(I must apologise for the language one of the women uses in the Port Brokeferry piece below. I most certainly do not approve. It was not my idea that she should say that - that can happen in fiction sometimes. Please don't judge me by what Evelyn says.)
ALL MEN ARE CUNTS
Christine was like a bear with a sore head. Even when she answered the phone the words she said came out harder than they were meant to. And she was not warm to the ladies that appeared in the shop ten minutes before their appointments, not her usual breezy self at all.
Evelyn thought it had something to do with her not having been in the shop the day before. She understood that Christine had picked up her customers and had put in a full shift. Evelyn took the blame and told Morag she was sorry.
Morag looked at Evelyn funny, like she had not understood.
It was mid-morning when Morag offered to get Christine a cup of tea. The first rush of clients had given way to a moment’s quiet. The appointment book said there’d be another rush about eleven and then they were busy again in the afternoon.
‘Or maybe you’d prefer coffee?’ said Morag, thinking perhaps Christine had spent another drunken night with Lachlan and needed something to restore the pep in her.
‘Tea,’ said Christine, and the word came out snappish and spat.
Evelyn volunteered to help Morag with the tea. Not that there was much to keep two busy, but it gave her a chance to talk quietly with Morag in the back of the shop.
‘Sorry?’ said Morag.
‘For not being in yesterday. For Christine having to take on my clients and being as cross as crabs this morning.’
Morag waved a hand in the air, as if to say there was no need to apologise. ‘It’s not for you she is cross. It’s Lachlan. He was seen drinking alone in ‘The Ship’ last night and no sign of her nibs. They must have had a falling out. Flowers one day, flung words the next.’
Evelyn felt a little better.
‘I think Christine actually enjoyed her spell with the old scissors and comb yesterday. Finished ahead of time we did and she shut the shop up early. Said she’d meet me in the ‘The Ship’ later on for a drink and she was buying. Only she wasn’t there as we’d arranged. And Lachlan was, empty glasses stacked before him and cursing all women till his words came out making no sense at all.’
Evelyn checked that Christine was still at the desk. Then she rolled up the sleeve of her blouse and showed off her ‘Kelso’ tattoo. No words to go with what she did, just revealing the scruffily written name in blue-black, bleeding under her skin so that the letters seemed furry in outline.
It was not a surprise to Morag. Not really. She knew about Kelso, had guessed at least.
‘Fucking stupid, don’t you think?’ said Evelyn.
Morag shrugged, not committing herself to an opinion that might later get her into trouble.
‘He’s with Berlie’s. Now he’s back and he says there’s someone else. Just like that. Says that it meant nothing what we did. And I should have known. He was drunk and so was I. Of course it meant nothing. Except I spent a year convincing myself it did. Bloody waste of time that was. I’ll get it removed. You can do that. Not pretty afterwards, but that’s the price.’
‘Sorry,’ said Morag. ‘We could go for a drink after work, if you like.’
‘All men are cunts,’ Evelyn said. Then she rolled down her sleeve again and fastened the cuff button. She poured out three cups of tea, one after the other, not saying another word till she was done.
‘Yes,’ said Evelyn at last, setting the teapot down on a cork mat that was there for the purpose. ‘A drink, sounds good to me. A few drinks. And who knows, maybe some guy will get lucky tonight,’ and she laughed when she said it, walking back into the shop carrying tea for Christine.
Morag thought she would say something, about men and what Evelyn had said they were, but then she decided to hold her tongue.
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