Stonemouth полностью

Ferg is looking at me suspiciously and in a sense rightly so, because the whole truth involves a little more than I’ve just told him. I know this from what Ellie told me. Callum had apparently behaved inappropriately with one of his younger cousins earlier that year, so the discovery of Grier in his bed hadn’t been handled as calmly as it might have been, and both he and Grier — but especially Callum — had been left more traumatised by the family reaction than by what had — or more likely hadn’t — happened during the night.

‘Oh well,’ Ferg says. ‘So. Any punchline?’

‘What?’

‘To the Grier in your bed story. Any punchline?’

‘Not really; an awkward breakfast and she left early. Didn’t see her again till a day or two ago. Never heard of Brad again, either. Happily.’

‘Good. Cos—’

‘Seriously, Ferg, what does it mean when the breakfast, the whole morning, is more awkward because you didn’t fuck when you slept together compared to any of the times when you did?’

Ferg regards me levelly for a moment or two. He shrugs. ‘Fucked if I know. Anyway. I’ve got one.’

‘You’ve got one what?’

‘A punchline.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘You betcha, sweet-cheeks.’

‘And? So?’

‘I fucked her that same night.’

‘What? Who?’

‘Grier and me; we did the dirty that same night you fornicated for the cameras with Jel in the Mearnside.’ He gives a sort of jabbing nod and sits back, drinking his pint.

I just stare at him. Eventually I say, ‘You did what?’ Ferg shrugs. ‘Yeah. In Humpty’s room.’

‘In Humpty’s room?’

‘Most assuredly.’

‘He wasn’t, like, there or anything?’

‘Fuck off. Humpty? Of course not. Just me and Grier and all that black crêpe and kohl. And a certain degree of coked-up frenzy. Twice. Would have been more but Humpty was pawing at the door and starting to talk about going to get the manager and the pass key.’ Ferg looks at me, eyebrows raised, appraising. ‘Might even have been her first time, too. Didn’t like to ask. Certainly more enthusiasm than skill on her part.’ He lif ts his glass again before muttering, ‘Mind you, a lot of enthusiasm.’ He drinks, deeply, though I can see he’s still watching me from the corner of one eye.

‘You total cunt,’ I breathe.

‘Fuck you!’ Ferg laughs, putting his glass down. He glances round, sits forward again and lowers his voice a little. ‘I didn’t fucking rape the girl! She was legal and willing. Just cos you wanted to—’

‘I thought I fucking warned you off her?’

‘So I love a challenge! Forbidden fucking fruit, you moron.’

‘You use a condom?’

‘Of course I used a fucking condom! What sort of—’

‘Anyway, I thought you went off with Josh that night!’

‘So I sucked some cock as well! So fucking what?’

I shake my head, look at him. ‘You total, total cunt.’

Ferg sighs. ‘And you, my dear, darling boy, are just jealous.’ He shakes his head, then mutters, ‘At least now you know how it feels.’

I shake my head. I really don’t know what to say.

I look down at my new, rather rubbish and very temporary phone, which is sitting, unloved and mostly unwanted, in my hand. Whatever; I think its sorry, clunky ass is now set up, and it has at least some power. I press its stupid, insufficiently responsive screen.

Ferg’s phone rings. His ringtone’s a male voice I don’t recognise going, ‘Answer the phone, ya fud.’ Ferg pulls out the phone, glances at the display and, looking at me, says, sharply, ‘Yes?’

I look him in the eyes. ‘…Total…total…cunt.’

It’s a damp, cloudy Sunday evening in what’s definitely beginning to feel like the start of autumn rather than the end of summer and I’m twenty-fucking-six but I’m still going back to my mum and dad’s for my tea. After being bullied and beaten up by the big boys, too. This is grim. I shouldn’t have come back.

I look at people like Ryan and Anjelica and I think, Why didn’t you just leave? They didn’t have to stay after things went wrong here. Why not just fuck off, even if it’s just to Edinburgh or Glasgow, never mind London or anywhere else in the world?

But I suppose Ryan stays in Stonemouth because this is where Ellie is and he still has some pathetic, forlorn hope that they might get back together again, so staying where he’s readily available just in case she does change her mind seems like the sensible thing to do. Poor fucking sap.

And Jel…well, I guess what happened wasn’t that shameful; it is the twenty-first century and all that shit, and she was fucking a guy who wasn’t married, and it’s not as though she did a Paris Hilton; it was obvious what she and I were doing, but you didn’t get to see anything. You certainly didn’t get to see anything worth wanking over, which is kind of the definition of what porn’s actually about, I suppose.