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Authors: James Kelman

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it is I that say it myself, myself, having walked in the mountains and there are streams throughout, down from the higher peaks. This water is the purer, clear and cold, it is
healthy water, no living thing has touched this water. I can take you there, if your mother is also home, where she is, if she will be come home then. Do you have a letter from your mother? If your
grandmother hears of her, perhaps she does and has had a letter from her, your mother, you can ask your grandmother of this. I shall be home soon.

Here is not so good as home. People here are strangers to me, you would also think it. I work with funny men, they say things that are funny but sometimes I do not like them.
It is necessary work. Until it is finished I shall be here but perhaps it will finish sooner. Here it is flat and if there is a little hill people say of it it is a mountain, you might laugh to
hear them

If your mother has spoken to your grandparents, perhaps she has, you may ask them

I have written this letter to your mother. I do not know where you are. I have heard of our daughter, she is good, healthy, a friend has said it to me, he is trusted. What is
wrong? How are you, if you are in good health, nothing has happened to you

I have written this to your mother. How are you? Are you in good health? I think here of yourself, and our daughter, how is our daughter, is she in good health. She should
have friends. It is not so fine where I now am, people are not the same, they are not what to say I think trusted, I say that I do not trust them but what that is to say who is one to trust, in all
this life, do we trust people, how many, if we have one person to trust then we trust him but how many might there be, if I complain, yes, I am the greater fool, and without you

44
“newcomer, I am the fool”

She had not found space by the wall for many others were there, also two babies, one who would not sleep. I had gone for something, now returning with it in one container, tea,
also one cigarette. The space was to the centre of the floor, she was seated there, covering drawn to her waist. She was exhausted I was exhausted, more. So, in the darkness now, stepping over
bodies, not spilling liquid, passing the container to her, sitting down close to her, now lying farther, farther, my head at her waist, we smoked the cigarette, later she was placing her hand to my
forehead, closing my eyes as the child, as I would to a child, now feeling the covering, draught of it, she having drawn it over my body, once more her hand to my forehead, it becoming as a weight
on me, until then I was hearing music from childhood days, religious times, yes in my head choral music, these low drums, also tapping hands, other sounds, and other sounds also there and I was
coming awake, this fellow’s voice, stranger’s voice, he had arrived in our space, sitting here by my companion, and whispering to her. If he was a security, it was possible, where
silence was the answer, who was not there and the room in darkness and the whining of the one baby, now moaning, it was its lungs, little thing, and not good. My eyelids were closed, it was thought
I was sleeping, I did not open them, only listening listening but I could not make sense, I did not know this voice, who was he. And now my companion spoke, yes if there was agitation in her voice,
yes, I heard it but that as I lay next to her and was to the other side from this newcomer, who spoke so quietly to her on the side other than myself. What she did say, nor what this other said to
her, I do not know, sounds and not any sense, a droning. Anxiety was in her voice. Certainly.

I opened my eyes only a little, that I might not to be seen. Who else might be there. There only was he, that one. But this space was small, who else might have entered. But outside this area I
could not say, if others, yes, perhaps waiting for this one beyond here.

He was speaking as forcing an issue onto her, that I was not present, addressing herself alone, so for him I was not in existence. If he was entirely a stranger to myself, he was not so to my
companion. I understood this, he was familiar. Only something in her, lightness of tone in speaking, easy manner, I cannot say, perhaps as in movement how she stretched her legs, confidence also
was there in her. Yes she knew this man. Intimately perhaps, it is possible. I worried so at these earlier moments and could not discard the thought. Yet also in my companion there was caution,
knowing him she did not trust him, what it was there, personal impersonal, what it was, I sensed it there. A silence had come between them, and my throat now, irritation, my mouth dry my throat
dry, yes, we had smoked the cigarette earlier. I would have reached for the container, perhaps tea remained there. Perhaps my companion had given it to this stranger. He was speaking again,
whispering, so not to disturb people around, also for eavesdroppers, some always were awake, seeing things hearing things.

Who was he. I could suppose. If in former days political, they might say. I say security, then as now. But if these two had been in struggle together, why should she not say, afterwards she
might say it to me. We would speak.

We did so together. Not for every thing. I did not say to her she was beautiful, I did not say to her how I loved to see her, only to see her. Our coming together was a recent thing. Intimacy.
What is meant by this. The sexual act, of course but also intimacy meaning moments together, safely, safety, if to relax and as then if asleep by her, safekeeping.

If she knew this stranger. She knew him, it is beyond doubt. I lay still, listening. In his voice was humour, irony, yes and also there I heard someone cynical, his quiet quiet voice oh do not
trust this man.

Who could care for this. I did not. Oh yes, pretending analysis, international situations, worldly perspectives. I now could make sense and knew it, knew also it was not serious from him.
Analysis of the situation, the political, all manoeuvres and movements, intervention from unlikely sources, foreign sources. No, he could not be trusted, even as he spoke. Surely my companion knew
this. If she might listen to this in seriousness, no, I could not believe it. I made the movement as waking, opening my eyes, blinking, yawning, other detail, looking to herself but then to the
newcomer, and puzzled. And my companion looked to me, gestured at him. I was yawning again and she whispered to me, He is repeating a lecture. Hear him, it is a lecture.

But you know different, I said.

I know different, yes.

But she had not liked that I spoke to her as I did. I looked to the newcomer, to her again. And in my look was my question but no, she did not introduce this man, neither himself, he did not do
so.

What then I was to do, what, leave this place where we were. What was expected of myself. No. I did not know. I smiled but faltered and only I think was staring, I do not know. It was in
darkness there and others were around, children also as I have said babies and not all were sleeping and if someone smoked the light also would affect us and all were conscious of others during
this period and would not talk loudly and would be careful for others, how else, if there is continuation we must take such routes for other people, each of these days was survival, are we to
survive I am to survive, and my neighbours, what are the children here may we look after them, the lungs of the baby, what, what anyone is to do, the mother or the father who were like myself,
young people. Yes, I was young, if so, growing older.

The newcomer scratched his ear. I understood he was expecting of her that she might know this scratching as a sign, signifying an experience shared, as from a former period that they were
together, knowledge one to another, intimacy of them, shared of them. I knew it. It was certain. But if he wanted her to recall this shared moment she did not, did not, nor any response to him.

He now was silent, waiting for some other thing, perhaps of myself, response of a different form, might I enter into this, if we were in competition. He would fight with me. Yes. If he was
fighting for her, aggression certainly was in him, and subtlety of voice also, yes, he was a dangerous man. But I too, also, if he thought to intimidate myself then we might see, let us, we can see
what would happen. But if he was a security. There was no sign from my companion, none to myself. Under the covering her leg lay against mine, she was not removing it, also now from her was a
pressure, and I laid my hand onto her thigh, and in a moment her leg was into a new position and I moved my hand, from her. And he was speaking again now in his quiet quiet voice, conversing, it
was simply that, he was here to be conversing, waking us from sleep that he might simply converse, his nonsense talk, international affairs and relations yes we do not know this, cannot understand
this cannot comprehend this I am a poor peasant of the low low classes of people, lower classes of people. Who has power, yes not myself, not myself, not we. I listened to him

listened to him

What was happening. I was not in battle, not fighting. In warfare, what warfare. Certainly for himself, if this was fighting of we two, himself myself, what fighting had he done. I could not
know yet in his manner there was surety, surety. Yes a dangerous man, I say so.

My companion did not make introductions. Why. It was courtesy. What else would she have done. She had allowed intimacy between them, a familiarity. If a courtesy to myself also the newcomer, we
having no knowledge, one to the other. I knew nothing but that he coveted her, yes, of course, what is to say here there is nothing he coveted her and her body was from mine, removed herself, her
leg from my leg. Yes it is foolish, these things are foolish, as if life, if life is serious, I cannot discover when it is so, perhaps never.

I know it. If I did not say it. Of course. The container of tea was with him and so I reached for it. I held the tea to my lips. But she watched, frowning. I acted not to notice, folding my arms
after drinking. Now I was not so exhausted, not so tired, and withdrew from the covering, my legs up now to be squatting, yes, I could have sprung, power from there, yes. I said to her, Yes, it
would be good for a cigarette now. Also for wine, brandy, if we had something.

Ssh

Ssh

People are sleeping.

Yes, people are sleeping, you say it for myself not to him, when I am speaking, you say it only for myself.

Now she looked to me and I saw in her eyes the sparking, it was in her eyes, sparking. Shining, in darkness but I did see it, a light from some other place reflected there, perhaps her spirit.
Also as a child. She had one photograph in her box, keeping it there, and she showed it to me, this of herself, ten years old. Certainly she was beautiful, I can see her, bright eyes, limbs,
laughing, playful. If I then was thinking of my own family, and thinking of these old days when my own wife had not disappeared I did so also with this woman who now was my companion, had become
so, I thought that she was.

But this newcomer, what he had said, I did not respect it and thought surely she did not, how she could believe it it was falsity, falsity, if she did so believe it. But what he was saying to
her, listening and I heard and was understanding that also it was the analysis of our situation from higher level of command, as he had access, had had access. Yet I did not doubt such was or had
been his access. If she listened. She did listen. I do not say
believed
, listening only, but with greater attention. I know it. International perspectives, international corporations,
co-operations, peacetime wartime co-operations. Concerns of these powers, obligations also, charitable to such as us, duties, yes, to such as, all to such as us, so he said, what is such as us, if
shareholders he said it is security he said you know security, what is security.

He looked to me. I did not answer. What is warfare. I would not answer him, argue, not answer. Did he know I had the weapon, he must have. He said it again to me. What is security. I looked at
her and she said to the newcomer. We are alive, we three.

I said, Yes, we are alive.

You are too loud.

I am too loud.

There are children here.

What

You are too angry, she whispered.

These statements he makes, I am too angry, this rhetoric that is nonsense for whose ears, to whose ears, to ours, to mine, not to mine, to yours perhaps, not to mine, it is falsity. Yes he would
anger myself. Yes.

I saw now he was looking to myself and directly, in no fear, I did not think so, not physically, not as intellectual, in thoughts, arguments, conjectures and beliefs, that we may have had, any
of it none of it, it was of no account to him, neither myself as a man, I was of no account, only I was stupid.

To him anything, I did not care. What he had for me, nothing. But he would be here and think anything was for him. Who was he, what to this woman who was my companion, what was he, and now he
was looking to me and he spoke, quietly, calmly. He addressed my companion as before but now was looking to me also, so not to exclude, not excluding myself.

We cannot effect change, he said, also it is our preference. Our people should not dispel energy, not needlessly, as in discussion of these matters. If decisions are made elsewhere and our
energy is crucial, as it is, your energy our energy my energy, for all of us, we accept this as adult beings, mature beings, we cannot challenge as from no basis it becomes nonsense strategy,
reflection of fools, suited to youthful years.

Listen to him, whispered my companion.

Yes I listen to him but it is his behaviour, I recognise it, and as without respect, yes without respect, certainly it is patronising. Youthful years. What this does mean, if he knows anything,
anything or nothing.

The newcomer looked to my companion, a smile was on his face. She said, He is a colleague, friend also, we have been in situations of complexity, issues of greater importance, superiors and
others, all were present, foreign people, authoritys.

Thus I am to obey this man, obedience to him? No. What is this obligation? He is older man, oh, I must be respectful!

BOOK: Translated Accounts
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