Ugly Puggly 95

‘I’ll hink about it,’ I tried palming him off with an excuse, but he wasn’t for letting me off so easily.

‘What’s there to think about?’ he asked. ‘It’s your legal duty.’

He’d still the dregs in the glass of wine he was holding and swilling about the bottom of his glass. And he was sitting at my table telling me about my legal duty. I stared at him a bit too long which made him uncomfortable.

‘Look pal, the police urnae like oor best friends.’ I turned to see if Molly would back me up, but she was already clearing up the coffee which hadn’t been touched. Darrell stuck out his hand and stopped her, picking up his cup and taking a sip.

‘Nice,’ he smiled at her.

‘It’s Nescafe, bog standard stuff.’ I pointed out. ‘And it’s cold.’

Cups and saucers clinked in her hand as they slid away and she pushed them together. ‘Some people like cold coffee.’

‘Well, I don’t.’ I squeezed my lips together. ‘And I’m no goin tae nae police.’  

‘I’ll need to inform them then of this development.’ He used some Latin words to embellish what he was saying and make it sound as if he wasn’t grassing on me.

I stood up too quickly. I felt dizzy. My lips jerked upwards like a fish pulled out of a stream. ‘Well, yeh can fuck of oot of my hoose right noo.’ I motioned my hand towards the playboy. ‘And yeh can take that wee prick wae yeh, tae.’

‘Charming.’ He got up slowly and bowed his head a little, a thank-you to Molly for her hospitality. His shoulder turning and hand patting the back of the chair for his jacket. He glanced sideways as he pulled it on.

Dave sat unmoving in his seat. ‘C’mon Babe,’ he rubbed his rounded shoulder. ‘Let’s go.’

The playboy shook his head. ‘I’m stayin.’ He started greeting again. ‘These people were like family tae me.’  

‘Right!’ Darrell turned his head and looked at us with contempt. It bled into what he said. ‘An alcoholic binman has just insulted you. Insulted us. And his wife—’

‘Has asked yeh tae leave very politely.’ Molly cut him off, her voice crackled, ‘Before she does somethin rather silly. Because this isn’t his hoose, but mine. But we’re pretty unanimous about that. Thanks for visitin and slummin it.’

‘Thank you,’ his swallowed whatever else he planned to say and his head dropped and then his eyes took in Dave. ‘You coming?’

‘Nah,’ I reminded him. ‘He’s part of oer family.’

‘But you called him “a wee prick”.’

‘Never.’ He might have spent time arguing in a court of law, but he’d never spent time debating with Ugly Puggly. ‘I was talkin about you. And yer wee package. Yeh, know, yer wee prick.’

‘I didn’t come here to be insulted.’

‘Whit did yeh come for, then?’

His mouth opened and shut. We stayed silent until he left and we heard the door banging shut.

The playboy’s eyes were tender, puffy and pink, but he was no longer crying. A weak smile and a little nod.

I nodded back. ‘Sorry,’ I mouth and hold out my hand. He scrambled up from his seat to shake it and gave me a quick hug, which I returned. ‘Nae mair greetin.’

‘Promise,’ he replied in a teary voice.

‘How’d you meet that prick, anyway?’

‘He’s my manager. Said he could help my career after I got oer a million followers.’

‘That’s the kinda shit Jimmy Saville used to come oot wae.’

Molly tutted. ‘I’m away tae make the beds up.’

‘Right,’ I heeded her warning shot and looked around for the remote. ‘We’ll see whit’s on the telly?’

His phone beeped and it was in his hands before his brain had engaged. ‘It’s Darrell,’ he told us. ‘Said he’s sorry the way hings worked out, but hoped we could still be friends.’

Molly smirked and rolled her eyes. She looked almost happy, grinned school-girlish, before bursting out laughing. ‘Tell him yeh want tae be friends tae. But yeh cannae be-cause he’s got such a wee dick.’  

His phone beeped again.  

She picked up a paper napkin and dabbed at her eyes. Dave put his phone face-down on the table and didn’t bother answering. We whooped with laughter.

We settled down to watch a daft film on the telly, Back to the Future. Ugly Puggly had said they’d made the same film three times, but nobody seemed to notice. I’d that sick feeling in my head that I needed a drink. Nothing else could settle me.

Dave was sitting on the other end of the couch, his legs tucked under his bum, engrossed in the movie. ‘Did Howard really phone, yeh?’

‘I’ll make some tea.’ Molly patted me on the top of the thigh.

‘Course he did,’ I croaked.

Sparks in the movie as the car takes off and they hit the speed to hitch up the flux-capacitator. Dave tilted his chin and smiled to himself. A loud knock on the door startled us.

‘Jesus,’ Dave cried. We couldn’t hold him back. He was down those stairs as quick as a cat chasing a flapping pigeon.

I straightened up and Molly’s eyes met mine.  

The slow tread on the stairs and we heard a male voice talking and we knew it wasn’t Ugly Puggly. Two wide shouldered guys dressed in a grey and black suit. The lighter-grey was polite and introduced himself as a detective. His partner went through all the rigmarole about Ugly Puggly being a missing person and they’d had a report.

We weren’t as polite. Kept them standing at the top of the stairs. Dave acted as mediator. A note of pleading in his voice.  ‘If they get yer phone, they can follow the signal. They can find im’.

It was difficult to argue with modern technology and science. My phone was on the arm of the couch. I picked up and checked it still had some power. Held it out at arm’s length. The detective with the black jacket held out a plastic bag and had me drop it like dog shite, which he sealed and zipped shut.

‘I want that phone back,’ I remind him. ‘The SIM cards worth a tenner.’