Rab was wearing his cheap sun glasses. He was always wearing dark glasses. He claimed he was photo-sensitive, but he just didn't want any cunt tae see his eyes. They say the eyes are the windows of the soul and that cunt had no soul; but he had Mo. I'd have given my own soul tae be with Mo.
"Nah Johnny, Maureen will do her dinger if I'm late hame again."
"One wee drink cannae dae nae hairm Rab. We'll just be a minute."
"Aye, and if she finds oot ah was drinkin..."
"Who's goany tell her like? C'mon, one wee drink."
Rab relented, I knew he would. Nae alky can refuse free drink. Rab had it bad. The doctor had warned him that he was drinking himself into an early grave, but that wasn't deterrent enough for Rab. You'd think the thought of losing Mo might inspire him, but he took her for granted. He always had. She had carried him for twenty years or more. The cunt had never done a day’s work in his life. Rab just lurched fae one crisis tae the next while Mo skivvied for him; picking up his broken pieces and tending his wounds.
Maureen was a beautiful woman and I had loved her from afar since Rab first introduced us two decades before. We were best mates Rab and I. We still were, as far as Rab was concerned, but I watched him drain the soul from that woman and I wished him gone.
"Another pint Rab?" - we'd had four already.
"No thanks Johnny - ah've got tae head hame. Maureen will be worried..."
"One mair for the road then - one last pint - then we go."
"Maureen will freak if she smells the drink oan me."
"Get some mints oan the way home - and for fucks sake dinnae tell her I was buying - I'll never hear the end of it."
"I widnae grass ye up Johnny - we're mates, right?"
"Aye, we're mates Rab."
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