and apparently perfect family life.

  Kirsty was married to a square-jawed man who had made his money in construction and now owned the controlling share of a Scottish premier league football club, making him the youngest football director in the country. She lived a few miles out of town in a custom-built house with far too many bedrooms, all en suite, situated perfectly amid mature woodland, with a sea view, a jacuzzi, an indoor pool and a playroom with an enormous drinks cabinet. She had two small children that the nanny took care of while she was off doing charity work or fucking her fitness instructor. It was half Footballers’ Wives, half Stepford Wives, and it was all awful. Nicola wasn’t jealous of Kirsty, she was just wary of her presence and her motivations. She had seen Kirsty backbiting and scheming too many times, both at school and when she lived in Arbroath with Amy. She mirrored Kirsty’s fake smile and took a drink.

  ‘Nicola, hi! How are you?’

  Air kiss, air kiss.

  ‘Good, thanks, Kirsty, and you?’

  ‘Oh, fantastic. Isn’t it great seeing everyone together again like this? Everyone keeps thanking me for organizing it, but you know it wouldn’t have happened without everyone turning up. I’m just glad that so many people responded to my idea of having it.’

  She took a delicate sip of what appeared to be a glass of white wine. It was the first time Nicola had ever seen anyone drinking wine in Bally’s. Why had she arranged for the reunion to be here? Unless she had some kind of ulterior motive that Nicola couldn’t fathom.

  ‘And how are you, Nicola? How’s single parenthood treating you?’

  ‘Oh, you know, pretty damn good, I guess.’

  ‘I know it’s old fashioned to think so, but I have to say it’s so brave of you to bring up little Amy on your own. I mean, it can’t have been easy with her dad on the other side of the world and not interested in the pair of you.’

  ‘We do OK, thanks,’ said Nicola through gritted teeth.

  ‘And how is Amy? Enjoying school?’

  ‘Yeah, getting on great. Causing trouble, as per usual, but no more than any other kid.’

  ‘My two are absolute angels at the moment. They’re no trouble at all, they behave themselves so well I really don’t know where they get it from because Ian and I can both be so naughty if we want to be.’

  Jesus Christ, thought Nicola, please let me get out of this conversation and back to the bar.

  ‘Did you come down on your own?’

  ‘Erm, well… ’ said Nicola, looking round.

  ‘How brave, but then you always were a brave one, weren’t you? Dashing round the world like that for an adventure and coming back with a baby! Why don’t you come over and have a gossip with the ladies. We’re just over here.’

  Nicola felt a hand on her back lightly but firmly pushing her towards Kirsty’s little coven of sycophants, the girls who had never managed or wanted to escape from the thrall of Kirsty’s influence. Anita Milne, Lesley Masson and Claire Pollock were virtually indistinguishable from each other, their highlighted, shoulder-length hair, neat designer outfits and buffed appearance pathetically mirroring Kirsty‘s. Nicola would rather speak to just about anybody else than this lot, but she could feel herself getting sucked towards them.

  ‘All right, ladies, how’s it going?’

  Nicola suddenly felt Kirsty’s hand fall away as David’s presence split them up, and he stood swaying slightly in between them. Kirsty was quick to react.

  ‘David Lindsay! How are you?’

  She made to air kiss him, but David ducked nimbly out the way. The resultant awkward physicality of Kirsty as she tried to right herself made Nicola smirk.

  ‘My, we haven’t seen you around these parts since – when would it have been? – well, since Colin’s funeral, I suppose.’

  ‘Straight to the point, Kirsty, just like I remember,’ said David. ‘I’m fine, thank you for asking. And I haven’t been here since then, you are absolutely correct. But it’s great to be back. You are looking fantastic, if I may say so, Kirsty. How do you get your hair to do that?’

  David waved a hand towards Kirsty’s head, and a brief look of panic crossed her face as she thought he was actually going to run his fingers through her hair. She regained her composure and ignored his comment. Her gaze focussed on David’s other hand, which was lingering on Nicola’s back as the three of them stood there, like a polite Mexican stand-off. Eventually David spoke.

  ‘If you don’t mind, Kirsty, and despite the fact that you’re looking fantastic – did I say that already? Well, you can’t hear that sort of thing often enough, that’s what I always say – anyway, if you don’t mind, Kirsty, I have some urgent business to discuss with Nicola. I have to get her as drunk as me. So if you’ll excuse us, you fantastic-looking woman, I’m going to take her over there’ – he pointed generally over his shoulder to nothing in particular – ‘and buy her drinks. It’s been great meeting you again. Save a dance for me later on, will you?’

  With that David grabbed Nicola’s hand and headed towards the bar. Kirsty watched them go with a sly look in her eyes, and turned to go and spread the gossip she thought she knew.

  ‘You’re drunk,’ said Nicola.

  ‘Absolutely correct, but actually I’m not nearly as drunk as I was pretending to be just then. I thought you needed rescuing from scary, plastic features over there.’

  ‘You were right about that.’

  ‘And I wasn’t lying. I do intend to get you more drunk.’

  ‘Good, because I fully intend to allow myself to be made more drunk.’

  ‘Then life is sweet. What have I missed round here?’

  Nicola looked around her at the horror of Bally’s. If she wasn’t mistaken that was Atomic Kitten playing. She could see Kirsty and her cabal in close consultation.

  ‘Fuck all. Let’s get a drink in.’

  Three shooters and Nicola was just about all caught up with David in the drunk stakes. The pair of them had started schmoozing around a few other people at the reunion, including some of the crew from the Lochlands the previous night, swapping small talk as they drifted around, separate but keeping a close watch on each other’s movements. They fell into different conversations but their communal two-way booze round kept them loosely tethered to each other, deliberately so.

  David was talking football with Gary and a couple of other guys that he hadn’t known too well at school. One of them was nicknamed P
lunge at school – David never knew why – but now introduced himself as Dean. The other guy was called Jonathan something, David forgot what, and his chin still stuck out like Bruce Forsyth. David’s only memory of Jonathan was seeing him running about at Andy MacDougall’s house party with a kitchen knife, screaming at the top of his voice that he was going to circumcise himself. They got the knife off him pretty quickly. That was the same party where Andy himself got locked in the bog and had to jump out the first-floor window. Strange night, David vaguely recalled.

  He felt a slap on the back and turned to see the leering, perspiring face of Mike Clarkson. Clarkson had been a royal pain in the arse at school, a hardnut who bullied the hell out of the no-marks and nobodies. He wasn’t tough enough to be in the big league, but he had enough balls to bully most people at school, and enough pals to back him up if necessary. David’s friendship with Neil had made him less of a target for Mike, but he was still the subject of plenty of verbal from the guy, as was just about everyone else in their year. And here he was now, that same over-confident swagger to him, the same cautious eyes and tensed neck muscles, the same button-down collared shirt and crew-cut hair, the same pathetic need to get one over on everyone in the basest way possible. There might be plenty of good reasons for coming to a school reunion, but Mike Clarkson sure as shit wasn’t one of them.

  ‘David, how’s it hanging?’

  ‘Mike.’

  ‘Haven’t seen you round these parts for years,’ said Mike. ‘Since Colin died, eh? Nasty business that, right enough. Don’t blame you for buggering off, I suppose, having your best friend commit suicide.’

  ‘He didn’t commit suicide,’ said David with a sigh. ‘It was an accident.’

  ‘Well, that’s one way of looking at it, I suppose. The inquiry would say that, wouldn’t it? No point in making his folks more unhappy about it than they already were.’

  ‘It was an accident, Mike.’

  ‘There were folk that suggested he was pushed as well. I suppose that could’ve happened. How would anyone know? We all know what the cliffs are like, it would be easy as fuck to trick someone up there, shove them over and that would be that.’

  ‘No one tricked anyone, or pushed anyone,’ said Gary.

  ‘Maybe someone who was jealous of him,’ Mike continued. ‘Jealous of everything he had that they didn’t. It’s possible, you can’t deny that.’

  ‘Like Gary said, no one pushed anyone, Mike,’ said David.

  ‘When you suddenly disappeared after the funeral, David, there were rumours that you’d had something to do with it. I never paid those rumours any fucking mind. That would be ridiculous, I used to say, David wouldn’t have had anything to do with Colin’s death.’

  ‘That’s touching, Mike, really.’

  ‘And anyway, he most probably just topped himself, didn’t he? People do it all the time. The suicide rate amongst blokes in this country is through the fucking roof. Of course, there is another possibility. Maybe he jumped off for a thrill and fucked it up. Kids have started doing that, you know, they’re calling it tombstoning.’

  ‘Yeah, we heard,’ said Gary. ‘But that’s not what Colin did.’

  ‘We’ll never know, will we? It’s a right fucking mystery. Must’ve been hard for you though, David, living with the death of your best mate, your bosom buddy, your special little friend that you went everywhere with.’

  ‘Are you trying to say something?’ said David.

  ‘Like what?’ Mike couldn’t pull off a pretend innocent look without smirking.

  ‘Like that me and Colin were gay.’

  ‘I never said that, did I?’ He turned to the others. ‘Did I say that? Did I?’ He waited for an answer, and after a few seconds of silence turned back to David. ‘I never fucking said that, OK? And even if you were, what fucking difference would it make? Unless it was having a dirty, hidden secret that made Colin top himself. Couldn’t stand living the lie any more and all that shit.’

  ‘You’re a fucking joke,’ said David, and the air chilled.

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘You heard me.’

  They stared blankly at each other as the beat of some cheesy dancefloor-filler throbbed all around them, their faces close enough to smell the booze on each other’s breath. Eventually Mike broke the spell, chuckling to himself and downing what was left of his bottle of Sol.

  ‘Watch yourself, David, you cheeky cunt,’ he said, pointing with his bottle hand. ‘Just watch yourself.’

  He turned and sauntered towards the bar and the vacuum he left was filled with slightly nervous exhalations. Jonathan and Plunge had been hiding wide-eyed behind their pints, hoping Mike would ignore them. Gary glared at Mike’s back as he walked away, muttering ‘fucking prick’ under his breath. David just shook his head and smiled at the ridiculousness of it all.

  Nicola was washing her hands in the toilets when Kirsty and her entourage swanned in. This was not a coincidence.

  ‘Nicola!’ Kirsty declared it as if surprised to see her. ‘Great timing, we’re just about to have a cheeky wee line of Uncle Charlie, why don’t you join us?’

  She pulled out a wrap, unfolded it and started chopping out lines of white powder as Anita watched the toilet door and the other two pretended to relax at either side of her. It was like being back in the school bogs, thought Nicola. She hadn’t snorted anything in years. She had been quite partial to a bit of speed in her student days, and tried various things while travelling, but all that had stopped with Amy. But then here was Kirsty with a couple of kids younger than Amy, and a couple of grams in her pocket. Nicola had never really taken to coke anyway, its price always seemed way out of proportion to the effect. It was the narcotic equivalent of a Prada bag, a rather tacky and ultimately pointless demonstration of wealth in the face of those that didn’t have it.

  ‘I’m all right, thanks.’

  ‘Very wise, I’m sure,’ said Kirsty. ‘You’re so responsible.’

  ‘No, I just don’t like coke.’

  ‘But I did notice there was something you did like out there,’ continued Kirsty, getting out a note and rolling it. ‘Or rather someone.’ She took a blast, then the other nostril, then did the sniffing thing so as not to lose the coke snot. She passed the note to Claire. ‘I couldn’t help seeing that you and David Lindsay seem to be getting on well.’

  Nicola sighed. ‘He’s OK. We’re just friends.’

  ‘It looked like you thought he was more than OK earlier on. Anything we should know about?’

  ‘What, in your official position as town gossip, you mean?’

  ‘Nicola Cruickshank, there’s no need to be like that, I was only asking. I don’t know what you see in him, myself, he’s hardly catch of the day, is he? But then I suppose as a single mum you can’t be too choosy about which men you let into your life.’

  ‘Now, Kirsty, that is just plain rude.’

  ‘Not at all, dear, I’m sorry if you took offence. I didn’t mean anything by it.’

  ‘Didn’t you?’

  ‘I didn’t as it happens. You’re being very hostile, you know that? I don’t know why you’re being so defensive, unless you’ve got something to hide.’

  ‘Whatever, Kirsty. It doesn’t really matter what I say, does it? You’re going to assume that me and David have a thing going, aren’t you?’

  ‘And would I be wrong if I assumed that?’

  Nicola sighed again and thought about leaving, but something kept her there. By this time the note had been passed round all four girls and back to Kirsty. There was still a line cut out in front of them and Kirsty offered the note to Nicola.

  ‘Sure I can’t tempt you?’

  ‘I told you, Kirsty, I’m not a fan of coke. Turns people into gobby, arrogant arseholes, as far as I can tell.’

  ‘Now who’s being rude?’ said Kirsty with a smile, before quickly ducking down to hoover up the last line and sniffling. ‘And how does David feel about Amy? He does know about her, doesn’
t he?’

  Nicola let out a small snort of a laugh. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, Kirsty, but yes, he does know about her.’

  ‘And they get on OK? I mean, it’s such a lot to take on, someone else’s daughter. I suppose you both living in Edinburgh makes things easier.’

  ‘Kirsty, I haven’t said there’s anything going on, have I?’

  ‘Well, isn’t there?’

  Nicola shook her head. What was the point?

  ‘There is nothing going on between me and David. Is that clear enough for you?’

  ‘I think the lady protests too much, what do you think, girls?’

  ‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ said Nicola, tired of the exchange. She pushed herself up from the sink she was leaning against. ‘If you’re quite finished slagging off me and my…’

  ‘Yes?’ said Kirsty. ‘Your what?’

  ‘My friend,’ said Nicola, deliberately. ‘Then I’ll get out your way.’

  She pushed past Kirsty, then Anita at the door, letting the throb of the dance music briefly enter the toilets as she swung out. She headed off towards David, who was within spilling distance of the bar and talking to a little goblin of a man she recognized as Gary Spink.

  ‘Nicola, you remember Gary, right?’

  ‘Hi Gary, long time no see.’

  ‘You’re looking great, Nicola.’

  ‘Thanks. Are you the man responsible for getting muggins here shapeless this afternoon?’

  ‘Well, it was a quiet pint really, but you know how these things can escalate.’

  ‘I do indeed. I’m away to get a round in, what are you both having?’

  She went to the bar, and David felt a mixture of pride and irritation as he watched Gary’s gaze follow her arse.

  ‘She’s looking great, isn’t she?’ said Gary. ‘She seemed pretty friendly with you. Something going on there I should know about?’