Read Online Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh - Free Book Online

friends. He should have taken his scarf off. Who the fuck was to know?
    He was a London boy now, what did all this shite have to do with his life at the moment? He didn’t even want to try and answer his own questions.
    On the station concourse, a group marched over to him. Hibbv bastard! a youth shouted.
    – You've goat it wrong boys. Ah'm a Borussia Munchengladbach man. He felt a blow on the side of his mouth and tasted blood. Some kicks were aimed at him, as the group walked away from him.
    – Happy New Year boys! Love and peace, jambo brothers! He laughed at them, and sucked his sour, split lip.
    – Cunt's a fuckin heidcase, one guy said. He thought they were going to come back for him, but they turned their attention to abusing an Asian woman and her two small children.
    – Fuckin Paki slag! Fuck off back tae yir am country.
    They made a chorus of ape noises and gestures as they left the station.
    – What charming, sensitive young men, Stevie said to the woman, who looked at him like a rabbit looks at a weasel. She saw another white youth with slurred speech, bleeding and smelling of alcohol. Above all, she saw another football scarf, like the one worn by the youths who abused her. There was no colour difference as far as she was concerned, and she was right, Stevie realised with a

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    grim sadness. It was probably just as likely to be guys in green who hassled her. Every support had its arseholes.
    The train was nearly twenty minutes late, an excellent performance by British Rail standards. Stevie wondered whether she'd be on it. Paranoia hit him. Waves of fear shuddered through his body. The stakes were high, the highest ever. He couldn't see her, couldn't even picture her in his mind's eye. Then she was almost upon him, different to.how he thought of her, more real, even more beautiful. It was the smile, the look of emotion reciprocated. He ran the short distance to her and held her in his arms. They kissed for a long time. When they stopped, the platform was deserted and the train was well on its way to Dundee.

    TRAINSPOTTING

    It Goes Without Saying
    Ah hears the searin racket coMin fae ootside the room. Sick Boy, crashed oot in the windae bay next tae us, shoots tae alertness like a dug thit's heard a whistle. AH shudder. That noise cut right through us.
    Lesley comes intae the room screaming. It's horrible. Ah wanted her tae stoap. Now. Ah couldnae handle this. Nane ay us could. No now. Ah never wanted anything mair in ma life than fir her taE stoap screamin. – The bairn's away . . . the bairn's away. . . Dawn. . . oh my god. . . oh fuckin god, wis aboot aw ah could pick ootay the horrible sound. She collapses oantae the threadbare couch. Ma eyes stick oan a brown stain oan the wall above her. Whit the fuck was it? How did it get there?
    Sick Boy wis on his feet. His eyes bulged oot like a frog's. That's what he reminded us ay, a frog. It was the wey he sort ay hops up, becomes suddenly so mobile fae a stationary position. He looks at Lesley for a few seconds, then nashes through tae the bedroom. Matty and Spud look around uncomprehendingly, but even through thir junk haze, they ken thit somethin really bad's happened. Ah kent. Christ, ah fuckin knew awright. Ah said whit ah always sais when somethin bad happens.
    –Ah'm cookin up in a bit, ah tell them. Matty's eyes bore intae us. He gies us the nod. Spud stands up and moves oantae the couch, sittin a few feet fae Lesley. Her heid's in her hands. For a minute ah thought thit Spud wid touch her. Ah hoped he would. Ah'm willing um tae dae it, but he jist stares at her. Ah knew, even fae here, thit he'd be focusing oan the big mole oan her neck.
    – It's ma fault . . . it's ma fault, she cries through her hands. Eh, Les . . . likesay, Mark's cookin up, eh . . . ye ken, likesay eh . . . Spud sais tae her. It's the first words ah kin remember hearing um say for a few days. Obviously, the cunt’s spoken ower this period. He must huv, surely tae