Part
7
'So
you're a poet? How fascinating!' squeaked Seraphema.
'Should I have heard of you? I'm reading English Literature
at Edinburgh Uni you know.'
'Well,
what else would you do with literature?' said Sylvester
as he dunked another Jammie Dodger into his glass
of Talisker. He sucked the resultant soggy concoction
with vigour and, indeed, panache. 'Shouldn't you be
doing Scottish Literature as well? Not reading it,
mind - doing it.'
'Em,
well I think there may be an element of it in the
first two years. I'm not that sure to be honest. I'm
mainly here for the experience you know?'
'Ah,'
sighed Sylvester. He offered Seraphema a Tunnocks
Tea Cake, which she refused. 'Do you have a favourite
Scottish town at all?' he asked.
'Well.
I'm not awfully well acquainted with the north as
such. I have heard of Glasgow though.'
Sylvester
rummaged around the pile of papers scattered around
the living room floor and emerged with a scrawled
lament.
'Glasgow
oh Glasgow,
where
all of the bars go
that Leith used to have
but where now all the Yahs go.'
Seraphema
looked puzzled. 'What are Yahs?' she asked.
'The
Yahs, my dear, are the tribe commonly known as the
upper middle class English who have seen fit to colonise
this fine district of ours,' began Sylvester. 'While
they chip away at the environment and heritage they
pollute the air with loud, long vowels in swanky restaurants
and soulless pubs.'
Seraphema
suddenly shivered self-consciously and hurriedly changed
the subject. 'So, erm, what are the rest of the neighbours
like here then?' she chirped.
'Well,'
began Sylvester. 'There's auld Jessie Kelso on the
ground floor. She's a wise old bird in many ways but
there's not many folk around who understand her nowadays.'
'Who
lives in the other ground floor flat?' asked Seraphema.
'I heard some strange noises coming from there.'
'Good
question, ' said Sylvester. 'I have never seen anyone
enter or leave that flat since I moved here ten years
ago.'
'How
rare,' said Seraphema.
'In
1f1,' continued Sylvester, 'live Davie and Eddie.
Now, Davie's a jambo and Eddie's a hibbee.'
'You've
lost me again,' said Seraphema.
Sylvester
clarified: 'David supports Heart of Midlothian - an
Association Football Team, whilst Eddie's allegiance,
like the majority of folks around these parts, is
to Hibernian F.C. Why they choose to live together
is a mystery, as they have partitioned their flat
so they rarely have to come in contact with each other.
I don't know if you've ever seen the episode of Steptoe
and Son where they divide their house to avoid each
other's company, but it's a bit like that.'
The
reference was lost on Seraphema. 'How rare,' she said
again.
'You'll
find there are a lot of rarities around here,' said
Sylvester. 'Take Clint McMurdo for instance…'
'Oh, I've met him,' interrupted Seraphema. 'He seems
a lovely old fellow.'
'Yes,
quite. Anyway, he lives on the first floor too. Jock,
who you've also met, lives below us on the second
floor.'
'Is
he really a boxer?'
'Oh
yes. You can tell he's had a few smashes to the brain.'
'Still,
it was nice of him to rush to my aid like that.'
'Oh,
he's a regular knight in rusty armour.'
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