Looking for more in Scotland's Stories?

COVE-18

Author: Mark Edwards

Please note: this piece contains some strong language

There wis a clunk as the cassette sunk inti the machine. The screen went fuzzy, flickered afore Bunnet’s grizzled features came inti focus: That it on. Ye sure? A’right boys. Hope yis are well. If ye’re watching this, that means I’m deid. So, I’m like a ghostie thenoo, heh heh. I wid’ve donned the white sheet, but Fixie says yis need ti see me in the raw. Fit’s that. Oh, aye. Sorry boys. I’ve bin telt ti speed it up a bit. We’re running a tight schedule here, heh heh. He supped fae a can ae Export, wiped his top lip. So, death, it can come as a bit ae a shock. Mibbe I kain that mair than maist. Poor Elsie, fin she passed. Well, I hae tae admit I made a right erse ae things & the young lad, Robert, if ye’re watchin, I kain we huvna seen eye tae eye virrie often. Mibbe nivir in fact. The truth is, I ay thought ye were a spoilt wee shite. I didna kain ye werna right, I mean, ye werna well & that. The fact is there’s a hist’ry in the femly. Nay on yer Ma’s side. It’s, eh, it’s my side ye get it fae. The clann’s hud a lot ti pit up wi o’er the years tho, I mean – fit? I’m tryn ti say something ti the boy. Okay, right. Okay. See, noo I’ve forgot fit I wis sayn. Oh, aye. Yer ole boy wid jist like ti say it’s a shame ye didna get a better crack ae the whip. Nay abdy gets a good hand in life tho. Some nivir get the whiff ae a face card nivirmind a couple ae aces. I mean, there’s a lot mair worse aff! Well, ye kain fit I’m sayn. Okay, right. Okay. Pay attention Robert. I hope athing works oot fur ye. Jist dae yer best. That’s all I’ll say. I realize I wis nivir the best tae yer poor auld Ma. If I’d kaint then fit I kain. But ach, we can aa say that I suppose. Anyhoo, if ye’re watching this, it means I’ll be seein her soon enuff & make ma apologies in person. At least if the kirk husna been telln us porkies aa these years. He took another sip, cleared his throat. Fit’s that. Oh, aye. Well, the reason I’m speakn is tae tell ma last wishes. Ma wishes fur when I’m deid. If the femly tree’s onything tae go by, I’ll likely last anither twinty or thirty year & by that time it’ll likely be close tae a fiver a pint, so mibbe youse’ll think auld Bunnet wisna such a tight cunt efter aa. Now I’ve hud a word wi Alec, ye aa kain fa I’m on aboot. Oor Alec hus agreed tae gie yis a wee treat ti remember me by. Now I did push fur a free bar a’night. But Alec, in the profundity o’ his generosity, hus advised a happy hour atween 10 & 11 is treat enuff. So, there ye go boys, free drink courtesy ae yer auld mucker Bunnet, the craic hus been good these past few year, well, maist ae the time onywey –

Robert wis up, pacing roun the room.

Is he a’right.

He continued pacing roun and roun.

I nivir thought we’d need this tape so soon. We only made it fir a laugh. Fixie sighed. The huis is a hell ae a mess. Jist as well he wis insured.

Eh.

It’s bought and paid for. Be yours fin ye get oot this place. They’ll let him oot at some point I take it.

Couple ae months, said Charlie.

Fit aboot the funeral?

I’ll speak ti the boss.