Glue by Irvine Welsh Read Free Book Online

start daein silly walks n aw that shite in thir exams. Naw. The thing is, ah am mature n aw. Ah mind ay that one teacher in art, that Miss Ormond, she says tae ays, — You’re the most immature young man I’ve ever taught. Ah hud tae jist tell her straight, ah am mature miss, ah’ve been fuckin well shaggin fir years n ah’ve shagged mair birds thin any other cunt in this school. Nippy cow only went n sent ays tae Blackie’s fir the fuckin web.
    They’ve goat the efternoon telly oan, some repeats ay
The Saint
. It’s the other cunt, the one that looks like the real Saint’s wee brother. Ahsettle doon oantae the couch and Gail sits in one armchair n Maggie oan the airm ay the other. Ah’m lookin at the show ay thigh comin fae under Maggie’s wee tartan skirt and ah’m thinkin aboot that American Express advert: that’ll dae nicely. — So, tell ays aw yir adventures girls, ah ask, takin a long draw ay ma Embie Regal. — What yis been up tae? Mair importantly, ur yis gaun oot wi anybody? Ah’m wantin aw the scandalous gossip mind.
    — She wis gaun oot wi Alan Leighton, Maggie says, pointin tae the Gail bird.
    — No now though, ah hate um, Gail goes.
    — Dinnae really ken the boy, ah smiles, thinkin that Leighton’s a mate ay that Larry Wylie’s so she’s double-bound tae take the doady if she’s been knockin aboot wi yon crowd.
    — Eh’s a wanker, Gail says, in a wey which ye’d be daft no tae read as: ah’m no shaggin him anymair, but ah need a length ay cock pretty bad, so come ahead big yin.
    This is Terence Henry Lawson, interpreting for the badly needing shagged.
    Spice ay life.
    Funny aboot this Gail lassie, ah’m still tryin tae place her. Ah think she might be one ay the Bankses. Ah’m sure she’s a mate ay Doyle’s sister. Nah’m sure she used tae wear glesses, nice gold-rimmed glesses that made her look even dirtier and sexier than she is now, if that’s possible. Mibbe it wis her mate ah’m thinkin aboot. But aye, she’ll go, nae bother, ye jist git soas ye kin tell. Ah turns tae Maggie, whae’s lookin a bit left oot. — Surprised that you’re no spoken fir Maggie, ah say, watchin her blush a bit again. — Ah mean, ah’m no complainin, mind you, it’s great news fir me. See, ah’ve eywis fancied ye!
    Gail throws back her heid n laughs. Then she rolls her eyes n goes, — Whae-hae!
    Wee Maggie though, she sortay joins her hands thegither n lowers her eyes aw shy n says, her voice gaun aw low, — But you’re gaun oot wi Lucy Wilson.
    Fuck me, it was like she wis in a church or something. She’s foolin nae cunt wi that shite. She’s a proddy, which means ye nivir go tae church. — Naw, that’s aw past now. So if ah wis tae ask ye tae go oot wi me, wid ye?
    She looks aw crimson. She turns tae Gail, n laughs, no sure whether ah’m takin the pish or no.
    — Terry’s askin ye a question, Maggie! Gail says aw loud.
    — Ah dinnae ken, she says back aw irritated, but a wee bit coy at the same time.
    The thing is thit thir’s gaun oot n gaun oot. Sometimes whin ye say yir ‘gaun oot’ wi somebody it jist means thit yir ridin thum. Other times it’s a bit like ‘gaun steady’. That’s fuckin daft, like ye wir gaun crooked before. Naw, Lucy’s a bird ye go oot wi, eywis well-dressed n a virgin until ah goat a hud ay her. Thir’s birds like her, the ones ye go oot wi, n thir’s ones like Maggie n that Gail, ones ye jist ride.
    — Well if you dinnae, naebody else does, eh Terry, Gail says and gies me a wee wink.
    She’s a fuckin ride awright. Ah’m really no that bothered aboot Maggie now, ye eywis go wi the goer, n even though they’ll baith go, that Gail’s defo. Ye kin tell right away.
    The thing is but, it’s Maggie’s hoose, n wir no wantin flung oot. — Mibbe ah could convince ye, ah sais tae her. — Ye no gaunny sit oan ma knee?
    She looks aw doubtful.
    — C’mere, ah say. — C’moan, ah twist ma heid.
    Gail looks up at her, eggin her oan. — Eh’s no