Lanark_ a life in 4 books - Alasdair Gray [197]
“I’m not an artist and we’re going to Unthank.”
“No. Nothing much in Unthank. Imber’s the place. Bright lights, strip clubs, Swedish massage, plenty of overtime for artists in Imber. Something for everybody. I’ll show you round.”
“I’m not an artist!”
“Have another fag, ducks, and light one for me.”
Rima took the cigarette packet, crying, “Can you really afford it?”
“You saw the wallet. I can afford anything, right?”
“I wish my boyfriend were more like you!”
“Thing about me, if I want a thing, I don’t care how much I pay. To heck with consequences. You only live once, right? You come to Imber.”
Rima laughed and shouted, “I’m a bit like that too.”
Lanark shouted, “We’re going to Unthank!” but the others didn’t seem to hear. He bit his knuckles and looked out again. They were deep among lanes of vast speeding vehicles and container trucks stencilled with cryptic names: QUANTUM, VOLSTAT, CORTEXIN, ALGOLAGNICS. The driver seemed keen to show his skill in overtaking them. Lanark wondered how soon they would reach the road leading off to Unthank, and how he could make the lorry stop there. Moreover, if the lorry did stop, he (being near the door) must get out before Rima. What if the driver drove off with her? Perhaps she would like that. She seemed perfectly happy. Lanark wondered if pregnancy and exhaustion had driven her mad. He felt exhausted himself. His last clear thought before falling asleep was that whatever happened he must not fall asleep.
He woke to a perplexing stillness and took a while understanding where he was. They were parked at the roadside and an argument was happening in the cabin to his right. The driver was saying angrily, “In that case you can clear out.” Rima said, “But why?”
“You changed your mind pretty sudden, didn’t you?”
“Changed my mind about what?”
“Get out! I know a bitch when I see one.”
Lanark quickly opened the door saying, “Yes, we’ll leave now. Thanks for the lift.”
“Take care of yourself, mate. You’ll land in trouble if you stick with her.”
Lanark climbed on the verge and helped Rima down after him. The door slammed and the tanker rumbled forward, becoming a light among other lights whizzing into the distance. Rima giggled and said, “What a funny man. He seemed really upset.”
“No wonder.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were flirting with him and he took it seriously.”
“I wasn’t flirting. I was being polite. He was a terrible driver.” “How does the baby feel?”
Rima flushed and said, “You’ll never let me forget that, will you?”
She started rapidly walking.
The road ran between broad shallow embankments. Rima said suddenly, “Lanark, have you noticed something different about the traffic? There’s none going the opposite way.” “Was there before?”
“Of course. It only stopped a minute ago. And what’s that noise?”
They listened. Lanark said, “Thunder, I think. Or an aeroplane.”
“No, it’s a crowd cheering.”
“If we walk on we may find out.”
It became plain that something strange was happening ahead, for lights had begun clustering on the horizon. The embankment grew steeper until the road passed into a cutting. The verge was now a grassy strip below a dark black cliff with thick ivy on it. Wailing sirens sounded behind them and police cars sped past toward the light and thunder. The cutting ahead seemed blocked by glare, and vehicles slowed down as they neared it. Soon Rima and Lanark reached a great queue of trucks and tankers. The drivers stood on the verge talking in shouts and gestures, for the din increased with every step. They passed another road sign:
: and eventually Rima
halted, pressed her hands over her ears, and by mouthings and headshakings made it clear she would go no farther. Lanark frowned angrily but the noise made thought impossible. There was something animal and even human in it, but only machinery could have sustained such a huge screeching, shrieking, yowling, growling, grinding, whining, yammering, stammering, trilling, chirping and yacacawing.