The Silver Arrow by Ian Todd Page B

supervision, during his formative years.  Don’t you think there could be underlying issues, complex issues that aren’t visible on the surface…relationship issues?”
      “Ah’m still no sure whit ye’re getting at.”
      “What I’m getting at is that you’re implying you’re in love with a recidivist, a person who’s probably been feral since childhood, someone that has lived outwith the bounds of what you and I would call civilised society,” he pleaded, looking her straight in the eye.
      “Feral?  Is that no jist another word that describes freedom?”  
      “Oh Senga, for God’s sake!  Whilst most people would have been brought up in a family unit, your…er…so-called friend would have been making up the rules as he went along,” Rory challenged her wae a wave ae his haun towards the backs ae the raincoats huddled oan the other side ae the glass, waiting fur the lights tae change.  “Surely even you must realise that there’s bound to be mental health baggage attached to someone who is quite clearly a sociopath…at the very least?”
      “Is this your attempt at trying tae persuade me tae forget him?”
      “No, I can understand your wish to support a friend in need…particularly if you believe he’s innocent, but to throw away what we have…could have…does seem a bit extreme.”
      “Rory, he’s innocent, believe you me.”
      “Does he also share your feelings?”
      “Pardon?”
      “You heard me. Has he declared his love for you?”
      Silence.
      “Oh Senga, darling…” Rory groaned.
      “Look, Ah don’t like where this conversation is gaun.  Ah’m sorry, bit Ah hiv tae go,” she said suddenly, turning tae pick up her coat fae the chair beside her.
      “No, please, don’t.  Look, you stay here…I’ll go.  I need to get back to work.  I have a clinic at two o’clock,” Rory said miserably, staunin up and looking doon at her.  “Senga, please, I beg you…I love you.”
      “Ah’m sorry, Rory.  Ah never wanted tae hurt ye…please go,” she said, her voice shaking, as she looked oot ae the windae at the huddled crowd, gathering oan the street corner again, waiting fur the lights tae change.
      When she turned roond, he wis gone.  He must’ve turned left efter he’d exited the front door and heided doon Queen Street towards the station taxi rank.
      “Ur ye awright, hen?  Kin Ah get ye anything else?” the waitress asked her, arriving wae pencil and pad in haun.
      “I’m fine…no, sorry…kin Ah hiv a black coffee this time…a mug, please?”
      “Nae problem, hen.  Listen, Ah know it’s none ae ma business, bit don’t you go getting yersel intae a bit ae a tizzy o’er some cretin ae a man.  They’re no worth it, so they’re no…especially wan that bubbles in public and who looks like he’s in dire need ae a psychiatrist.  Mark ma words, ye’re listening tae experience talking here, so ye ur,” the waitress informed her kindly, before turning and trooping back tae the hissing steam machine sitting oan tap ae the coonter.
      Senga took a tissue oot ae her sleeve and dabbed her eyes, trying no tae mess up her mascara.  It hid gone better than she’d expected, even though she hidnae been too sure whit tae expect.  She felt ashamed at being angry at Rory, particularly since it wis her that wis daeing the dirty oan him.  She fully understood his need tae defend his position, bit she’d been taken aback by where he wis coming fae. Did she really know Johnboy Taylor?  Whit kind ae question wis that?  She’d known Johnboy aw her days.  She resented Rory using his knowledge ae psychology tae back-up his argument.  She’d known plenty ae lassies that hid gone oot wae jailbirds, waited fur them until they hid served their sentences and then gone oan tae live happily ever efter.  Of course, people like Johnboy, Tony Gucci and Silent wid’ve been affected, even damaged by the system, bit did that make them warped