The Scots version of this script is after the English one, if you’re brave enough.
Glossary of Scottish terms
Pish – piss, pee
Bog – slang for toilet
Loonie – lunatic, crazy. Also referred to as Loon.
Tunnocks – brand of mainly chocolate covered biscuits made in Scotland.
Muggins – usually referring to oneself as if you were gullible
ijit – idiot
Jakey(s) – a homeless alcoholic(s). Pronounced jay-kay.
nattering – talking
kidding – joking
Primark – mainly UK chain of cheap fast fashion clothing shops (I think there’s also some in the USA now)
Sectioned – involuntarily put into a psychiatric facility
lassie – girl, usually young, but can be used for any woman
hankies – tissues (Kleenex for our American friends)
Highers (Higher Chemistry) – qualifications in Scotland completed during the final years of Secondary school (High School) to get into university
*This is true (citation: 21 years living in Glasgow using the trains). In the winter, a lot of train services are cancelled if there’s a sprinkling of snow or a gust of wind too strong.
Script
Ugh, what a rip-off. Why do train stations charge you 50p to take a pish? Not that I really need one, I just wanted somewhere to record. I’ve not had the time, and I’ve not really wanted to. I’m recording on my phone, which is typically nearly deid, so I’ll have to make this quick.
I’m going home. Not for a holiday, or a weekend visit. I’m going there and I’m staying there, where it’s safe, and for the most part sane. I can’t be here anymore. My train’s soon, and when I get on I’ll be safe.
Hopefully no one comes in this bog or I’m going to look like a right loonie. Maybe they’re not as stupid as me paying 50p just to have a shitty place to record. Everything came to a head yesterday. It’s only been a few days since Madam Anora and her two pals visited the shop, and a day on top of that since Madam Norna left on “business”. She’s still not back, and none of us have heard for her.
I hadn’t been to the shop since the invasion, but it’s not been far from my mind. I needed answers, and it was driving me nuts not having them. I had one lecture yesterday, and I didn’t listen to a word the lecturer was saying. All I could think about was getting to the shop. As soon as the lecturer was finished speaking, and the notepads and laptops began to get packed away, I ran out of the door like a bat out of hell.
I made it to the shop in record time, wheezing as though I had a chest infection by the time I got there. I flung myself through the door, the chime of the bell resounding round the empty space of the shop. No one was there to greet me, save for Chronos lounging on his glass throne.
Out of habit I wondered, aloud, where everyone was. And then I heard an answer.
“They are upstairs gorging themselves on Tunnocks.”
It wasn’t said aloud, per se, but I heard it nonetheless. It reminded me a bit of when someone whispers in your ear, standing really close. I was that convinced that I whirled around to the door, expecting to find a bloody ghost hovering there. But there was nothing. I began to scan round the shop, eying every dark corner and strange shape. Silence reigned.
“Chronos?” I questioned the air, shakily, not really sure why.
Yes, yes, at least you have my name right, well done. I’ve never met anyone so slow, but it’s not as though you can hear me. As with everything else, you’re taking your sweet time with that.
I’d finally lost it; I’d finally gone crazy. It used to be just me, talking to the cat, but now I was actually hearing the answers as if they were being whispered to me. Whst might be stranger was that I answered.
“Well, forgive me for being slow!”
The black, delicate ears perked up at my retort. Rather than lounging on the glass counter, the wee shite shifted his position until he was sitting up, tail flicking back and forth.
“Good, you’ve started to hear me. Madam Norna will be pleased.”
A…a talking’ cat. A talking’ cat. Really? Just when you think you’re saturated with weird. I said as much to Chronos, the miracle cat. The eyes narrowed, the tail flicks became sharper.
“I’m not a talking cat, how insulting. You can hear me talk because you are now as much a part of this shop as I am, so we have a psychic link of sorts.”
A psychic link…. with a cat? I should just have given up there and then, walked out and got the first train home. But, predictably, I didn’t. Chronos wasn’t done yet, and corrected me that he wasn’t actually a cat, but the shop’s guardian.
I stared, hard. At the velvety black fur, the wee paws, the almost translucent ears, the squishy nose, and the soft chin. He was a cat, a normal, domesticated cat. The only thing he was missing was a collar with a bell.
“But, you’re so small”, I pointed out, barely keeping the laugh for my tone.
He didn’t like this, and snapped back that he wasn’t always that size. I thought you could only get small dog syndrome. Then again, why was I sceptical? I was standing in a shop where everything looked normal, like everyday items from times gone by, and every single one of them could wreak havoc on whoever bought them. Lesson finally learned. There’s always more to things than what they appear to be.
Had I always known Chronos was more than a cat? Looking back, there was probably a part of me, a very distant and quiet one that I ignored regularly, that guessed. The looks he threw me, the almost human like spitefulness, and the fact that he’s the only creature in the shop I’ve talked to the most since starting. I suppose I’m glad he talks; it means I’m no completely nuts.
Our conversation, my first conversation with a cat that wasn’t one sided, was interrupted by the private door opening. For a brief second, before it opened to reveal who was behind it, I hoped more than anything it was Madam Norna. I gulped in a breath, about to launch straight into my questions once she emerged. I’ve never been so deflated to see Fionn. But he would just have to do.
He smiled when he saw me, his usual cheeky welcome, and commented that I was early. I told him I wanted answers, and I wasn’t leaving without them. He sized me up, trying to tell if I could be persuaded to give up. He obviously decided against it and simply sighed heavily, resigned to his fate. He invited me upstairs, and I grinned.
We all piled into the front room, and it looked lonely without the Madam sitting in her usual position on the sofa. It didn’t feel like the sanctuary it usually was. I realised then that it was her who made the shop feel safe, feel mystical, and without her, all of that was just an echo.
Whether out of mindlessness or habit I took up my normal position on the floor beside the coffee table, except there was no tea steaming in front ae me. I didn’t want to sit on the Madam’s sofa or on the customer’s side. I was in the middle, literally. Not as ignorant as the latter, but nowhere near as knowledgeable as the former. The strange thing was that no one mentioned anything about the Madam’s absence. Nevertheless no one sat in her seat.
Fionn and Chronos sat on the customer’s sofa, taking a few moments of silence to gather their thoughts. I didn’t give them long before I asked about Madam Anora, more specifically what she was in respect to Madam Norna.
The two threw each other a glance filled with trepidation, and it annoyed me. Were they going to tell me the truth, or just placate me? I felt like a bairn who’s just found out Santa’s not real.
Fionn took a deep breath and launched into his explanation. From what I understood Anora is the opposite side of the same coin to Norna. Both exist to preserve a balance, whatever this balance referred to. Where my boss steps in to help people, Anora is the one that seems to cause this hurt in the first place.
The next question out my mouth was probably the most poignant. What was a Madam, and why were there two women calling themselves that? Unfortunately for me only the Madam’s themselves really knew the answer, but the word incorporated a lot. Gatekeeper, arbitrator, sooth-sayer, amongst other things. Chronos piped into this explanation by telling me that Madam was a hereditary title passed doon for one female to another, independent of blood connection.
It was after this that I began to feel sick because somewhere in the back of ma mind, I’d already connected the dots. Madam Anora had referred to me as an apprentice. Madam Norna told me that only people who need to be in the shop find their way there. Was I in the shop because I was the next Madam? Me? Muggins over here?
When Chronos confirmed I’d be the next Madam Norna I honestly thought I was going to see my breakfast again. I felt like the most stupid person on earth. Had this all been obvious? Did everyone else know, and I was the only one who didn’t? I wanted this to be a joke, for them to be pulling my leg, but just as with everything else in the shop, there’s never a punchline.
In the front room I still hadn’t processed this yet, and there were more questions I wanted answers to. How many Madams were there? According to Fionn there were only ever 2 at one time. Chronos had said I’d be the next Madam Norna; did that mean that wasn’t my boss’s real name?
The answer was truly tragic. Madam Norna is the full title, and every woman takes it as their own when they inherit said title. Are we still in the 21st century? Since when are womens’ names erased for the record? We are our names, all of our flaws, talents, and thoughts were a part of it, an individuals’ own contribution to something that would be shared by millions of different people over time. How could you be forced to give that up? How could a woman become just another number?
I asked Fionn what Madam Norna’s real name was. He said that no one ever knows, once they become Madam Norna that’s it. For the first time in our friendship I could clearly see he was lying. ya boss had told him that particular secret, and after Madam Anora’s confession the other day, I was convinced what had been between Fionn and Madam Norna had been more than I’d assumed.
(FX: dying phone battery)
Alright, I’m getting there. Anyway, I remembered whit Madam Anora had said, that relationships with familiars wasn’t encouraged. That must mean that Fionn had been my boss’s familiar at some point in time. I checked with him, and you’d have thought I’d slapped him from the despairing look on his face. In the quietest whisper imaginable, he confessed he wasn’t anymore.
I let the silence linger longer than I wished. Did I want to prod at this wound? I’d been too hesitant with ma boss, and it wasn’t really any of ma business, but still, I wanted to know, to understand.
“What happened?” I queried, trying to keep my tone level.
He hesitated before answering, and for a second I thought he was going to refuse. It was almost like something was writhing underneath his skin, making him uncomfortable. I braced myself for the worst, not really knowing what that would encompass. He confirmed, as Madam Anora had alluded to, that he and my boss had been in a relationship, beyond that of contracted familiar. The language he used, the starry look in his eye, I could tell this was something I could never understand, a bond so deep it was engraved into their bones.
And then it’d all fallen apart. Fionn had been unfaithful, those were his words, and I’ve never seen someone look so disappointed, or reluctant to remember their past mistakes. I didn’t get it. If he’d loved her so much why cheat? That wasn’t how it worked, was it?
He was scared. The look he gave me said it all. Even he didn’t believe that was a good excuse, even he could see that was weak as fuck. I wished I’d left it there, accepted the answer and moved on, but I never do, do I? I challenged him, asking him what had made him scared?
He was animated now. Not angry, but agitated, his eyes wide, brimming with regret, and his hands tying themselves in knots as if he could twist his way out of his guilt.
“You don’t understand!” he told me, “There’s no such thing as happily ever after for her….or you.”
I don’t know what it was about this sentence that struck me like a bolt of lightning. All of ma curiosity died. I didn’t want to know what that sentence meant. I don’t remember what I did or said after that. I didn’t stay in the shop long, though.
I stumbled back to the flat, somehow, and booked the next train home, and here we are, in the station bogs, talking to my dying phone. This is the first time I’ve thought about it since yesterday. I don’t know what to make of it, and yet somehow, I do. Everything’s always sinister about the shop, all the things have hidden barbs just waiting to catch some unsuspecting ijit. Was I arrogant to think I was different?
I don’t want to be Madam Norna, that’s no something I put on my careers form in school! So I’m out, I’m going’ home, the universe can find someone else.
Ah shite, my train. I need to go.
(Audio cuts out)
(FX: muffled noise as Maya takes her phone out of her bag and puts it on the bathroom counter)
At least I didn’t have to pay to get into this one. Why is it just train stations, why no bus stations as well? Is it only jakeys that take the bus, so can’t afford to pay for the bog as well as the fare?
I fucking hate this country sometimes, why is the train service so shite? The slightest bit of bad weather and the entire network just collapses*. I went to check my train, only to find it was cancelled. But I’m not giving up. I trekked all the way from the train station, through the pissing rain, to the bus terminal. I’ll just get the coach home.
(FX: dying battery)
Five minutes, just five minutes. A weird thing happened just now. I’d got here, bought my ticket, and found an uncomfortable seat to sit in. The terminal isn’t as busy as the train station, probably because buses are shite and take ages. It was boring, my coach isn’t for another 45 minutes yet, so I was trying to read a book, occasionally glancing to the board hoping beyond all hope that my bus would jump miraculously to the top of the list of departures.
The seat beside me was empty, but not for long. This woman planted her arse down, nattering away on her phone so loudly you’d have thought she was going deaf. I glared at her, but she didn’t take any notice. I hoped she’d stop, but who was I kidding, when do people like that ever? I was just about to say something to her, in the realms of telling her to fuck off, when I noticed this bracelet hanging from her wrist. I don’t know why it caught my eye. It was on the hand that was holding the bloody phone up to her ear, which was right beside me.
It looked to be gold, a wee bit dulled with age and wear, and had these pink crystal-like stones studded all the way round it. if I didn’t know any better, and I hope I do by now, I would’ve said that all of these gems were pulsating, like they had a heartbeat of their own. I thought it was maybe a reflection, one of the lights in the terminus was flickering, or the police or fire brigade had just gone past with only their lights flashing.
But no, that wasn’t it. The pulsing wasn’t quick enough to be either of those things. This was like a rhythmic heartbeat. Thud, thud, thud, and every time the gems would become darker, almost blood red, before fading to their original colour. I couldn’t take my eyes off this bracelet, and the more I stared, the more I noticed. It was blurry, and I know what that means by now. This wasn’t a bracelet from Primark, this thing belonged in the shop.
Curious, I began to listen to her conversation. I couldn’t tell who was on the other end, but she was telling them that she’d been lethargic lately, she had no energy to do anything, even going upstairs was hard. She put it all down to being unfit.
I’ll give her a pass on the stairs, even I get out of breath going up a few flights, but this fatigue she was feeling couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? Not with a bracelet like that on her wrist.
Was the bracelet’s heartbeat actually her own? Was it somehow draining the energy out of her? Why was I getting the horrible feeling that the bracelet wouldn’t stop until the stones were blood red, and its current owner dead? It’s always sinister. Why can’t these bits of jewellery ever do nice things, like give you energy, or bring good fortune? For fuck’s sake.
I wanted to let her keep it, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t because she was being a selfish cow by talking loudly on the phone. But even I believe the punishment should fit the crime, and death was a bit extreme. I had no doubt the damned thing would kill her eventually if I left it. Which left the problem of how to get it off of her?
I couldn’t just ask for it, and it wasn’t like I could tell her the truth. Oh, excuse me, I think that bonnie bracelet is gonnae kill you, can I just take it? Aye right, I’d be sectioned.
And then I had a rare stroke of genius.
Once she’d hung up her phone I put my most polite smile on my face and complimented her on such a pretty bracelet, before asking her where she’d got it from. I half expected her to say the antique shop, but she answered her Mum had found it at an antique’s fair. It was close enough, although I’ll never be going to an antique’s fair until the day I die.
She was all proud of this bracelet, beaming as she told me where it’d come from. I almost felt bad about what I was about to do. Almost. I shifted my tone into hesitancy, before telling her the only reason I’d asked is because it looked exactly like a bracelet that’d caused a lot of trouble in the 90s. Her face fell, the happiness faded.
Just as I’d wanted, this bait was too juicy to leave, and she asked me to elaborate. I told her about this bracelet that was all the rage back then, every lassie wanted one, but it turned out they’d coated the gold in some form of corrosive material and that lassies’ skin had started to flake off because of it.
Her face fell, going ghost white, and I successfully kept the smile from my face. She inspected her wrist and the delicate skin there, informing me that she’d had it on for weeks and nothing had happened. This wasn’t a problem for me. I told her that the symptoms had taken months to appear, when this made-up substance had reacted to oils in the skin, but by then the damage had been done. To put the cherry on top, I mused that it might not be the same bracelet, but would she really want to take the chance?
Christ, she almost ripped it off her wrist. I’d at least expected some amount of disbelief, or some more questions, but this poor lassie took me at face value. I grabbed a few hankies for my bag and held them out to the woman, explaining that I was actually a chemist so I knew how to dispose of it properly. She didn’t have to know I got a C in Higher chemistry.
She dropped it into the hankie as though it were infected with the plague, all previous pride and happiness gone. I wrapped it up and stuffed it in the side pocket of my bag, not really sure what to do with it now. It’s not like I’m going back to the shop, but I don’t want to just toss it, what if someone else finds it?
It’ll just have to stay in there for now. My bus is soon, only 30 more minutes until I finally get out of here. Hopefully, the next time I record I’ll be drinking ma Dad’s freshly brewed tea.
(FX: beep of the recording ending)
(FX: another beep rainy footsteps, rain in the background)
For fuck’s sake, why is nothing going right today? All I want to do is get home. Am I not even allowed to do that anymore? If the buses are fucking cancelled, I’ll just call ma Dad, he’ll come and pick me up. But there’s no signal anywhere, so I’ll just walk until I find some, or walk until I’m home, should only take a few days.
(FX: low battery)
(Almost sobbing) No, don’t do this to me now. I need you to call ma Dad, he needs to come and get me, I need to go home.
(FX: in the background someone calls Maya’s name, footsteps stop as she turns around)
Reid? How the fuck….you know what, I don’t care. You can fuck off back to the shop, I’m not going with you, I’m going home.
(PAUSE: Unintelligible voice in the background)
‘Cause I’ve not been in ages.
(PAUSE: Unintelligible voice in the background)
No, I’m going home now.
(PAUSE: Unintelligible voice in the background)
Nothing happened, and even it if did it’s none of your business. Go back to the shop, Reid, I don’t need you.
I told ye to fuck o-
(FX: phone beeps for the last time as it switches off)
Scots version
Ugh, whit a rip-off. Why do train stations charge you 50p tae take a pish? No that I really need one, I just wanteed somewhere tae record. I’ve no had the time, and I’ve no really wanteed tae. I’m recordin’ on ma phone, which is typically nearly deid, so I’ll have tae make this quick.
I’m goin’ home. No for a holiday, or a weekend visit. I’m goin there and I’m stayin’ there, where it’s safe, and fae the most part sane. I cannae be here anymore. Ma train’s soon, and when I get on, I’ll be safe.
Hopefully no one comes in this bog or I’m gonnae look like a right loonie. Maybe they’re no as stupid as me payin’ 50p just tae have a shitty place tae record. Everythin’ came tae a heid yesterday. It’s only been a few days since Madam Anora and her two pals visiteed the shop, and a day on top ae that since Madam Norna left on “business”. She’s still no back, and none ae us have heard fae her.
I hadnae been tae the shop since the invasion, but it’d no been far frae ma mind. I needeed answers, and it was drivin’ me nuts no havin’ them. I had one lecture yesterday, and I didnae listen tae a word the lecturer was sayin. All I could think aboot was getting’ tae the shop. As soon as the lecturer finished speakin, and the notepads and laptops began tae get packed away, I ran oot ae the door like a bat oot ae hell.
I made it tae the shop in record time, wheezin’ as though I had a chest infection by the time I got there. I flung maself through the door, the chime ae the bell resoundin’ roond the empty space ae the shop. No one was there tae greet me, save fae Chronos loungin’ on his glass throne.
Oot ae habit I wondered, aloud, where everyone was. And then I heard an answer.
“They are upstairs gorging themselves on Tunnocks.”
It wasnae said aloud, per se, but I heard it nonetheless. It reminded me a bit ae when someone whispers in your ear, standin’ really close. I was that convinced that I whirled aroond tae the door, expectin’ tae find a bloody ghost hoverin’ there. But there was nothin’. I began tae scan roond the shop, eyin’ every dark corner and strange shape. Silence reigned.
“Chronos?” I questioned the air, shakily, no really sure why.
Yes, yes, at least you have my name right, well done. I’ve never met anyone so slow, but it’s not as though you can hear me. As with everything else, you’re taking your sweet time with that.
I’d finally lost it; I’d finally gone crazy. It used tae be just me, talkin’ tae the cat, but noo I was actually hearin’ the answers as if they were bein’ whispered tae me. Whit might be stranger was that I answered.
“Well, forgive me fae bein’ slow!”
The black, delicate ears perked up at my retort. Rather than loungin’ on the glass counter, the wee shite shifted his position until he was sittin’ up, tail flickin’ back and forth.
Good, you’ve started to hear me. Madam will be pleased.
A…a talkin’ cat. A talkin’ cat. Really? Just when ye think you’re saturateed wi’ weird. I said as much tae Chronos, the miracle cat. The eyes narrowed, the tail flicks became sharper.
I’m not a talking cat, how insulting, you can hear me talk because you are now as much a part of this shop as I am, so we have a psychic link of sorts.
A psychic link….wi’ a cat? I should just ha geein’ up there and then, walked oot and got the first train home. But, predictably, I didnae. Chronos wasnae done yet, and correcteed me that he wasnae actually a cat, but the shop’s guardian.
I stared, hard. At the velvety black fur, the wee paws, the almost translucent ears, the squishy nose, and the soft chin. He was a cat, a normal, domesticateed cat. The only ‘hing he was missin’ was a collar wi’ a bell.
“But, you’re so small”, I pointed oot, barely keepin’ the laugh fae ma tone.
He didnae like this and snapped back that he wasnae always that size. I thought you could only get small dog syndrome. Then again, why was I sceptical? I was standin’ in a shop where everythin’ looked normal, like every day items frae times gone by, and every single one ae them could wreak havoc on whoever bought them. Lesson finally learned. There’s always more tae ‘hings than what they appear tae be.
Had I always known Chronos was more than a cat? Lookin’ back, there was probably a part ae me, a very distant and quiet one that I ignored regularly, that guessed. The looks he threw me, the almost human like spitefulness, and the fact that he’s the only creature in the shop I’ve talked tae the most since startin’. I suppose I’m glad he talks; it means I’m no completely nuts.
Our conversation, my first conversation wi’ a cat that wasnae one sideed, was interrupteed by the private door opening. Fae a brief second, before it opened tae reveal who was behind it, I hoped more than anything it was Madam Norna. I gulped in a breath, aboot to launch straight intae ma questions once she emerged. I’ve never been so deflateed tae see Fionn. But he would just have tae do.
He smiled when he saw me, his usual cheeky welcome, and commenteed that I was early. I told him I wanteed answers, and I wasnae leavin’ withoot them. He sized me up, tryin’ tae tell if I could be persuadeed tae give up. He obviously decideed against it and simply sighed heavily, resigned tae his fate. He invited me upstairs, and I grinned.
We all piled intae the front room, and it looked lonely withoot the Madam sittin’ in her usual position on the sofa. It didnae feel like the sanctuary it usually was. I realised then that it was her who made the shop feel safe, feel mystical, and withoot her, all ae that was just an echo.
Whether oot ae mindlessness or habit I took up ma normal position on the floor beside the coffee table, except there was no tea steamin’ in front ae me. I didnae want tae sit on the Madam’s sofa or on the customer’s side. I was in the middle, literally. No as ignorant as the latter, but nowhere near as knowledgeable as the former. The strange ‘hing was that no one mentioned anythin’ aboot the Madam’s absence, nevertheless no one sat in her seat.
Fionn and Chronos sat on the customer’s sofa, taking a few moments ae silence tae gather their thoughts. I didnae gee them long before I asked about Madam Anora, more specifically whit she was in respect tae Madam Norna.
The two threw each other a glance filled wi’ trepidation, and it annoyed me. Were they gonnae tell me the truth, or just placate me? I felt like a bairn who’s just found oot Santa’s no real.
Fionn took a deep breath and launched intae his explanation. Fae whit I understood Anora is the opposite side ae the same coin tae Norna. Both exist tae preserve a balance, whitever this balance referred tae. Where ma boss steps in tae help people, Anora is the one that seems tae cause this hurt in the first place.
The next question oot ma mouth was probably the most poignant. Whit was a Madam, and why were there two women callin’ themselves that? Unfortunately, fae me only the Madam’s themselves really knew the answer, but the word incorporateed a lot. Gatekeeper, arbitrator, sooth-sayer, amongst other ‘hings. Chronos piped intae this explanation by tellin’ me that Madam was a hereditary title passed doon fae one female tae another, independent ae blood connection.
It was after this that I began tae feel sick because somewhere in the back ae ma mind, I’d already connecteed the dots. Madam Anora had referred tae me as an apprentice. Madam Norna told me that only people who need tae be in the shop find their way there. Was I in the shop because I was the next Madam? Me? Muggins over here?
When Chronos confirmed I’d be the next Madam Norna I honestly thought I was gonnae see ma breakfast again. I felt like the most stupid person on earth. Had this all been obvious? Did everyone else know, and I was the only one who didn’t? I wanted this tae be a joke, fae them tae be pullin’ ma leg, but just as wi’ everything else in the shop, there’s never a punchline.
In the front room I still hadnae processed this yet, and there were more questions I wanted answers tae. How many Madam’s were there? Accordin’ tae Fionn there were only ever 2 at the one time. Chronos had said I’d be the next Madam Norna, did that mean that wasnae ma boss’s real name?
The answer was truly tragic. Madam Norna is the full title, and every woman takes it as their own when they inherit said title. Are we still in the 21st century? Since when are women’s names erased fae the record? We are our names, all ae our flaws, talents and thoughts were a part ae it, an individuals’ own contribution tae something that would be shared by millions of different people over time. How could ye be forced tae gee that up? How could women become just another number?
I asked Fionn whit Madam Norna’s real name was. He said that no one ever knows, once they become Madam Norna that’s it. fae the first time in our friendship I could clearly see he was lyin’. Ma boss had told him that particular secret, and after Madam Anora’s confession the other day, I was convinced whit had been between Fionn and Madam Norna had been more than I’d assumed.
(FX: dying battery)
Alright, I’m gettin’ there. Anyway, I remembered whit Madam Anora had said, that relationships wi’ familiars wasnae encouraged. That must mean that Fionn had been ma boss’s familiar, at some point in time. I checked wi him, and ye’d have thought I’d ha slapped him fae the despairin’ look on his face. In the quietest whisper imaginable, he confessed he wasnae anymore.
I let the silence linger longer than I wished. Did I want tae prod at this wound? I’d been too hesitant wi’ ma boss, and it wasnae really any ae ma business, but still, I wanteed tae know, tae understand.
What happened? I queried, tryin’ tae keep ma tone level.
He hesitateed’ before answerin, and fae a second I thought he was gonnae refuse. It was almost like somethin’ was writhing’ underneath his skin, makin’ him uncomfortable. I braced maself fae the worst, no really knowin’ whit that would encompass. He confirmed, as Madam Anora had alluded tae, that he and ma boss had been in a relationship, beyond that ae contracted familiar. The language he used, the starry look in his eye, I could tell this was somethin’ I could never understand, a bond so deep it was engraved intae their bones.
And then it’d all fallen apart. Fionn had been unfaithful, those were his words, and I’ve never seen someone look so disappointeed, or reluctant tae remember their past mistakes. I didnae get it, if he’d loved her so much why cheat? That wasnae how it worked, was it?
He was scared. The look he gee me said it all. Even he didnae believe that was a good excuse, even he could see that was weak as fuck. I wished I’d left it there, accepteed the answer and moved on, but I never do, do I? I challenged him, askin’ him whit had made him scared?
He was animated noo. No angry, but agitated, his eyes wide, brimming wi’ regret, and his hands tyin’ themselves in knots as if he could twist his way oot ae his guilt.
“You don’t understand!” he told me, “There’s no such ‘hing as happily ever after fae her….or you.”
I dinnae know whit it was aboot this sentence that struck me like a bolt ae lightning. All ae ma curiosity died. I didnae want tae know whit that sentence meant. I dinnae remember whit I did or said after that. I didnae stay in the shop long, though.
I stumbled back to the flat, somehow, and booked the next train home, and here we are, in the station bogs, talkin’ tae ma dyin’ phone. This is the first time I’ve thought aboot it since yesterday. I dinnae know whit tae make ae it, and yet somehow I do. Everything’s always sinister aboot the shop, all ae the ‘hings have hidden barbs just waitin’ tae catch some unsuspecting ijit. Was I arrogant tae ‘hink I was different?
I dinnae want tae be Madam Norna, that’s no somethin’ I put on ma careers form in school! So I’m oot, I’m goin’ home, the universe can find someone else.
Ae shite, ma train. I need tae go.
(Recording stops)
(FX: muffled noise as Maya takes her phone out of her bag and puts it on the bathroom counter)
At least I didnae have tae pay tae get intae this one. Why is it just train stations, why no bus stations as well? Is it only jakeys that take the bus, so cannae afford tae pay fae the bog as well as the fare?
I fuckin’ hate this country sometimes, why is the train service so shite? The slightest bit ae bad weather and the entire network just collapsees. I went tae check ma train, only tae find it was cancelled. But I’m no givin’ up. I trekked all the way frae the train station, through the pissin rain, tae the bus terminal. I’ll just get the coach home.
(FX: dying battery)
Five minutes, just five minutes. A weird ‘hing happened just now. I’d got here, bought ma ticket, and found an uncomfortable seat tae sit in. The terminal isnae as busy as the train station, probably because buses are shite and take agees. It was borin, ma coach isnae fae another 45 minutes yet, so I was tryin’ tae read a book, occasionally glancing tae the board hopin’ beyond all hope that ma bus would jump miraculously tae the top ae the list ae departures.
The seat beside me was empty, but no fae long. This woman planted her arse doon, natterin’ away on her phone so loudly you’d have thought she was goin deaf. I glared at her, but she didnae take any notice. I hoped she’d stop, but who was I kiddin, when do people like that ever? I was just aboot tae say somethin’ tae her, in the realms of tellin’ her tae fuck off, when I noticed this bracelet hangin’ fae her wrist. I dinnae know why it caught ma eye. It was on the hand that was holdin’ the bloody phone up tae her ear, which was right beside me.
It looked tae be gold, a wee bit dulled wi age and wear, and had these pink crystal like stones studded all the way roond it. if I didnae know any better, and I hope I do by noo, I wouldae said that all ae these gems were pulsatin’, like they had a heartbeat ae their own. I thought it was maybe a reflection, one ae the lights in the terminus was flickerin’, or the police or fire brigade had just gone past wi’ only their lights flashin’.
But no, that wasnae it. The pulsin’ wasnae quick enough to be eaither ae those things. This was like a rhythmic heartbeat. Thud, thud, thud, and every time the gems would become darker, almost blood red, before fadin’ tae their original colour. I couldnae take ma eyes aff this bracelet, and the more I stared, the more I noticed. It was blurry, and I know whit that means by noo. This wasnae a bracelet frae Primark, this ‘hing belonged in the shop.
Curious, I began tae listen tae her conversation. I coldnae tell who was on the other end, but she was tellin’ them that she’d been lethargic lately, she had no energy tae do anythin’, even goin’ upstairs was hard. She put it all doon tae bein unfit.
I’ll gee her a pass on the stairs, even I get oot ae breath goin’ up a few flights, but this fatigue she was feelin couldnae be a coincidence, could it? No wi’ a bracelet like that on her wrist.
Was the bracelet’s heartbeat actually her own? Was it somehow drainin’ the energy oot ae her? Why was I getting’ the horrible feelin’ that the bracelet wouldnae stop until the stones were blood red, and it’s current owner deid? It’s always sinister. Why can’t these bits ae jewellery ever do nice ‘hings, like gee you energy, or bring good fortune? Fae fuck’s sake.
I wanted tae let her keep it, and I’d be lyin’ if I said it wasnae because she was being a selfish cow by talkin’ loudly on the phone. But even I believe the punishment should fit the crime, and death was a bit extreme. I had no doubt the damned ‘hing would kill her eventually if I left it. which left the problem ae how tae get it aff ae her?
I couldnae just ask fae it, and it wasnae like I could tell her the truth. Oh, I think that bonnie bracelet is gonnae kill you, can I just take it? Aye right, I’d be sectioned. And then I had a rare stroke ae genius.
Once she’d hung up her phone, I put ma most polite smile on ma face and complimenteed her on such a pretty bracelet, before askin’ her where she’d got it frae. I half expecteed her tae say the antique shop, but she answered her Ma’ had found it at an antique’s faire. It was close enough, although I’ll never be goin’ tae an antique’s faire until the day I die.
She was all proud ae this bracelet, beamin’ as she told me where it’d come frae. I almost felt bad aboot whit I was aboot tae do. Almost. I altered ma tone intae hesitancy, before tellin’ her the only reason I’d asked is because it looked exactly like a bracelet that’d caused a lot ae trouble in the 90s. Her face fell, the happiness fadeed.
Just as I’d wanteed, this bait was too juicy tae leave, and she asked me tae elaborate. I told her aboot this bracelet that was all the rage back then, every lassie wanteed one, but it turned oot they’d coateed the gold in some form ae corrosive material and that lassies’ skin had starteed tae flake aff because ae it.
Her face fell, goin ghost white, and I successfully kept the smile fae ma face. She inspected her wrist and the delicate skin, informin’ me that she’d had it on fae weeks and nothin’ had happened. This wasnae a problem fae me. I told her that the symptoms had taken months tae appear, when this made up substance had reacted tae oils in the skin, but by then the damage had been done. Tae put the cherry on top, I mused that it might no be the same bracelet, but would she really want tae take the chance?
Christ, she almost ripped it aff her wrist. I’d at least expecteed some amount ae disbelief, or some more questions, but this poor lassie took me at face value. I grabbed a few hankies fae ma bag and held them oot tae the woman, explainin that I was actually a chemist so I knew how tae dispose ae it properly. She didnae have tae know I got a C in Higher chemistry.
She dropped it intae the hankie as though it were infecteed wi the plague, all previous pride and happiness gone. I wrapped it up and stuffed it in the side pocket ae ma bag, no really sure whit tae do wi’ it noo. It’s no like I’m goin’ back tae the shop, but I dinnae want tae just toss it, whit if someone else finds it?
It’ll just have tae stay in there fae noo. Ma bus is soon, only 30 more minutes until I finally get oot ae here. Hopefully, the next time I record I’ll be drinkin’ ma Da’s freshly brewed tea.
(FX: beep of the recording ending)
(FX: another beep rainy footsteps, rain in the background)
Fae fuck’s sake, why is nothin’ goin’ right today? All I want tae do is get home. Am I no even allowed tae do that anymore? If the buses are fuckin’ cancelled, I’ll just call ma Da’, he’ll come and pick me up. But there’s no signal anywhere, so I’ll just walk until I find some, or walk until I’m home, should only take a few days.
(FX: low battery)
(Almost sobbing) No, don’t dae this tae me noo. I need ye tae call ma Da’, he needs tae come and get me, I need tae go home.
(FX: in the background someone calls Maya’s name, footsteps stop as she turned around)
Reid? How the fuck….ye know what, I dinnae care. Ye can fuck aff back tae the shop, I’m no goin’ wi ye, I’m goin’ home. (PAUSE) ‘Cause I’ve no been in agees. (PAUSE) No, I’m goin’ home noo. (PAUSE) Nothin’ happened, and even it if did it’s none ae your business. Go back tae the shop, Reid, I dinnae need ye.
I told ye tae fuck a-ff…
(FX: phone beeps for the last time as it switches off)