Crime by Irvine Welsh Read Free Book Online Page A

tequila. — The retirement dream becomes a nightmare, he muses. Two men walk in, hand in hand, and sit in a corner of the bar. — This place was meant for retirees. Now look at it, Poof Central.
    They down another few drinks and briefly walk along a strip of beach before heading back up to meet their wives present and future.
    Trudi and Dolores have evidently enjoyed their early-evening shopping. — The best time to do it in this heat, Dolores explains, as Trudi defiantly holds up some purchases at Lennox. — It’s stuff I
need
, Ray. I know that we’re meant to be saving up … but I never ask what you spend your money on.
    Resentment bubbles in Lennox.
As if I care what she spends her money on
. — Who’s asking questions? Ah’ve no said a fuckin word.
    — I know that look, Raymond Lennox.
    — What look? Lennox protests through his semi-drunken fug. — You’re makin something oot ay nothing. This is ridic, he appeals to Ginger.
    But it’s Dolores who pitches in. — Shopping’s what we do best, son. Get used to it, she playfully chides, shifting her gaze to Ginger, — right, lover boy?
    — Aye. Ginger flushes through his drink. Lennox thinks it could have been with pride or embarrassment or perhaps a little bit of both.
    Ginger Rogers then presents his guests with two alternatives. Either Dolores can run them back to Miami Beach, as he concedes that he’s drunk way too much, or they can go out for a meal at his favourite restaurant and spend the night in the spare room.
    — We can get a cab, Trudi suggests.
    — Won’t hear of it. Fifty bucks? Robbery! Dolores or me’ll whisk you doon there in the morning.
    — Okay, Lennox agrees, heading out on to the balcony and looking over the rail. The Holiday Inn can’t totally obscure the view of the ocean. The darkness has thickened but some heat is still in the air, despite a thin breeze whistling coolly on his arms. Down below, the soft thump of beats from a disco bar. He can tell Trudi isn’t happy. As she would say herself: he knows that face.
    Ginger comes out to join him, closing the patio door behind them. He has two cans of Miller in his hand; issues one to Lennox. — Paradise, eh? he says, scrutinising his pal’s reaction.
    — Nice, says Lennox, and they bang beer cans together. He knows that he would go crazy here, but each to their own.
    — So why the long face, Raymondo?
    — The long face is on her through there. Lennox twists round and looks in, fuddled and aggressive in drink. — I don’t give a suffering fuck what she buys. And that makes her worse. What I was meant to say was: ‘C’mon, baby, we’re supposed to be saving up for the wedding,’ so she could go, ‘Don’t spend all your money on drink then.’ Ah didnae gie her thet satisfaction, so she got nippy and had the argument anyway: with herself. Only it’s worse now because I supposedly don’t care aboot the poxy wedding.
    Ginger’s eyes take on a manic gleam as they dance in his head. Lennox has the sense that he is watching something moving behind him. — This is your first night here?
    — Aye. He briefly glimpses round, but there’s nothing.
    — And you’re on holiday?
    — Aye.
    — And you’re on med leave after stress breakdown?
    Lennox can see where this is heading. — Aye.
    — And you’re seeing an old buddy you havnae seen in five years?
    — Aye, Lennox hesitantly replies, — but aw the same, I –
    Ginger cuts him off. — And she’s been hassling ye wi wedding plans?
    — Well, aye, I suppose –
    — Tell her those three magical little words every woman needs tae hear now and again, he smiles in defiant cheer, — Get tae fuck!
    The door slides open and Braveheart charges out on to the balcony, barking skittishly in circles as Dolores shouts, — Buck! Get that Caledonian ass of yours in here. You too, Ray! Bill and Jessica have arrived!
    Bill Riordan is a retired New York City police officer. Thin, but looks granite-hewn hard, his whole body like