Stephan’s nipped off round the corner home for his money which he forgot – to pay for all the pints we’ve had and the nachos. We teased out Dorito crisps from under layers of molten cheese, let the whole thing go soggy and corrupt with salsa and guacamole, all stirred into one. Heaps and hoops of sliced jalapenos. Stevie Wonder’s playing as I wait – I fucking love Stevie Wonder, I’ve decided – and the place is full of dykes and that – everyone together. They’ve repainted this place bright orange, even though it’s called ‘Scarlet’. I’ll have to say that to Big Bill tonight when I drag Stephan home for our first night together. I’ll say, Ow, Bill, you’ve got the fucking colour of your cafe walls wrong. But he’s about to be my boss.
I love lager these days. Never used to.
Letter from Penny yesterday morning. Don’t know how she found me but she wants to see me. Things are happening at home. Something’s happening to Liz but Penny’s writing’s so bad and the card’s so small that I can’t properly tell what she’s on about. She sent me a painting by Paul Klee, ‘Bird Wandering Off’. There’s a cartoon duck thing striding off the edge of the page. Made me laugh. But she can’t come up to visit. Says how worried she is about me. But they’ve all left me long enough without getting in touch. None of them even know that Jep exists. I can exist without everyone in Phoenix Court. We both can.
One thing I can make out for definite in her card: she shagged Mark Kelly. She shagged the man with tattoos all over. Fucking bitch! I can’t even work out what I think about that yet. I’m not very happy, though. I can’t say he’s mine, but he shouldn’t be hers. And I can’ t help thinking Penny shagged him because I wanted to and couldn’t anymore. In some twisted, tucked-up, stupid way, she’s made this into a competition. What a fuck-up! And she added, ‘It doesn’t mean anything. It was just a fantastic shag.’
It was so fucking easy for her.
Burt Bacharach playing now. It’s all easy listening. Taking the piss out of easy.
I stewed over Mark and Penny, Penny and Mark, all day yesterday. I saw Sandra and Tom. They came round. Sandra knows Big Bill ’cause she sold him paintings once for this cafe. He likes new, big paintings. The flat is full of them. Abstracts in the toilets, in the uncarpeted hallway. Tom and Sandra respect Big Bill’s money, but they look down at him, think he’s common. I told Sandra about Penny, but she never understood. I explained that Mark Kelly, the feller with the tattoos, was Jep’s other father, and Sandra just looked at me. Like, now that I don’t live beside then, they can stop taking me seriously.
So I went out last night as well and got smashed. Proving I didn’t need to be with anyone else. Sure that everyone fucks up and betrays you. And they do. Where’s Stephan with that money from home he’s meant to be fetching?
I was in the back of the bar last night at one in the morning, kissing some bloke I’ve never met before – that was Stephan. He was wearing a sling for broken collarbone saying, “I really like you,” and I’m saying, “You taste really nice,” because he did, he tasted of Marlboro Lights. He got bad hiccups and looked like he was going to throw up. He is taller than me, painfully thin, and the sling made him look like a damaged starling.
So we met today in that ‘Over the Rainbow’ bar, where they give you lollies and lovehearts with your pint – except they don’t do pints, just cans they charge double the price for. There’s a big fuck-off fairy with a wand in the window and we started to get pissed. He was shaking with nerves the whole time, could hardly speak, and so I kept talking. I ended up telling him all about Phoenix Court, Vince, Penny, Mark, and Liz in a coma. I didn’t tell him a single word about Jep. It got dark out there on Broughton Street very suddenly and he was only wearing a trendy white skintight top. Dressing os hard with that sling of his. He’s a chef – a chef! – in a smart bar and he’s got two months to get mended and pulled together.
Here the waiter has asked me, “Are you reeling and fucking dizzy yet?” And I order two more pints. “You’re fucking lushes, you two.” He smiles, and I smile back because at first I thought he said luscious.
When we came home he said simply, “What do you want to do now?”
The two Bills were out. We had sex on the kitchen’s stone floor. We sat up clasping each other by the washing machine. Under the harsh kitchen light he was almost tangerine. His home tan. He says he has a sun bed in his bedroom. I realised what a toned body he has. His dick, yard long, stuck out from him, looking ridiculous. We were drunk and we passed out before we came and woke up an hour later. We finished each other off then as if there’d been no break. I said, anyone could have walked in. We went to my bed and that’s when he saw Jep, in the Habitat crib in the corner. Did I say that Big Bill had bought a Habitat crib?
“It’s a fuckin’ puma!” Stephan mumbled. His enunciation is terrible. This thick Aberdeen accent. I have to ask for everything twice.
My skin’s gone blotchy through lack of sleep. But I’m having a nice time.
Saturday I left Jep with Tom and Sandra and I was meant to pick him up at teatime. It was Big Bill’s birthday and we were in the cellar of the oyster bar,
