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Authors: David F. Ross
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himself. Somethin’ he’d always wanted tae dae, but never got the chance.’
‘Ah didnae ken he’d wanted tae join the Army!’ said Gary.
‘Naw, go an’ get a
tattoo,
’ laughed Hettie. This made the proud Scots Guardsman laugh as well, before pushing his sister over onto her side then leaning over and gently and repeatedly dummy-punching her left upper arm.
‘Gary, stop it.
Stop!
Ah’ll pee myself,’ she giggled. Gary eventually let her up and they sat side-by-side on his black donkey jacket, gazing out over the Firth of Clyde, neither of them speaking until Hettie eventually broke the silence.
‘So, a lassie, then? Ye kept
this
quiet. C’mon, spill. Whit’s her name? Whit’s she like?’
Gary blushed a bit. He’d been partly hoping she hadn’t fully heard him.
‘Ah dunno if anythin’ll come ae it. She works in a hotel near the barracks. Ah saw her a couple of times when the platoon was out runnin’. Then, later, we got talkin’.’ Gary turned away. He wasbeginning to wish he’d kept this part of his life a secret.
‘Has she actually
got
a name?’ asked Hettie, prodding her brother in the ribs.
‘Eh … aye, it’s Debbie.’
‘Anything else? Any distinguishin’ marks? Facial ticks? Whit does her dad do?’
‘Jesus Christ, Hets. It’s probably nuthin’. I like her but we’ve only been out the once.’
‘Ye’ve been out wi’ her … and that’s me just finding out about it? Aw those bloody borin’ letters about marchin’ and funny chinstraps an’ ye miss
this
out!’ Hettie was enjoying tormenting her brother and she could see he was also trying hard to suppress a smile. She beamed as she began to realise that, for the first time in ages, he was genuinely happy.
‘We went for a walk through St James’s Park a coupla’ weeks ago. It was freezin’, but really great, ken? Had a coffee an’ that, an’ talked for ages.’ He could sense Hettie was desperate for more information. He decided she deserved to hear it.
‘You’d like her Het. She reminds me a lot ae’ you. Her mam’s an artist. She was born in India. No sure whit ‘er dad does but ah think it’s somethin’ along the same lines as Stan May. She’s lived in aw these bizarre places like Cairo an’ Marrakech an’ that. Loads more ah huvnae even heard ae.’ Gary was aware that Hettie was enthralled by this and that she would already be thinking about when they could meet and visit an art gallery together. Gary kept going.
‘Her dad was really sick, so they came back tae Wakefield when she was fifteen. But they didnae settle.
Nomads,
she calls them. So they’re aw doon in London now an’ she’s working for a wee while before college after the summer. That’s about it.’ Gary sat back as if in need of respite after an emotional confession.
‘Age?’ asked Hettie.
‘Twenty-two … naw -three, ah think.’
‘Ye huvnae asked? Whit if her birthday’s next week when ye goback? When are ye seein’ her again?’ Hettie was becoming a touch impatient at her brother’s apparent lack of direct action.
‘Ah’m no sure. Nothing really planned.’ Hettie found this too much.
‘Nothin’ planned? Jesus, Gary, how many girlfriends have you actually had?’
Gary formed the words to answer without appreciating the rhetorical nature of the question.
‘No that many that ye can afford tae play the
hard-tae-get,
ah’d have thought!’ continued Hettie. ‘When ye were talking about her there, yer face was glowin’. Whit’s the matter wi’ ye?
Get in there!
’
This last phrase was designed to make him laugh. When talking to Joey Miller, Bobby used it as a catchphrase so often that Gary and Hettie had made a pact that they would have it inscribed on his gravestone. Unusually, though, Gary didn’t laugh this time.
‘Ah’m no really wantin’ it tae get too serious just now,’ said Gary. Hettie suspected something important was coming so she let the resultant pause play itself out.
‘It looks like
‘Ah didnae ken he’d wanted tae join the Army!’ said Gary.
‘Naw, go an’ get a
tattoo,
’ laughed Hettie. This made the proud Scots Guardsman laugh as well, before pushing his sister over onto her side then leaning over and gently and repeatedly dummy-punching her left upper arm.
‘Gary, stop it.
Stop!
Ah’ll pee myself,’ she giggled. Gary eventually let her up and they sat side-by-side on his black donkey jacket, gazing out over the Firth of Clyde, neither of them speaking until Hettie eventually broke the silence.
‘So, a lassie, then? Ye kept
this
quiet. C’mon, spill. Whit’s her name? Whit’s she like?’
Gary blushed a bit. He’d been partly hoping she hadn’t fully heard him.
‘Ah dunno if anythin’ll come ae it. She works in a hotel near the barracks. Ah saw her a couple of times when the platoon was out runnin’. Then, later, we got talkin’.’ Gary turned away. He wasbeginning to wish he’d kept this part of his life a secret.
‘Has she actually
got
a name?’ asked Hettie, prodding her brother in the ribs.
‘Eh … aye, it’s Debbie.’
‘Anything else? Any distinguishin’ marks? Facial ticks? Whit does her dad do?’
‘Jesus Christ, Hets. It’s probably nuthin’. I like her but we’ve only been out the once.’
‘Ye’ve been out wi’ her … and that’s me just finding out about it? Aw those bloody borin’ letters about marchin’ and funny chinstraps an’ ye miss
this
out!’ Hettie was enjoying tormenting her brother and she could see he was also trying hard to suppress a smile. She beamed as she began to realise that, for the first time in ages, he was genuinely happy.
‘We went for a walk through St James’s Park a coupla’ weeks ago. It was freezin’, but really great, ken? Had a coffee an’ that, an’ talked for ages.’ He could sense Hettie was desperate for more information. He decided she deserved to hear it.
‘You’d like her Het. She reminds me a lot ae’ you. Her mam’s an artist. She was born in India. No sure whit ‘er dad does but ah think it’s somethin’ along the same lines as Stan May. She’s lived in aw these bizarre places like Cairo an’ Marrakech an’ that. Loads more ah huvnae even heard ae.’ Gary was aware that Hettie was enthralled by this and that she would already be thinking about when they could meet and visit an art gallery together. Gary kept going.
‘Her dad was really sick, so they came back tae Wakefield when she was fifteen. But they didnae settle.
Nomads,
she calls them. So they’re aw doon in London now an’ she’s working for a wee while before college after the summer. That’s about it.’ Gary sat back as if in need of respite after an emotional confession.
‘Age?’ asked Hettie.
‘Twenty-two … naw -three, ah think.’
‘Ye huvnae asked? Whit if her birthday’s next week when ye goback? When are ye seein’ her again?’ Hettie was becoming a touch impatient at her brother’s apparent lack of direct action.
‘Ah’m no sure. Nothing really planned.’ Hettie found this too much.
‘Nothin’ planned? Jesus, Gary, how many girlfriends have you actually had?’
Gary formed the words to answer without appreciating the rhetorical nature of the question.
‘No that many that ye can afford tae play the
hard-tae-get,
ah’d have thought!’ continued Hettie. ‘When ye were talking about her there, yer face was glowin’. Whit’s the matter wi’ ye?
Get in there!
’
This last phrase was designed to make him laugh. When talking to Joey Miller, Bobby used it as a catchphrase so often that Gary and Hettie had made a pact that they would have it inscribed on his gravestone. Unusually, though, Gary didn’t laugh this time.
‘Ah’m no really wantin’ it tae get too serious just now,’ said Gary. Hettie suspected something important was coming so she let the resultant pause play itself out.
‘It looks like
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