Current Projects – Clyde Side Story

Clyde Side Story is a cultural, romantic fiction piece of 73,000 words, set in present-day Glasgow. Readers who enjoyed works such as ‘The Young Team’, ‘The Cutting Room’ or Booker Prize-winning ‘Shuggie Bain’ may be the most receptive audience. KERRIE MCINNES, a 15-year-old, capricious Glaswegian, falls for ABDUL HUSSEIN, an introverted refugee from Afghanistan. Their union sparks trouble, not least from Kerrie’s family; her father CHAZ and older brother TONY in particular, who are inherently and irreversibly racist.

Kerrie and Abdul begin their relationship in secret, and both are surprised at how quickly they form a deep attachment to each other. It isn’t long before Tony finds out and he attacks and almost kills Abdul as a result. A retaliation attack by Abdul’s older brothers SAYED and PAZIR eventually brings the two families into direct conflict and there is a battle between the deeply rooted racism lingering in ‘old Glasgow’ culture and the desperation of refugees seeking a better life.

The climax of the battle takes place at a carwash, which is the Hussein family business and their livelihood. When Chaz and Tony burn it down, a tragic death ensues but no-one predicts it to be Kerrie’s younger brother NATHAN, an idealistic youth with exciting prospects and an open hatred towards racism of any kind. The world comes crashing down for his mother JEAN, who has been harbouring a secret about the boy since he was conceived.

With colloquial dialogue and gritty detail, the period of the novel is set around the European migrant crisis in 2015. Abdul and Kerrie are facing an age-old challenge, like a modern-day Romeo and Juliet, but even putting their families (or ‘houses’) aside, death and racism seems inevitably interlinked.

AUTUMN 
Nathan
‘Jeanie, come here!’

His dad’s nose was almost touching the window as he peered between the blinds and two distorted circles of condensation appeared on the glass as he exhaled through his nostrils.

‘Wit is it?’

‘Jist, come here!’

His mum entered the living room a few seconds later, holding a pair of straighteners. Her long, dark-blonde hair was picture-perfect on one side, but all frizzy on the other, as she’d clearly been interrupted from her Saturday morning routine.

She walked towards the window and stopped a foot or so away from his dad.

‘Well?’ she asked, impatiently.

‘That’s eleven of them I’ve seen go in there now, eleven. Talk aboot fuckin’ stretchy walls.’

His older brother was also in the living room, sprawled across the couch and staring up at the TV on the adjacent wall. A bunch of empty crisp packets and two cans of coke were lying on the floor next to him.  

Nathan tried not to pay attention to what was going on in the room. Instead, he sat curled up on an armchair reading his book.

‘I told that muppet McKenzie no tae sell his hoose tae a bunch of Paki’s. They’re takin’ over the whole neighbourhood!’

‘I remember yi talkin’ tae him aboot it,’ said his mum, moving beside his dad and pulling one of the blinds further to the side so that she could look too. ‘But he needed the money, Chaz. Linda’s been bleedin’ him dry since the divorce.’

‘That’s no ma problem,’ his dad retorted.

‘It’s a shame it’s no a nice Scottish family movin’ in, I agree with yi oan that. But if some’dy wis offerin’ you ten grand more than anyb’dy else, you’d have probably done the same.’

‘Would I fuck. Unlike McKenzie, I actually give a shit aboot the neighbours I’m leavin’ behind. No that I’ll ever have tae worry aboot it anyway. It doesn’t matter how hard I knock ma pan in, I’ll be stuck in a council hoose till I’m carted ootae it in a fuckin’ box.’

Nathan noticed her giving his dad an understanding smile and he rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what she was thinking: his dad might have had faults, but he worked hard to provide for the family.

‘McKenzie’s a sell oot, an’ that’s all there is tae it,’ he went on. ‘He pisses aff tae the land of luxury and we’re left sharin’ the street with these Paki bastards.’

Nathan couldn’t help releasing an audible snort.

‘I wouldn’t call Clydebank the land of luxury, Chaz,’ said his mum. ‘I’m no sayin’ Yoker’s the best, but at least we know the folk…’

‘Wit’s your problem?’ his dad barked towards him.

He decided to ignore him at first, partially hoping he would let it go.

‘Ho!’ he added, after a few seconds had passed.

Nathan looked up. ‘Sorry?’ he asked, with a feigned look of innocence.

‘I said, wit’s your problem?’

He sighed at first, knowing what he was about to say would be pointless. But there was a defiance in him too, which wasn’t so easily extinguished.

‘How dae yi even know they’re fae Pakistan?’ he said.

‘Wit?’ replied his dad, in a dangerously low voice.

Nathan could see his mum giving him a warning shake of the head, but he just ignored her.

‘I said, I bet they’re no even fae Pakistan.’

His brother sprang up and clattered him across the back of the head with one of his shovel-like hands. The sting of the impact was quickly followed by a dull ringing in his ears.

‘Shut it yi wee fanny,’ he said cruelly. ‘Same Paki, different trackie, right da?’

‘Tony!’ exclaimed his mum. ‘Don’t lift yir hawns tae yir wee brother!’

His dad just smiled. ‘He was askin’ fir it, Jean.’

‘Naw, he wisnae,’ she persisted. ‘Are yi awright, Nathan?’

‘Jist leave me alone,’ he replied, fiercely fighting a flood of tears and quickly wiping away an escaped one. Tony had given him many hidings over the years, but he wasn’t a little kid anymore and couldn’t start crying in front of everyone. 

‘Sometimes I wonder where he came fae,’ muttered his dad, resuming his position at the window.

‘Both of yi are too hard oan him,’ said his mum, glowering at them one after the other. She snatched the crisp packets off the floor and just stared at the coke cans, realising she wouldn’t be able to lift them whilst still holding the straighteners. Tony had already flung himself back on the couch, not even noticing her predicament.

‘Wit’s wrang with yi, Nathan?’ came a new voice from the living room doorway.

It belonged to his sister, Kerrie, who was standing confidently, with her hands on her hips. She looked like she’d also been busy styling her long blonde hair, with the way it seemed to be sitting perfectly. A wave of female-smelling products also swept into the room, consisting mostly of peaches and strawberries from what he could tell.

Nathan immediately felt more confident with her presence. He probably would have left the room if she hadn’t come in. She was also older than he was and knew when he was upset, despite him trying to hide it.

‘Jist Tony, usin’ him as a punch bag again,’ said his mum.

‘He better no’ve been,’ Kerrie replied, staring at Tony on the couch and raising one eyebrow. She was also slim, but not to the extent of their mum and him.

Tony sniggered, his eyes fixed on the TV again.

Nathan thought for the millionth time about how similar his couch-potato brother was to his stocky dad at the window. They were like two peas in a pod: same strong build, identical dark-coloured hair; they even had the same gazing expression on their faces, at that moment at least. 

He, on the other hand, looked nothing like them, a fact he was relieved about. He was much thinner, and his hair colour was more closely matched with his mum’s. It was usually ruffled and untidy too, not unlike the unfinished side of hers.

‘Why don’t yi try hittin’ some’dy who’s no afraid tae hit back?’ she spat.

Tony continued smirking but didn’t rise to Kerrie’s challenge. He knew better than anyone that she was no pushover like Nathan. And Nathan himself, would be the first one to agree. 

‘Jist shut it, Kerrie, right?’ said their dad from the window. ‘We’ve got more important things tae be dealin’ with.’

‘Oh, wit is it noo, da?’ she asked dismissively, not taking her eyes off Tony as she passed the couch. ‘Is some’dy parkin’ in yir space again?’

‘I wish that’s all it wis.’

Kerrie peered out the window next to their dad.

‘Wit?’ she asked.

‘Fuckin’ Paki invasion, in Brian McKenzie’s old hoose.’

Kerrie rolled her eyes.

‘So what?’

‘So what?’ he repeated. ‘You’re jist as bad as that wee shit over there.’

Nathan narrowed his eyes at the insult.

‘Whatever,’ she said, turning away from the window and heading towards the living room door, rubbing Nathan on the shoulder as she did. ‘How dae yi put up with him?’ she muttered as she passed their mum.

Her mum gave her a look which seemed to say she often thought the same and then followed her out the room.

His dad resumed staring out the window and beyond the sounds from the TV, the room was silent for a couple of minutes.

Nathan wasn’t about to hang around in the absence of his mum and Kerrie and got up to leave too.

‘I’m tellin’ yi, son, this place is goin’ right tae the dogs,’ his dad muttered.

Nathan decided to linger outside in the hall for a few minutes and listen.

‘What’s that da?’ asked Tony.

He heard him get up from the couch and he peered cautiously into the room.

Standing side by side at the window, they were pretty much the same height, but where Tony’s build was mostly muscle, his dad had obvious bulges of fat in places, especially around his belly which always seemed to enter the room ahead of him. He also wore glasses on his pig-like face which, if genes were anything to go by, were a certainty to come for Tony, probably sooner rather than later given the number of hours he spent staring at screens.

‘That lot,’ he said. ‘It’s jist the fuckin’ start.’

‘I wouldn’t worry aboot it too much da. It’s no like they’re gonnae be made welcome roon aboot here. I’ll give them six months, tops.’

He slapped their dad on the back and returned to the couch, Nathan quickly ducking his head back round the door as he did. ‘I dae worry aboot it though,’ his dad persisted. ‘They don’t fuckin’ belong here. And the sooner they piss off back tae wherever they came fae, the better.’

Kerrie
She slammed the front door as hard as she could and hauled her bag over her shoulder. It wasn’t the first time she’d been happy to go to school because it meant getting away from the house. Her dad hadn’t stopped going on about the new neighbours all weekend and her mum was really getting on her nerves.

It was a sunny September morning which was probably just as well because she wasn’t wearing a jacket. That would have interfered with the latest fashion trend of a tight, short-sleeved white shirt with numerous gold chains around her neck and a similar number of bangles around her wrists. Kerrie’s body had developed early and she was comfortable with the way she looked. She particularly enjoyed the attention she drew too.

This had been the subject of the latest shouting match with her mum that morning.

‘Dressin’ like a cheap wee tart is only gonnae lead tae wan thing,’ she had said cattishly as Kerrie was getting ready to leave.

‘I’m jist makin’ the most of what God gave me,’ she replied, trying to brush off the insult.

‘Until yi end up pregnant an’ then yir life’ll be over before it’s even started.’

‘Who says I’m gonnae end up pregnant?’ Kerrie snapped back, already losing her cool. ‘And that’s rich comin’ fae you. You were only seventeen when yi had Tony. I wouldn’t say that wis takin’ yir time, ma!’

‘Don’t speak tae me like that yi wee madam! We’re no talkin’ aboot me, we’re talkin’ aboot you. An’ how dae yi think I know what I’m goin’ on aboot?’

‘Jist mind yir own business,’ Kerrie had said with a tone of finality as she stormed out.

Presently, she was walking with extra care across a sea of sodden leaves on the pavement outside her house. The street they lived on was called Rosewood Avenue which made it sound nicer than it actually was. Nathan went on about this all the time.

‘With a name like that, you’d expect nice folk, fancy gardens an’ posh motors,’ he said. ‘Yi only need tae be here fir two minutes tae realise the place is an utter shitehole.’

There were trees at least; large, unkempt oak trees, with roots that pushed up the concrete on the road and pavements. In the autumn, the trees showered the ground with large brown leaves, making walking conditions treacherous when the rain turned them into mulch. Her dad regularly went on about how the council were ‘a bunch of lazy bastards’ as they never cleared the streets the way they used to.

The mulch was the reason for Kerrie’s care on the pavement. Not just the fear of her also-on-trend black pumps losing what little grip they had and sending her crashing to the ground. She was also trying to minimise the splashing of mud onto the back of her black tights and skirt.

At last, she made it out of Rosewood and walking was more straightforward. It was a relief to feel the hard pavement under her feet. The new street she was on led straight to the main road where she took the bus to school each day.

She saw her friend Carly waiting for her at the bus stop as usual.

‘Mornin’ honey!’ she shouted when she saw Kerrie, in her usual, high-pitched voice.

‘Mornin’,’ Kerrie repeated, in a dull, unenthusiastic manner.

‘What’s up?’

‘Nothin’, I cannae be arsed gettin’ intae it.’

Carly looked like she was going to pry further, but then shrugged and said, ‘Look, the bus is comin’. Yi jist made it and nae mare!’

She was dressed exactly the same way as Kerrie, with the tight white shirt and short black skirt. She also wasn’t wearing a jacket. Weeks before the new school term had started, which was just over a month ago now, Carly had been constantly Whatsapp’ing pictures of her uniform to her, to make sure they would be aligned. Kerrie knew she was better looking than Carly; an opinion she tactfully didn’t voice but was secretly happy about. Carly was quite flat-chested and although she had nice straight hair like Kerrie, her face was a bit long in shape which often earned her the nickname horse-face back in primary school. There weren’t many who were brave enough to call her that openly though, especially now they were in secondary school. Everyone knew better than to mess with one of Kerrie McInnes’s friends.

They got on the bus and headed straight for the back as usual. There was a group of boys who looked like they might be first years at the back, pushing each other, shouting and generally being rowdy. On another morning, Kerrie might have asked them to beat it, but she couldn’t be bothered today and chose to sit on a seat in front of them. Carly sat in next to her.

‘So wit is it, chick, wit’s the matter?’ she asked. ‘Has Tony been windin’ yi up?’

Kerrie rolled her eyes. Carly had a weird obsession with Tony which naturally she couldn’t understand.

‘It’s nothin’ tae dae wi Tony. Jist ma maw bein’ a pain in the arse again.’

‘Aboot wit?’

‘She said a wis dressed like a wee tart.’

Carly couldn’t help a few giggles escaping. ‘Is that all? Ma maw says that tae me all the time.’

‘I couldnae give a fuck wit she thinks,’ Kerrie snapped at her. ‘She’s jist always oan ma case lately, yi know wit I mean? It’s like we don’t get on anymore.’

‘Come on, yir ma’s no that bad.’

‘Yi jist don’t get it,’ said Kerrie, shaking her head. ‘It’s like she doesn’t want me tae be happy or somethin’. She’s made an arse of her own life an’ now she’s takin’ it all oot oan me.’

‘How’s she made an arse of her own life?’

‘Och, yi know. She had Tony when she wis seventeen, she works in fuckin’ Tesco an’ she’s jist bloody miserable all the time.’

The noise from the boys behind them was escalating and it seemed to be streaming directly into Kerrie’s brain.

‘Ho!’ she yelled, turning round. ‘Are you wee fannies gonnae rap it up back there before I come roon an’ boot yir baws fir yi?’

The noise ceased immediately and Carly started laughing.

As she faced the front again, Kerrie noticed a boy getting on the bus that she hadn’t seen before. He looked Asian from his skin colour, which was way too tanned for someone from Glasgow. He also wasn’t a school pupil from the way he was dressed, in super-skinny navy jeans, a pair of black Nike Airforce trainers with a large white tick on the sides and a blue chequered shirt hanging loosely over a white t-shirt which was clinging tightly to his slim body. His jet-black hair was trimmed short into a perfectly textured fade which completed a super-trendy style, in Kerrie’s opinion at least. He sat on one of the seats near the front of the bus, but she caught a brief glimpse of his eyes before he did, which only attracted her to him even more.

Beyond guys she’d seen on TV (mostly American ones), Kerrie couldn’t remember being attracted to a foreigner before and was surprised by how much this one had caught her attention. There were a few Asian boys in school who wore those ugly turbans to hold their overly long hair in place and this was always a massive turn-off for her.

‘Are yi plannin’ oan havin’ it aff wi the fuckin’ Taliban noo?’

‘Wit?’ asked Kerrie, snapping out of her thoughts.

‘Yi were pure checkin’ that cunt oot,’ said Carly in a voice just as loud as her previous comment.

‘Shut up, yi’r as bad as ma da,’ said Kerrie, hoping the boy hadn’t heard what Carly had said. ‘Wit have we got first the day again?’

‘Double maths,’ replied Carly, rolling her eyes.

‘Fuck sake.’

‘Ano, it’s brutal. I cannae believe we’ve got oor exams this year an’ all.’

‘Tell me aboot it. The way I’m goin’, there’ll be nae Nat 5’s oan the cards fir me, jist 4’s an’ I’ll need tae try again with the 5’s next year, if I even go back that is.’

‘Are yi thinkin’ aboot leavin’ school next year?’ asked Carly, her eyes wide with alarm.

‘Och I dunno. I haven’t really thought aboot it. Come oan, that’s us.’

Kerrie motioned for Carly to move as she could see the school up ahead. She couldn’t resist sneaking a look at the foreign boy again as she passed, but he didn’t even notice as he was too busy typing on his phone.

‘It might seem like pointless shite to you at the moment, Miss McIntyre, but demonstrating a basic understanding of algebra will open many doors for you in the future.’

Chantel’s face turned bright red. She’d clearly not realised Mr Hughes had been standing behind her desk.

Kerrie smiled to herself as she watched her squirm.

‘Jesus Christ, Sir, have yi ever thought aboot gettin’ a job with the secret service?’ Chantel mumbled.

A ripple of giggles rolled around the classroom.

‘Right, you lot, settle down,’ said Mr Hughes.

‘I mean, wit doors are we talkin’ aboot?’ Chantel continued in a louder voice; her confidence fuelled by the attention from the class. ‘Wan’s where yi cannae use a calculator?’

A louder wave of laughter followed, and Mr Hughes looked up to the ceiling.

‘Clearly you’ve got a lot to learn and I’m not just talking about algebra,’ he retorted. ‘For the moment can we just get on with the exercise and leave out the running commentary?’

Chantel twisted her face at him in reply but didn’t chance adding anything else.

Kerrie felt sorry for Mr Hughes. For some weird reason he seemed really into maths when everyone else couldn’t stand it. That could only be a rubbish situation for anyone day after day.

He made his way back to the front of the class and slumped down into his chair.

He was quite good looking for a teacher and was probably in his mid-twenties or thereabouts. She didn’t fancy him or anything, but figured women his own age generally would. He was a bit on the posh side by the way he talked and dressed, with his perfectly ironed shirt and trousers and polished shoes. His hair was always neatly combed to one side too and he was never without a fancy watch on his wrist, probably a Tag or Rolex. He definitely wasn’t the worst teacher she had either as he was quite tolerant with a lot of their back chat and even had a bit of banter with them now and again.

As much as she hated to admit it, she was with Chantel when it came to maths though. It was pointless shite. And not only that, it was pointless shite she couldn’t understand, even if she wanted to. This had been the case for some time. She’d been busy daydreaming about the boy she’d seen on the bus this morning when Mr Hughes had started on Chantel. The dark-skinned, slender-figured hottie was a much more interesting subject than algebra, that was for sure.

The second of the two maths classes crawled it’s way by. Mondays usually dragged, but this one seemed worse for some reason. Kerrie wished something would happen to change her mood, but it was hard to see what it could be.

‘I mean, wit’s so bad aboot dressin’ the way yi like anyway?’ she asked Carly when they finally made it to lunchtime.

Carly lived in one of the streets nearby and the two of them had been friends since primary school. Kerrie genuinely liked her; she could be a bit clingy at times, but this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. They were sitting in the school dinner hall which was noisy and rowdy as usual. She hadn’t felt that hungry, so had just got some noodles. To her massive surprise, her friend had gone for the same.

‘Wit?’ Carly replied, concentrating extra hard on winding as many noodles as she could around her flimsy, plastic fork.

‘The way she goes on, you’d think I was puttin’ it aboot wi every cunt in the school.’

‘Are yi still goin’ on aboot yir ma?’ she said, before shoving the fork in her mouth.

‘So wit if I am?’

‘Fuck, that’s roastin’,’ Carly exclaimed, throwing her head back and panting like a dog.

Kerrie rolled her eyes.

Carly windmilled both hands at least six inches away from her face as if it would make a difference.

‘Like I said earlier,’ she went on, as soon as could swallow the noodles. ‘Why does it bother yi so much? Jist dae wit I dae when ma maw starts her pish an’ ignore her. Works every time.’

‘I’ve tried that,’ replied Kerrie. ‘Most of the time I’m even mindin’ ma own business when she starts. Like this mornin’. She jist wants tae pick a fight wi me the noo fir some reason.’

‘An’ why would she want tae dae that?’

She said it so absentmindedly, staring down at her noodles, that Kerrie wanted to knock the container out of her hands. She resisted the urge though and decided to change the subject.

‘Fuck knows. It wis good tae see Chantel get a roastin’ earlier. I never tire of seein’ that cow gettin’ burnt.’

‘It wis hardly wit I’d call a roastin’,’ Carly replied. ‘No that you’d expect one fae Hughes the hamster anyway.’

‘Hughes the wit?’

‘Hamster. Yi know, like weak, an’ nervous.’

Kerrie crossed her eyes. ‘Wit a lot of shite.’

‘It wasn’t me that came up wi it,’ said Carly, grinning.

‘First time I’m hearin’ it. An’ are hamsters no meant tae be cute?’

‘Well, aye, but they’re wee shitebags an’ aw.’

The two of them laughed.

Kerrie concentrated on eating her own noodles, which had cooled enough to avoid any daft antics like Carly’s.

‘The cow wis right aboot wan thing,’ she said, after she’d had a few mouthfuls. ‘Maths is fuckin’ brutal the noo.’

‘She never said that, she said it wis pointless.’

‘Which makes it even worse,’ Kerrie snapped. ‘Fryin’ our brains fir fuck all.’

Carly shrugged.

‘Yi cannae be good at everythin’, chick,’ she said. ‘Jist concentrate oan the subjects yi dae well at, yi know, like…’

Kerrie stared at her friend in anticipation.

‘Like… How aboot… Naw, wait the noo…’

Kerrie narrowed her eyes.

‘Gimmie a minute tae I think.’

‘Dae me a favour, mate. Don’t ever become a counsellor or a therapist or anythin’ like that.’

Carly shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

‘Yi know you’ve got much more goin’ fir yi than school anyway,’ she said. ‘You’re the wan who always goes oan aboot no needin’ it.’

Kerrie opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a loud whistle from a group of boys walking towards them. She rolled her eyes as she recognised one in particular.

‘Alright ladies,’ said one of the others, grinning as he stopped in front of their table. His mouth was full of braces and his face was splattered with acne. ‘How’s it goin’?’

When neither of them answered, he shrugged and sat down next to Carly, putting his arm around her at the same time. The second of the three took the seat next to Kerrie, while the last one remained standing, looking nervously at his feet.

‘Why don’t yi’s join us?’ Kerrie said sarcastically.

Carly wriggled away from the first one’s arm. ‘Dae yi’s really have tae? Piss aff, Dillan.’

‘There’s nae need tae be like that,’ he said, still grinning. He didn’t try and put his arm back round her though.

‘Wit can I dae fir yi’s?’ asked Kerrie.

‘Nothin’, we’re jist wantin’ tae hang oot, that’s all.’

‘Aye, I’m sure,’ she replied, looking at the boy still standing.

Dillan looked at him too.

‘Are yi no gonnae sit doon, Joe?’ he said, winking at his friend across the table.

Joe sneaked a look towards Kerrie at last.

She wondered why he was acting so weird but didn’t particularly care either.

‘There’s no more seats is there,’ Joe mumbled.

‘I’ll pull wan over,’ Dillan said, looking around him.

‘No, I… We should probably get goin’. It’s gym next an’ we need tae get changed an’ that.’

‘Fuck sake, I’m no gonnae bite yi, Joe,’ said Kerrie.

‘That’s no wit he wis tellin’ us aboot yi earlier!’ Dillan exclaimed.

The two boys at the table laughed loudly causing others nearby to look over.

‘Dillan, mate,’ said the one next to Kerrie, as he fist-pumped his friend.

Kerrie raised her eyebrows at Joe.

‘I never told them anythin’, Kerrie, I swear!’

‘Aye, sure yi didnae,’ spat Carly, looking Joe up and down.

‘He probably didnae right enough,’ said Kerrie. ‘Otherwise he knows I’d start blabbin’ tae folk an’ aw.’

She held up her right hand and wiggled her little finger.

Dillan and the other boy descended into full scale hysterics, while Joe looked mortified.

‘I really need tae get goin’,’ he said, giving Kerrie one last, worried look.

‘Aye, jog on,’ said Carly.

He turned and walked away from them.

‘Mate, that was class,’ said Dillan, pushing his chair back as he stood up.

‘Totally class,’ added his friend, standing up too.

‘Glad yi’s both enjoyed the show,’ said Kerrie.

‘He’s never gonnae live this wan doon,’ said Dillan. ‘Till next time ladies. Give me a text, Carly if yi want tae hang oot or that.’

‘I wouldnae hold ma breath,’ she called after him as the two of them headed off in the same direction as Joe.

‘Wit a wee prick,’ Carly added as soon as they’d gone. ‘Dae yi think he has been mouthin’ aff tae folk aboot yi, yi know after…’

‘I doubt it,’ Kerrie interrupted. ‘He’s too much of a shitebag.’

‘He’s obviously been tellin’ folk though.’

‘So what if he has? It’s no like I swore him tae secrecy or anythin’. He can tell whoever he wants.’

She genuinely couldn’t care less about who Joe had been talking to. He’d hardly been anything to write home about. Seeing him getting all paranoid in front of his friends had cheered her up a bit though.

‘That Dillan is so annoying,’ said Carly in an unconvincing voice. ‘Did yi hear him try tae ask me oot?’

‘How dae yi no take him up oan it?’ said Kerrie.

‘Fuck, no,’ she said, screwing her face up. ‘He’s a total minger wi that pizza face of his.’

‘Are yi sure aboot that?’ Kerrie added mischievously.

‘Aye, I’m sure.’

Kerrie smiled. She knew her friend was happy about the attention, even if it was only from Dillan.

‘Come oan and we’ll cut aboot a bit, before next class,’ said Kerrie, standing up. ‘What’ve we got, twenty minutes at least?’

‘Aye,’ replied Carly, looking at her watch. ‘A wee bit more than that actually.’

The two of them headed for the door.

‘Wit yi were sayin, earlier,’ said Carly as soon as they were outside. ‘Aboot leavin’ school next year…’

‘Och, no the noo, Carly, please,’ she said irritably. ‘I don’t know wit I’m doin’ next week, let alone next year, awright?’

Carly seemed worried, but Kerrie didn’t want her mood to drop again.

‘Let’s go an’ see if the van’s still aboot,’ she said. ‘I fancy some chocolate.’ She set off towards the school gate, weaving her way through the busy playground. Carly stood for a moment before following behind her.