"Blakey on Tour - Part 14"

(An ongoing story. Part one here)

'So yis think ah'm this Highlander just because ah come from Scotland? Is that it?'

I slammed the van door and handed Jock one of the two stakes I had. I weren't expecting to use em but you had to protect yourself out here in Hurk Wood. Especially when barmy kebab men is burning human carcasses on bonfires. 'Woss you being Scottish got to do with shite?'

'Well, to start with there's the wee matter of Highlanders being from Scotland.'

'Jock...' I says, looking at him with the patience of a dad telling his son that Father Christmas ain't real, and that the lad's a fucking twat if he thinks different. I had to find the right words here cos I didn't want Jock believing himself to be a twat, like that lad. There can be only one Highlander, and he must not think he is a twat. 'Jock, I hate to break it to you, mate, but Highlanders ain't from Scotland.'

'What are yis oan about, Royston? If Highlanders are no from Scotland, where do yis think they're from?'

I looked at me watch: ten PM. Didn't seem five minutes ago I were rolling out of me pit that afternoon and deciding to go on me hols finally. I'd also made a couple of other big decisions about the way I were living my life, which I'll tell you about later. The point were that I'd started the day off so well and now look at us – out in the sticks, wearing the filthiest trousers in history and teaching a Scottish nutter about geography. 'Jock,' I says, 'the clue is in the title, mate. I mean, "Highlander" – think about it.'

I could see the cogs turning but fuck all happening.

With some folks, you just have to spell things out for em.

'Highlanders is from Highland, for fuck sake,' I says. 'I thought you of all people would of knowed that, being one yerself. And by the fuckin' way – there's no such thing as "Highlanders". There can be only one of em.'

'Highland? Royston, there's nae such place as "Highland". There's the High—'

'Jock, look, it's a lot for yers to take in, I know. But you just gotta trust us here - Highland exists.'

'Aye? And where do yis think this "Highland" is?'

'It's... I think it's near, erm...'

'And wherever you think it is, I'm no from there, Royston. I'm from Kilmarnock. So how can I be one o' these High—?'

'For fuck sake, Jock, it ain't about wheres and whys, it's about whats, right? And what you is, right, is an 'Ighlander. Now shut yer fuckin' face and get shifting.'

I did feel a bit bad for the way I'd handled things there. This were all new for Jock, and I ought to be more gentle with him. Mind you, it were new for me as well. But I couldn't let Jock know that. I had to be like Sean Connery in the film, all deep and philosophical and wearing a stupid fucking hat.

'Can I just ask yis one more question?' he says.

'Aye but it better be a good un. They been shite so far.'

We was yomping now, following a track that took you into the woods and ran alongside a gulley so deep you couldn't see the bottom of it. Once or twice I'd kicked a stone in that direction and harked it go over the edge, but never hit the bottom. I didn't like this end of Hurk Wood cos it were a lot denser and not many used it, so the branches and brambles and shite grew right into the path and snagged your togs as you went past. I had a torch though so I were alright.

'Aaagh,' yells Jock behind us. 'Fuck sake, what wis that?'

'Is that the best question you can come up with? I gotta say, Jock, I were expecting summat more—'

'I've caught mah arm in some briars here. Can yis no help?'

I rolled me eyes, booted a tree trunk and shouted a few choice words, but I did manage to hide my impatience. It were important, like I telled you. 'Jock, I'm on a fuckin' mission here. Can't you see? Do you truly reckon I got time to fuck around with you and your fuckin' brambles?'

'I can no see anythin', Royston. Is theer any chance I could hold that wee torch?'

'I'm in front, I gets to hold it.'

'Well can I no go in front?'

'No you can't.'

'Why? Ah'm no good in the dark, Royston, and—'

I tuned out his whinging for a minute while some interesting thoughts popped into me swede and sat down in the little waiting area I got up there. As a deep thinker I gets a lot of things occurring to us, and when you gets more than one at a time they starts shouting and having a pop at each other and trying to get in first. I couldn't have that, especially with me being a head doorman, which is where the waiting area came in. Mine were a top one, with nice brown sofas and a telly on the wall showing Rocky films, porn vids or Coronation Street, depending on who were in at the minute. Best of all I had a secretary keeping it all calm and flirting with the blokes within reason. If I had to describe her to you I'd say she were exactly like Rache, but with a short skirt, stilettos and a tight blouse that showed off her tits. Actually there were no flirting with the blokes. They tried it on with her alright, but she always put em in their place with a polite smile and a firm shake of the swede. She knowed who her boss were, our Rache did.

Anyhow, the main thought that had turned up just now were about Highlander, as in the film, namely the bit about halfway in where he's in the boat with Sean Connery, who is like his teacher of all matters Highlandish. Connery starts rocking the boat and Highlander's moaning about it, saying he's gonna fall in and he can't swim, so fucking pack it in, Connery. But Connery ain't having it, and rocks even more. He rocks so hard that Highlander falls in. Not being a swimmer, he splashes around and starts screaming like a fucking girl.

And Connery ain't having none of that, neither. 'Stop being a fuckin' ponce,' he shouts. I dunno if it's exactly them words but it's near enough. 'Highlanders can't die, you fuckin' twat, so you ain't gonna drown. Go on and sink to the bottom of this here lake and have a gander down there, then walk along and I'll meet you over there on the shore. Bring a couple o' fish, eh. And some chips.'

The thought I had in me swede, who had just come in from the waiting area and parked across the desk from us, were about me having the same situation here with Jock. He thought he couldn't see, and that he were getting fucked around by the wood with all its thorns and darkness and shite. But he could see. Actually I dunno, cos he did have them fat glasses on so his eyes were shite anyhow, but the point weren't about that – it were about Highlanders being indestructible. But they don't know it yet, and you have to force them to find out.

I got Jock by the arm, whispering soothing wossnames into his ear, led him up to a gap in the undergrowth and shoved him into the gulley.


(Come back tomorrow for more...)