A Beautiful Game.

1.

“That's it. Ah'm pure done wae that basturt.” Kathy slurred through her bleeding mouth. She glanced up at the nurse through an eye so swollen it looked like she was peeking through a ripe plum.

The nurse smiled, a simulacrum of sympathy, she'd heard it all before, probably several times a night after an Auld Firm game. She continued plucking the shards of glass out of the left side of Kathy's face. Each piece was dropped into a silver kidney dish with a little tink noise.

“There are people who can help you know.” the nurse said. Tink.

“The polis dae fuck aw.” Kathy stated, pre-empting the advice. “Last time they didnae even turn up tae the next mornin'. Guess they wur aw too busy arrestin' people for bein' rude oan Facebook.” Tink.

“Well you could try Women's Aid.” The nurse responded. Tink.

“They're nae fuckin' help either. Sexists bitches the lot o' em. Widnae allow me tae take ma two boys tae the shelter, said they didnae allow boys oor the age o' twelve. Kin ye believe that? Like I'm leavin' ma weans wae that mad prick. The bastard hauf murdered ma wee Gerald when he wis nine.”

The nurse just frowned, sighed through her nose and shook her head. It was clear she'd heard that before as well. “D'ye not have any family you could go to?” Tink.

“Ma Ma died last year, there's only me an' ma sister, but she's a smackheid.”

“There. I think that's all of it. You're fortunate, he missed your eye.”

“Aye, thanks hen. I swear, him an' his fitba'. If he loves it so much, let fuckin' Rangers make his fuckin' dinner an' dae his washin' an' take his wee saggy dick. Imagine bein' so fucked in the heid that ye batter yer missus jist cos yer team goat beat. I'm done.”

The nurse walked over to the big plastic yellow bio-hazard container and emptied the kidney tray, then peeled off her blue plastic gloves. “There's a lot of it about Kathy. Do you want me to speak to the police on your behalf? They might be able to... ”

“Ah don't jist want him aff the property. Ah want the cunt tae suffer.” Kathy snapped. She took pleasure in seeing the wide-eyed shock come over the nurse's face.

“Don't do anything daft. You might make it worse.” The nurse responded as she peeled open the covering of a small square of gauze. She walked back over, placed it on the spatter pattern of tiny cuts on Kathy's cheek, then secured it with some plasters. “Right, now let's take a look at your mouth.”

As she finished saying that an alarm sounded. The volume and urgent frequency of which left neither of them in doubt that something serious had just happened.

“Could you wait here a minute Kathy?” The nurse said apologetically and dashed through the curtain of the cubicle.

For a second Kathy could see several members of staff rush towards one of the cubicles opposite. A&E was busy, there were eight or nine people on trolleys, waiting to be seen, all of who were facing the direction the staff had dashed towards.

“Christ, you're a mess.” said a woman's voice. Kathy turned to see, in the cubicle with her, a woman in her mid-thirties. She was wearing a crimson suit, with yellow piping and a black blouse and had an expensive looking brown bob haircut.

“You the social worker then?” Kathy said.

“Something like that. I overheard you speaking to the nurse and thought I might be able to help you.” The woman said. She went into a black purse and plucked out a small card which she handed to Kathy.

“Soror Jael.

Sorceress Venefica; Cartomancy, Haematurgy

Matron Exempta. House Hymenoptera (Malkut)

Black Temple of Niré Yehezatu

Daughter of the Abyss.”

“Sorceress, is that no' like some kind of witch?” Kathy said.

“Indeed.” Soror Jael said.

Kathy laughed. “So whit ye gonny dae, curse the prick?”

“I had something more… visceral in mind.” Jael answered.

“Visceral?” Kathy asked, she recognised the word but had no idea what it meant.

“Permanent.” Jael replied.

“Ah. Aye well I'm aw fur that but he's a big fucker, I dunno whit you could dae.” Kathy said dismissively.

“You'd be surprised, but if you don't want my assistance there are plenty of...” Jael said before Kathy, desperately, cut her off.

“Naw, I didnae say that did ah? Don't be hasty.”

“Well?” Jael asked.

“Whit harm could it dae?” Kathy responded, shrugging.

“Harm is exactly what I intend dearie, are you in?” Jael said.

“Aye, as long as you promise you'll definitely fuck him up.” Kathy answered, some of her earlier ire coming back.

Jael grinned. “Oh, definitely.”

Kathy felt as if the woman was trouble, but it was trouble she needed. If she could put Gerry in his place, get him out of her life, she would be more than happy. “Whit did ye huv in mind?”

The plan, or at least Kathy's part of it was easy. It would take some time to put into place, time that she would have to endure Gerry's bullying, his vicious sarcasm and drinking. She'd put up with it for fifteen years and reckoned another six weeks would be doable. All she had to do was suggest to Gerry that he and his friends have a pre-match party at their house before the next Auld Firm game.

Of course, he approved of that. She could see the smug look on his face, the fucker thought he had her as a pet, No, worse, a willing, compliant slave. Kathy would show him, all she had to do was wait.

And wait she did. He was on his best behaviour the week prior to the match. Bought her shitty flowers from Tesco, took them all out for a meal. He was in a good mood, she smiled, knowing how all that was about to change, as Jael said, permanently.

Come the morning of the match she slipped both of the kids a twenty and told them to go and treat themselves. Gerry was like a fussy housefrau all morning, picking up bits of rubbish, fluffing the cushions, realigning the mirrors and ornaments. Kathy laughed to herself. He never gave a fuck about the state of the house before, but now his arsehole friends were turning up it was like he was waiting for the crew of that old show “Cribs”. He fussed for over an hour and then paced up and down. He was nervous, she realised, the cunt was shitting himself they'd judge him. Kathy could hardly keep her face straight.

They arrived. First off was big Len and Cammy, both of who were friends of Gerry's since school. Len was alright, a lummox of a man, prematurely bald and quiet. He was hen-pecked, so Gerry said. Cammy looked like a junkie, scrawny, with rotten teeth, he always laughed at his own jokes, even when no one else did. She invited them into the living room and then they planted themselves on the sofa and cracked open a couple of cans of Tennants and sat watching the pre-match predictions, arguing with each other but mostly with the T.V.

Ronny came in next. Ronny was a shady bastard by all accounts, looked it too, shifty eyes, a slicked-back hairdo which he no doubt thought made him look like Elvis or one of the guys out of Grease. Even wore the leather jacket. He had a big scar down the right side of his face and neck.

By ten to twelve, another four had arrived and that was that. They crowded the living room, turning the air blue with fag smoke and smutty jokes, interspersed with various accusations of someone or other being a “durty fenian basturt”

The twenty-four cans she'd purchased didn't last long and it was onto the whisky, with Ronny chopping out some lines on a mirror and Cammy rolling up a few joints. It occurred to her that they all got so wasted because, despite their die-hard fan attitude, they all knew, deep down, that football was a load of shite. Why else would they need to get so fucked up?

Just after twelve Jael arrived at the door. Kathy answered it and Jael handed her a bottle of what looked like Bells. She gave Kathy a wink and said “make sure they drink the lot.”

“You no' comin' in?” Kathy asked.

“Later, once they've gone.” Jael said.

Kathy nodded, took the bottle and closed the door. This was it, the witch's brew. She hoped it would work. She had a skip in her step as she took it through. “Boys,” she announced. “Pit that shite away, I've got a treat fur you.”

Gerry looked surprised. “Whit's this?”

“A whisky, I've hid if fur years, it belonged tae ma Grand-da. Wis keepin' it fur a special occasion. ”

“Ho-ho!” Exclaimed Ronny. “Crack it open hen.”

She opened the bottle and poured them all a glass. They drank it, humming and nodding as if they all appreciated a good dram, when none of the daft cunts could tell it from turps.

“That's a quality dram.” Len nodded.

She refilled his glass, then the others who drained their glasses, just in case they missed out. Before long the bottle was finished. Gerry was already slurring his words and being aggressive towards her.

“Away an' get the fid ye bought.” He ordered.

“Gie the lass a brek Ger.” Cammy said.

She knew that would make him even more pissed off. He'd see it as her showing him up in front of his pals and true enough when she went through into the kitchen, he rammed a knuckle into her kidneys with enough force that she suspected there would be blood in her piss later on. She bit her lip and got the tray of sausage rolls and pies out the oven.

By two o'clock they were ready to set off. She was disappointed that the witch's potion hadn't kicked in but Jael had told her it would take a few hours to work its magic. They bundled into a couple of cabs and they were off.

2.

There was a tension in the air. The match was not going to be a pleasant one, the faces of the collected fans said as much. They were not out for a jolly Saturday of sport, there were different scores to settle, old chips placed on the shoulders of idiots, generation after generation. There were no real stakes at play, other than the bruised pride of the drunken consumers who had affixed all sorts of irrelevant historical nonsense to what was, essentially, twenty-two overpaid young men from across the globe, chasing a ball around a field. It meant nothing, each one of those young men could if the price had been right, played for either team. It was not them the fans supported, it was a brand and a costume. Deep down most of them knew it, most of them understood that all their sectarian sing songs and angry berating of the other side was hollow. They just couldn't face it, which was probably why so many of them got so drunk prior to watching the performance. It was hollow, just as they were, and they were terrified to admit it, having invested so much time and money into it.

There had already been scuffles outside the turnstiles. The police weren't having it and some drunks were already going to miss out on the all-important nothing. By the time Gerry and the boys arrived the crowd was all slowly entering the stadium. Die-hard supporters, the type who constantly bitched about their teams needing more money, were rushing the entrances singing their silly little songs and attempting to smuggle in their mates and booze for free, unaware of their hypocrisy.

Gerry and the lads didn't give a shit about any of it. They were already blootered and were looking forward to ninety-odd minutes of shouting and cheering. As they got through the turnstiles they joined in with the rest of the weekend warriors in a camp little song bragging they'd be up to their knees in Fenian blood, with a heavy emphasis on Fenian. It would have been pitiful was it not so dangerous. They went up the stairs and out into the stadium which was three-quarters filled with grown men playing dress up, waving little flags and scarves and trying to bait the away supporters, fenced in like angry cattle.

Gerry and his friends took their seats, bouncing banter at each other, telling more bawdy jokes and anticipating the game with some excitement. Cammy sat next to Gerry and screwed his eyes up. “You done somethin' with yer hair?”

Gerry looked horrified. “Whit?”

“Yer hair, man, you hid it cut or somethin', it suits ye.” Cammy answered.

Len interjected with a laugh. “Why don't ye shag him.”

“Fuck aff.” Cammy said but it was too late, he was already being ridiculed by the others.

The noise from the stadium faded for a few seconds as the referee and linesmen walked onto the pitch. They were quickly followed by two lines of players from each team, which lead to a huge roar from all across the stadium. It was time.

As the kick off started, Jael's potion kicked in. Gerry who'd been dying for a piss for the last half hour finally took the opportunity to take a leak, thinking the toilets would be empty. “Be back in a minute.”

He climbed out of his seat, wading past the others until he made it to the stairs. He moved down them and the others, silently looked at each other and nodded, then without words, they all got up and followed.

And they're off…

Gerry's at the urinal, shaking the last drops of piss from his dick as Cammy and Ronny come barging in and charge up behind him. Cammy grabs his arms as Ronny punches him in the stomach until Gerry folds like a cheap birthday card. And there's Big Len pushing in, getting Gerry's trousers down as the young man struggles to get away, but it's no use. With one movement Big Len is holding his mouth open and Gerry gets a taste of Cammy's dirty tackle and goes down. Foul!

Above the crowd go wild.

Ronny's already in the box, pushing right up but Gerry's not done yet, still gagging, he twists, and Ronny fails to complete. Big Len moves into position but Gerry takes advantage and gets past the three of them. Can he make it? No… he runs right into the defence, blocking the toilet door. One of them goes in with the head, Gerry stumbles and is back in their possession. The lads are taking no chances this time, a quick one-two there, straight into Gerry's face and the fight goes out of the lad. Ronny and Cammy on either side of him now, grabbing his arms, he's got nowhere to go. Big Len comes up behind him, he's right in the area now, there's no one to stop him. With a thrust it slides right in, It's there! It's there!

The fans above roar as Big Len shoots and scores but the lads aren't done yet. Gerry doesn't even have time to recover before the next one goes in, he's left himself wide open and the whole thing is so one-sided that it's humiliating to watch. The lads seem to be enjoying themselves, though, even if Gerry is getting a right pumping from every angle, and of course, it's a game of two halves. They've run that boy ragged here today. It will be a miracle if he recovers from this one.

Bleeding, dazed and in shock, Gerry tried once more to flee from his rapist friends. He had no idea what had gotten into them, didn't care, he just wanted to be away, to be out of there, to be home but they were not finished with him. They dragged him into one of the cubicles where they smashed his face off the toilet bowl until his teeth shattered and scattered like fragments of bloody pearls all over the piss puddled floor. Big Len then forced his mouth open around the soaking yellowed rim and Ronny booted him so hard in the back of the head that his jaw completely dislocated and the sides of his mouth were torn open. After that, they left him there, zipped up, went back upstairs to enjoy the rest of the game.

It took Gerry several minutes to recover his senses. Drunk, bewildered and in agony he stumbled to his feet, using the cubicle walls to support him. He staggered out past horrified onlookers, some of whom offered help but he did not wish it. He pushed them out of the way angrily and continued out, past the now empty turnstile and out of the park into the lifeless car-park. Upon the stairs at Copland Road, two tiny Asian children who were doing somersaults around the handrail screamed and ran. He kept walking, heading south. As he passed the subway some commuters looked at him in shock and fled back into the building. He turned right onto Fairley Street, which was empty along its small stretch. At the end, he took a left, and walked down Whitefield Road, past the cheap cars and litter until he made it onto Govan Road. He thought about getting a bus from there to the hospital, but it didn't stop, the wide-eyed driver just sped past him. Gerry kept going south until he reached the bank of the Clyde. The dark grey river reflected the dark grey sky above. It took him only a moment to dive into its hungry, dismal waters.

3.

Back at home Kathy and Jael were sharing a bottle of wine when Jael closed her eyes and said “It's done.”

There was a vindictive pride on Kathy's face, they'd taught him a lesson he'd never forget. She chuckled “I canny wait tae see his fuckin' face.”

“I expect you will, soon enough.” Jael said. “You'll need to identify the body.”

“Whit?” Kathy said surprised. “Whit d'ye mean, body?”

Jael rolled her eyes. “You didn't think this had a happy ending for him did you?”

“Naw but… are you sayin' Gerry's deid?”

“Well obviously.”

“B-But…” Kathy stammered. “Who's gonny take care o' me an' the weans?”

Jael sighed, placed the glass down on the table, stood up and said. “Not my concern, dearie. My job is done, what you do from now on is up to you. Thanks for the wine. I need to go before the boys in blue arrive.”

“Haud oan. You're no gaun anywhere.” Kathy said angrily, getting to her feet, lifting the wine bottle by its neck.

“I would not advise continuing with the course of action you are considering Kathy.” Jael threatened. “Do you think I would have any qualms leaving your children orphans?”

Kathy stopped in her tracks screwed up her eyes and said “Get the fuck oot of my hoose ya cunt.”

Jael smiled. “I was just going.”

She picked up her bag and headed out the door. At the front door, she turned and said “Farewell Kathy, you shall receive your bill in due course.”

“Ah canny believe ah fuckin' trustit you ya fuckin' witch. You're just a fuckin' evil bastard.”

“Indeed.” Jael said opening the door. “But we're all you've got. Goodbye.”

She closed the door behind her.