Its Colours They Are Fine. Alan Spence

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      ‘Wotcha think yer gonna find?’ asked Les.

      ‘Wojja finkya gonna foind?’ said Shuggie, mocking his English accent.

      ‘Very funny,’ said Les.

      ‘Vewy fanny,’ said Shuggie. ‘Anywey, never you mind whit. Jist you wait an see.’

      ‘Some’dy funn a stuffed owl wance,’ said Aleck. ‘In a gless case it wis. An some’dy else funn a dead dead dead auld fotie a the Rangers.’

      ‘Whit ye talkin tae that cunt fur?’ said Shuggie.

      ‘Ach c’mon,’ said Aleck. ‘E’s no daein any herm. Ah mean wu’ve goat tae soart oot the jotters sometime.’

      ‘Aw ah’m sayin is thur’s nae hurry,’ said Shuggie. ‘We kin take wur time. Nae need tae belt intae it as if wur daein piecework.’

      ‘Ach well,’ said Aleck. There was a silence. Then he went on, telling Les, ‘An thur’s supposed tae be gasmasks, an fitba strips, an bladders, an loads a great books, an jist . . . hunners a things!’

      ‘Must be pretty well hidden!’ said Les, looking round the room and laughing.

      ‘Smartarse!’ said Shuggie, then, turning to Aleck, ‘D’ye wanty gie tit-features a haun then?’

      ‘Aw right,’ said Aleck, jumping down from the desk-top where he was squatting.

      ‘Freezin in ere, innit,’ said Les.

      For answer, Aleck nodded and shuddered, blowing on his hands and rubbing them together. ‘Nae radiators in here,’ he said. He lifted down a packet of jotters and tore it open.

      ‘F2,’ he said.

      ‘Over ere,’ said Les, indicating two of the piles he’d made. ‘These other ones are FO and C2. Anythin else we’ve just t’leave ere.’

      The jotters were all a dingy brown colour with the Highway Code on the front. On the back were the multiplication tables and lists of weights and measures, to be memorised. Aleck was reading over the rules for road safety. He had never really thought about them before, though he must have looked at the words a million times, DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! At the kerb HALT! That was like the Life Boys. By the left, Quick MARCH! Aleck hated the stupid marching and drill. He really went to the Life Boys for the football. NEVER play games on the street. Where else was there to play? Mrs Stone their teacher was always on about keeping them off the streets. She was new at the school and she wanted to organise sports for them. She said it was good for them to be in the Life Boys or the Cubs. Healthy. Shuggie had been in the Cubs once but he’d been put out for stealing a scout-knife and fighting over it in the hall. Now whenever he saw Aleck with his Life Boy uniform he had a good laugh at it. Called him sailor-boy. NEVER follow a ball, hoop or playmate into the street. Playmate was a funny word. He tried to imagine himself using it, calling Shuggie his playmate. The thought made him laugh. I say, playmate!

      ‘Aleck!’ Shuggie’s voice was muffled as if he was shouting from down a hole. He had crawled along under the desks to get at a low cupboard in a far corner of the room. He had no room to crouch or turn. To get out again he would have to crawl backwards. He was kneeling there, hunched, coughing and choking on the dust he’d stirred up.

      ‘Gonnae see if ye kin find a stick or somethin,’ he said.

      Aleck looked around the room. ‘Wid a ruler dae?’ he asked.

      ‘It wid prob’ly brek,’ said Shuggie. ‘Somethin a wee bit heavier.’

      Aleck looked again and this time found a broken pointer. He held up the two bits. ‘Prob’ly cracked ower some’dy’s skull!’ he said.

      ‘Likely enough,’ said Les.

      ‘See if this’ll dae,’ said Aleck, passing the pointed end in to Shuggie.

      ‘Great!’ said Shuggie. He wedged it in at the jamb of the door and tried to prise it open. There was a loud crack as something splintered and broke, and he ducked his head from another shower of dust, and the door flapped back on its hinges.

      When the dust had settled he began scrabbling and groping in the cupboard. Then he let out a yell. ‘Aleck! C’mere an . . . Jesus! Wait tae ye see this!’

      Aleck hurried over, stooping down to peer under the desks as Shuggie came struggling out, backwards, feet first. He was dragging with him a cardboard box. Aleck tried to see what was in it. He could make out some colour, red and white, a streak of yellow. Then Shuggie was out and up on his feet, lifting the box clear, into the light.

      ‘Therr!’ he said, laying it down on the floor.

      Aleck looked and couldn’t believe it. The box was full of football jerseys, the old style, with collars. They had red and white stripes. On top was a goalkeeper’s jersey, yellow. Aleck kneeled down, open-mouthed, bright-eyed. He touched one of the jerseys, softly. It didn’t disappear. It was real. He let out a long slow breath, full of amazement and wonder.

      ‘D’ye think ther’s a full set?’ he said at last, grinning up at Shuggie.

      ‘Mibbe,’ said Shuggie, grinning back. ‘Mon wu’ll count them.’ He began, lifting them out and passing them to Aleck. They handled each one gently, lovingly, fearful in case such a treasure should crumble away.

      ‘Ten,’ said Aleck, ‘an a goalie’s jersey!’

      ‘A whole fuckin team!’ said Shuggie.

      ‘They’ve git numbers an everythin!’ said Aleck, laying them down beside the jotters.

      Shuggie searched through the pile till he found the number nine jersey. He draped it over his shoulders, the sleeves hanging down at the front, then he side-stepped past Les and dribbled the cardboard box across the floor.

      ‘Jist a minnit,’ said Aleck. ‘Whit ur we gonnae dae wi thum?’

      ‘Ah wis thinkin,’ said Shuggie. ‘Listen. Ye know how auld Stoney’s always oan aboot sports an that. Ah think we could get ur tae let us huv a team.’

      ‘God,’ said Aleck. ‘D’ye think she wid?’

      ‘Sure!’ said Shuggie. ‘Wu’ll take thum back up wi us an you kin ask ur.’

      ‘How me?’ said Aleck.

      ‘Och c’mon!’ said Shuggie. ‘She likes you. You’re good at compositions an that. If ah ask ur she’ll tell me tae go an take a running fuck.’

      ‘Jist imagine ur sayin that!’ said Aleck, laughing.

      ‘That’s whit she’d mean aw the same,’ said Shuggie.

      ‘Aw right,’ said Aleck. ‘Ah’ll ask ur. C’mon, we better get back up before ther’s a search-party oot lookin fur us.’

      Shuggie placed the jerseys carefully back in the box.

      ‘Tellt ye we’d find somethin din’t ah!’ he said to Les.

      ‘We better СКАЧАТЬ