the yard. That’s more fresh air than he ever got sitting in here.’
‘You’re a cheery bugger,’ said Thomas.
‘He’s probably got a cell bigger than this . . . and better decorated.’
‘Leonard, Leonard, where would we be without you, eh? Always joking.’
‘Am I?’
‘You know you are,’ Paul said, lighting a cigarette and passing the pack on. ‘We’re all gutted, it’s a natural reaction.’
‘What is?’
‘Eh? Good man, Matthew. Put them down there, and chalk up another for yourself.’ Paul reached into his pocket for the wallet.
‘Where did all that cash come from, by the way?’ Leonard asked.
‘Never you mind.’ Paul winked and handed Matthew another ten. Matthew went back to the till.
‘You know,’ Paul said quietly, ‘I sometimes wonder how much Matthew hears.’
‘You mean how much he listens?’
‘Yes.’
‘Matthew’s all right.’
‘Well, he knows everything we talk about in here.’
‘We never talk jobs.’
‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying he’d . . . you know.’
‘What’s going on?’ Thomas asked, appearing not to follow things at all.
‘Just a natural reaction,’ said Philip. He was watching Paul hand out the drinks. ‘We’re all . . . something like this, it guts you, doesn’t it?’
‘All right, Thomas,’ Paul said, ‘get this down you, leave all your troubles behind. Leonard, another wee vodka. There’s the Irn-Bru, your decision, okay? You’re a free agent. All right there, Thomasino? Cough it up. Good man, now get that down you. Philip, one pint of delicious foaming spesh. Enough to quench the fire, eh?’
‘It’s never enough.’
‘Cheers, Paul.’
‘No, but it’s only natural, isn’t it?’ Paul said, not touching his own Black Heart. ‘I mean, natural to wonder, to ask yourself how the cops knew. It’s a reaction, we’ll get over it. Having trouble with that bottle-top, Leonard?’
‘You always screw the fucking thing back on too tight.’
‘Give it here.’
‘No, I can—’
‘Here, I’ll—’
‘ I can do it! ’
‘Whoah there, Leonard. Brakes on, pal, no need for this. Look, there it is, the top’s off. Amazing how strong you can get when you’re angry. Right then, everybody, good health.’
‘Cheers.’
‘All the best.’
‘Aye.’
‘Hiy, Matthew,’ Thomas called, ‘can you no’ open a window? It’s like a furnace in here.’ He turned to Paul. ‘Windows, they paint over them, you can’t open the things. Never would have happened in the old days. Sloppy these days, decorators. I mean, hot’s fine in the winter, but this isn’t winter.’
‘Hellish hot,’ Leonard agreed, calm again. ‘It’s always too hot in here.’
‘You could heat pies without a microwave.’
‘One of those ceiling fans would be nice,’ Paul said. ‘There used to be one, didn’t there?’
‘Did there?’
‘This was before your time, Leonard, before you came here. Up there it was, a big white electric fan.’
‘White electric?’
‘I mean painted white, run on electric.’
‘Right.’
‘I don’t know how you can put Irn-Bru in that.’
‘You want me to drink it neat?’
‘Christ, don’t be so . . . look, just do what—’
‘I like Irn-Bru.’
‘Me too,’ said Philip.
‘Ach, everyone likes Irn-Bru . . . but with vodka?’
‘I used to drink it that way at school,’ Leonard said. ‘I’d steal some voddy from the drinks cabinet and mix it in an Irn-Bru bottle.’
‘Drinks cabinet, eh? Your family had class, Leonard.’
‘Didn’t stop him turning into a criminal at an early age.’
‘I was born a criminal.’
‘Isn’t everybody?’ Philip said, deep into his drink.
‘No,’ said Leonard, ‘some people have to learn. Anthony wasn’t a born criminal.’
‘You don’t think so?’
‘He told me so. He ran with his big brother’s gang. He was okay till he started running with them.’
‘His brother Donny?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘You don’t see him in
‘You’re a cheery bugger,’ said Thomas.
‘He’s probably got a cell bigger than this . . . and better decorated.’
‘Leonard, Leonard, where would we be without you, eh? Always joking.’
‘Am I?’
‘You know you are,’ Paul said, lighting a cigarette and passing the pack on. ‘We’re all gutted, it’s a natural reaction.’
‘What is?’
‘Eh? Good man, Matthew. Put them down there, and chalk up another for yourself.’ Paul reached into his pocket for the wallet.
‘Where did all that cash come from, by the way?’ Leonard asked.
‘Never you mind.’ Paul winked and handed Matthew another ten. Matthew went back to the till.
‘You know,’ Paul said quietly, ‘I sometimes wonder how much Matthew hears.’
‘You mean how much he listens?’
‘Yes.’
‘Matthew’s all right.’
‘Well, he knows everything we talk about in here.’
‘We never talk jobs.’
‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying he’d . . . you know.’
‘What’s going on?’ Thomas asked, appearing not to follow things at all.
‘Just a natural reaction,’ said Philip. He was watching Paul hand out the drinks. ‘We’re all . . . something like this, it guts you, doesn’t it?’
‘All right, Thomas,’ Paul said, ‘get this down you, leave all your troubles behind. Leonard, another wee vodka. There’s the Irn-Bru, your decision, okay? You’re a free agent. All right there, Thomasino? Cough it up. Good man, now get that down you. Philip, one pint of delicious foaming spesh. Enough to quench the fire, eh?’
‘It’s never enough.’
‘Cheers, Paul.’
‘No, but it’s only natural, isn’t it?’ Paul said, not touching his own Black Heart. ‘I mean, natural to wonder, to ask yourself how the cops knew. It’s a reaction, we’ll get over it. Having trouble with that bottle-top, Leonard?’
‘You always screw the fucking thing back on too tight.’
‘Give it here.’
‘No, I can—’
‘Here, I’ll—’
‘ I can do it! ’
‘Whoah there, Leonard. Brakes on, pal, no need for this. Look, there it is, the top’s off. Amazing how strong you can get when you’re angry. Right then, everybody, good health.’
‘Cheers.’
‘All the best.’
‘Aye.’
‘Hiy, Matthew,’ Thomas called, ‘can you no’ open a window? It’s like a furnace in here.’ He turned to Paul. ‘Windows, they paint over them, you can’t open the things. Never would have happened in the old days. Sloppy these days, decorators. I mean, hot’s fine in the winter, but this isn’t winter.’
‘Hellish hot,’ Leonard agreed, calm again. ‘It’s always too hot in here.’
‘You could heat pies without a microwave.’
‘One of those ceiling fans would be nice,’ Paul said. ‘There used to be one, didn’t there?’
‘Did there?’
‘This was before your time, Leonard, before you came here. Up there it was, a big white electric fan.’
‘White electric?’
‘I mean painted white, run on electric.’
‘Right.’
‘I don’t know how you can put Irn-Bru in that.’
‘You want me to drink it neat?’
‘Christ, don’t be so . . . look, just do what—’
‘I like Irn-Bru.’
‘Me too,’ said Philip.
‘Ach, everyone likes Irn-Bru . . . but with vodka?’
‘I used to drink it that way at school,’ Leonard said. ‘I’d steal some voddy from the drinks cabinet and mix it in an Irn-Bru bottle.’
‘Drinks cabinet, eh? Your family had class, Leonard.’
‘Didn’t stop him turning into a criminal at an early age.’
‘I was born a criminal.’
‘Isn’t everybody?’ Philip said, deep into his drink.
‘No,’ said Leonard, ‘some people have to learn. Anthony wasn’t a born criminal.’
‘You don’t think so?’
‘He told me so. He ran with his big brother’s gang. He was okay till he started running with them.’
‘His brother Donny?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘You don’t see him in
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