“Ard-na-how?”
“Murchan. It’s Gaelic for jutting out into the sea or something. We went there when my mammy was sick. It was the last holiday we took as a family. It’s just this quiet, lonely wee bit of Scotland that sticks all the way out into the sea. There were definitely way more sheep than people and the road was so narrow they only let one car go at a time. There was one day, when it was too dreich for my mammy to be outside, that I went walking by maself. I found a quiet bay, you had to scramble down the cliffside to reach it. It was terrifyin’, but I could see there was something down at the water’s edge. When I got down there, there was a cluster of old stone bothies just abandoned by the people that used to live there. A whole village. Poof, up and gone.”
“Poof?” Mungo chuckled.
James rolled over and continued his lazy grazing. “It’s the most secret place I’ve ever seen. There’s another less hidden beach on the far side of the peninsula that wraps around into a horseshoe and has perfect white sand beaches and crystal-clear water all year round. White sand, pure white, like sugar. They dared me to go for a swim, and I did, all the way out to a big skerrie and back.”
“The sea air would be good for your cough.”
“Well then, mibbe that’s the place. Ma da said it’s hard for the farmers to get good help, on account of it being heavy remote. He stopped at one farm and tried to sell Geraldine cos she was moaning of carsickness.”
Mungo ran his fingers through the flaxen hair. He wanted to shake him, to scream. Instead he tried his hardest to look unbothered and said, “If you wait till I’m sixteen then we could split the cost. It’d be cheaper.”
James stopped his grazing. It would be seven more months before Mungo turned sixteen, before he could finish school and not have the Social come after him. It seemed a lifetime. “What if I can’t hide till your birthday?”
“Fourteen, only fourteen more shore leaves with your da. It’s not that much when you think about it lit that.” He held up his fingers. “Look, it almost fits on two hands.”
“He will kill me, Mungo. I know he will. What if I can’t make it to then?”
James lay his head on Mungo’s stomach again, he rubbed his face on his belly like his nose was itchy. Mungo liked to look at the untouched pinkness behind his ears, how the wheat-coloured hair curled slightly, and was a thousand different shades as it crept towards the nape of his neck. Of all the intimate parts of James he was discovering this was his most favourite. He liked to think he was the only person to care about it.
There was a blackhead forming on his neck; Mungo dug at it with his nails. “You can make it. You have made it so far already. I’ll go anywhere with you. But if I leave afore I’m sixteen there’ll be bother. I need to be sure Mo-Maw is awright. And I can’t lump her on our Jodie. Cos I need to be certain Jodie makes it to college. She’s worked too hard for it.”
“Mo-Maw seemed fine to me.”
“You’ve no seen her with a good soak in her. When Jocky ends it, somebody has to be there for her.”
James rolled over to face him, he squinted in disbelief. “Chickie Calhoun.”
“Whut?”
“Ye’ll be Chickie Calhoun. I get it now.”
“Stop saying that.”
“I can see exactly what you want and it’s not guid. If yer no careful, you’ll be stuck here with her, with Mo-Maw, for all your days. A wee bachelor living on the third floor with his poor mammy and shuffling about in a cagoule to buy his messages. Suffering Jesus. The best part of your day will be standing outside the butcher’s and talking to the other old wummin about the weather. Then you’ll carry your fish supper home in a string bag and lock every snib behind yourself. And for whut?”
“For her.”
“Then ye’re as daft as ye look.”
“Yeah, you wouldnae understand.” He inhaled sharply as if he could suck the cruel words back out of the air. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He felt James go stiff as a board.
“Aye, I’m sorry my mammy is dead an all.”
“I didnae mean it.”
James scowled up at him. “I suppose I could wait. I suppose I could try harder with the fountain girls. See if you ever grow the fuck up.”
“Aye. Do that. If you must.” Suddenly he wanted James off of him, but Mungo didn’t have to ask because James sat up and wiped the spume from the corner of his mouth. “How can you be like this?”
“Lit what?”
James leaned forward and turned off the electric fire. The flames on the ceiling flickered and died. “Christ’s sake, Mungo. You must be steamin’. Have you forgotten what it’s like out there? If they knew, they would stab us! Rip us from balls to chin just for something to talk about down the pub.”
“I know.”
“We’re lower than shite to them.”
“I know.”
“Those lassies. I’d only be doing this for you.”
“Me? I never asked you for anything.”
The boys were staring at each other. James was colouring, digging at the gap in his front teeth. “Can you no see? If I stick around for you then I need to follow his rules. If I’m under his roof I need to try.”
It was a trick, it felt like one of Ha-Ha’s. This is for your own good. Blam. I’m only doing this because you asked for it. Blam. You will thank me later. Blam.
They had slid further apart; all sharp shins and hollow clavicles, nothing but angular bones wrapped in blue-white skin. They drifted on the sea of navy-blue carpet like calved icebergs that were pulling away from each other. Mungo reached for his discarded clothes.
“Where are you going?”
“Away.”
“Naw.”
“Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do.”