Trainspotting - Irvine Welsh [16]
Leaving the bathroom, Nina looked in on Uncle Andy. The corpse lay in the bed, the covers still over it. They might have closed his mouth, she thought. It looked as if he’d expired drunkenly, belligerently, frozen by death as he was arguing about football or politics. The body was skinny and wizened, but then again, Andy always was. She remembered being tickled in the ribs by these persistent, ubiquitous, bony fingers. Perhaps Andy was always dying.
Nina decided to rake through the drawers to see if Alice had any knickers worth borrowing. Andy’s socks and y-fronts were in the top section of a chest of drawers. Alice’s undies were in the next one down. Nina was startled by the range of underwear Alice had. They ranged from outsized garments which Nina held against her, and which almost came down to her knees, to skimpy, lacy briefs she could never imagine her auntie wearing. One pair were made of the same material as the black lace gloves Nina had. She removed the gloves to feel the pants. Although she liked these ones, she picked a pink flowery pair, then went back into the bathroom to put them on.
When she got downstairs, she noted that alcohol had displaced tea as the gathering’s principal social lubricant. Dr Sim stood, whisky in hand, talking to Uncle Kenny, Uncle Boab and Malcolm. She wondered if Malcolm would be asking him about fallopian tubes. The men were all drinking with a stoic determination, as if it was a serious duty. Despite the grief, there was no disguising the sense of relief in the air. This was Andy’s third heart attack, and now that he had finally checked out, they could get on with their lives without jumping nervously whenever they heard Alice’s voice on the phone.
Another cousin, Geoff, Malky’s brother, had arrived. He looked at Nina with something she felt was akin to hate. It was unnerving and strange. He was a wanker though. All Nina’s cousins were, the ones she knew at any rate. Her Auntie Cathy and Uncle Davie (he was from Glasgow and a Protestant), had two sons: Billy, who had just come out of the army, and Mark, who was supposed to be into drugs. They were not here, as they hardly knew Andy or any of the Bonnyrigg crowd. They would probably be at the funeral. Or perhaps not. Cathy and Davie once had a third son, also called Davie, who had died almost a year ago. He was badly mentally and physically handicapped and had lived most of his life in a hospital. Nina had only seen him once, sitting twisted in a wheelchair, mouth open and eyes vacant. She wondered how Cathy and Davie must have felt about his death. Again sad, but perhaps also relieved.
Shite. Geoff was coming over to talk to her. She had once pointed him out to Shona, who said that he looked like Marti from Wet Wet Wet. Nina hated both Marti and the Wets and, anyway, thought that Geoff was nothing like him.
— Awright, Nina?
— Aye. It’s a shame aboot Uncle Andy.
— Aye, Whit kin ye say? Geoff shrugged his shoulders. He was twenty-one and Nina thought that was ancient.
— So when dae ye finish the school? he asked her.
— Next year. Ah wanted tae go now but ma Ma hassled us tae stey.
— Takin O Grades?
— Aye.
— Which yins?
— English, Maths, Arithmetic, Art, Accounts, Physics, Modern Studies.
— Gaunnae pass them?
— Aye. It’s no that hard. Cept Maths.
— Then whit?
— Git a job. Or git oan a scheme.
— No gaunnae stey oan n take Highers?
— Naw.
— Ye should. You could go tae University.
— Whit fir?
Geoff had to think for a while. He had recently graduated with a degree in English Literature and was on the dole. So were most of his fellow graduates. — It’s a good social life, he said.
Nina recognised that the look Geoff had been giving her was not one of hate, but of lust. He’d obviously been drinking before he had arrived and his inhibitions were lowered.
— You’ve