Trainspotting - Irvine Welsh [68]
— And you, Mr Murphy, you intended to sell the books, like you sell everything else that you steal, in order to finance your heroin habit?
— That’s spot on man . . . eh . . . ye goat it, likesay, Spud nodded, his thoughtful expression sliding into confusion.
— You, Mister Murphy, are an habitual thief. Spud shakes his shoodirs as if tae say, its no ma fault. — The reports state that you are still addicted to heroin. You are also addicted to the act of theft, Mr Murphy. People have to work hard to produce the goods you repeatedly steal. Others have to work hard to earn the money to purchase them. Repeated attempts to get you to cease these petty, but persistent crimes, have so far proved fruitless. I am therefore going to give you a custodial sentence of ten months.
— Thanks . . . eh, ah mean . . . nae hassle, likesay . . .
The cunt turns tae me. Fuck sakes.
— You, Mr Renton, are a different matter. The reports say that you are also a heroin addict; but have been trying to control your drug problem. You claim that your behaviour is related to depression experienced due to withdrawal from the drug. I am prepared to accept this. I am also prepared to accept your claim that you intended to push Mr Rhodes away, in order to stop him from assaulting you, rather than to cause him to fall over. I am therefore going to suspend a sentence of six months on the condition that you continue to seek appropriate treatment for this addiction. Social services will monitor your progress. While I can accept that you had the cannabis in your possession for your own use, I cannot condone the use of an illegal drug; even though you claim you take it in order to combat the depression you suffer from as the result of heroin withdrawal. For the possession of this controlled drug, you will be fined one hundred pounds. I suggest that you find other ways to fight depression in the future. Should you, like your friend Daniel Murphy, fail to take the opportunity presented to you and appear before this court again, I shall have no hesitation in recommending a custodial sentence. Do I make myself clear?
Clear as a bell, you fuckin docile cunt. I love you, shite-for-brains.
— Thank you, your honour. I’m only too well aware of the disappointment I’ve been to my family and friends and that I am now wasting valuable court time. However, one of the key elements in rehabilitation is the ability to recognise that the problem exists. I have been attending the clinic regularly, and am undergoing maintenance therapy having been prescribed methadone and temazepan. I’m no longer indulging in self-deception. With god’s help, I’ll beat this disease. Thank you again.
The magistrate looks closely at us tae see if thirs any sign ay mockery oan ma face. No chance it’ll show. Ah’m used tae keepin deadpan whin windin up Begbie. Deadpan’s better than dead. Convinced it’s no bullshit, the doss cunt dismisses the session. Ah walk tae freedom; perr auld Spud gits taken doon.
A polisman gestures tae him tae move.
— Sorry mate, ah sais, feelin cuntish.
— Nae hassle man . . . I’ll git oaf the skag, and Saughton’s barry fir hash. It’ll be a piece ay pish likesay . . . he sais, as he’s escorted away by a po-faced labdick.
In the hall ootside the courtroom, ma Ma comes up tae us n hugs us. She looks worn oot, wi black circles under her eyes.
— Aw laddie, laddie, whit ah’m ah gaunnae dae wi ye? she sais.
— Silly bastard. That shite’ll kill ye. Ma brother Billy shakes his heid.
Ah wis gaunnae say something tae the cunt. Nae fucker asked him tae come here, and his crass observations are equally unwelcome. However, Frank Begbie came ower as ah wis aboot tae speak.
— Rents! Nice one ma man! Some fuckin result, eh? Shame aboot Spud, but it’s better thin we fuckin expected. He’ll no dae ten months. Be oot in