Home Alone by John Gerard Fagan

Wee Agnes squeezed into an empty seat near the front and her glasses steamed up. The stale scent of the bus and the radiator beneath her feet made her dizzy again. Maybe it was time she got her messages delivered instead of traipsing all the way up to Cumbernauld for two tins of pea soup and a packet of broken digestive biscuits.

“Here, dae ye mind oan that aeroplane when the maw wis lit that – Kevin!?”

Agnes blinked. A skinny man with a toothy smile was standing over her. “Sorry?”

“Dae ye mind that ir no?” He stared, scratching an angry dusting of acne that was bubbling across his pale narrow cheeks.

Agnes pulled off her glasses and wiped the lenses with her thumbs. “Sorry, son ir ye speakin tae me? A don’t hink a know ye.”

“Aye. A wis jist talkin aboot a film a saw pure ages ago, but it wis a pure belter. Mibby you’ve no seen it.”

“Am sorry a huvnae.”

“Whit films dae ye like then?”

She tightened her grip on her bag. “A don’t watch the telly much, son. Ma Gerry used tae like them cowboy films.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Cowboys? Ye like shootin wans then? A wish a hud a gun – a wid be pure good at shootin folk. A wid shoot the driver and that wee guy up the back – but don’t worry, a widnae shoot you.”

He swung in beside her and stared out of the greasy window over her shoulder. The stench of piss radiated from his pores and sunbathed in her nose. He wrapped an arm around her and tapped her shoulder bone with a tobacco stained finger. Agnes froze as his head leaned in closer. He whispered into her ear with a wet mouth.

“Kin a tell ye a secret?”

“Naw it’s okay. A don’t need tae be hearin yir secrets, son.”

He placed a finger over her lips. “Don’t tell embdy, but ave put a body in an auld freezer a found up in the woods near the gypsies.” He pulled the finger away and clapped in a fit of giggles. “A dunno the guy, so a wisnae sure whit tae dae wae it. Here, dae ye fancy seein it? A checked on it this mornin and it has went pure grey and looks like a pure mad zombie by the way.”

“Is this fae a film?”

The man screwed up his face. “A film? Naw naw. Whit sorta fucked up film wid that be? A widnae watch anythin like that. A like films ye kin huv a pure mad laugh tae. No whit a mean? Like that wan wae the wee fella called Kevin. His maw leaves him in the hoose himsel, but he has some laugh by the way. He pure batters the robbers.”

Agnes stared ahead, wishing he would disappear. She gripped her walking stick until her knuckles turned white. Felt sweat dripping from her armpits. The man went silent and seemed to have fallen asleep.

As the bus finally pulled into Moodiesburn, she sighed and squirmed out from under his arm.

“Sorry, son but this is ma stop.”

“Oh aye? Well, it wis nice tae meet ye, hen.”

The man leapt to his feet and smiled. Agnes forced out one in return and hurried off. She was around ten steps from her house when she noticed that he was creeping up behind a fence. The pain in her left hip told her there would be no outrunning him, but when she reached her gate he was nowhere to be seen. She hurried inside and locked the door. Never again. Her messages were getting delivered from now on.

Agnes made herself a nice wee cup of tea and picked a digestive biscuit to go with it. Decided she would watch one of them old cowboy films Gerry used to fall asleep to, then some pea soup with the last of the loaf when it finished.

“Jesus!” Agnes dropped her tea and it smashed on the floor, splashing her legs. The man was sitting in Gerry’s old armchair in the living room, dressed only in yellow stained pants.

“Careful there, hen. Ye could burn yirsel.”

“Whit ir ye dain in ma hoose? Get oot!”

“Ye left yir bathroom windy open so a thought ye wir lookin fir company.”

“Well, am no so get oot.”

The man leapt over to the couch and squatted. “Here, dae ye mind when the robbers got hit wae a tin ae paint right on the coupon? That wis some laugh so it wis. Ma maw used tae always put that film oan fir me when she went aff tae work at night. Ave got it awe memorised. The bit wae the pizza guy always gets me an awe. Keep the change, ya filthy animal! Eh? Keep the fuckin change. Some laugh so it is, by the way. Dae ye fancy watchin it wae me? Ave got the video at ma bit. We could go over or a could bring it back here.”

Agnes walked over beside the phone. “Ye cannae jist come intae people’s hooses.”

“Is that an aye aboot watchin the film then? We’ll huv tae get the bus soon if wir goin tae ma bit cos a don’t live near here. This is pure country livin oot here. Sheep and horses awe aboot is pure mad. Am more ae a city boy, ye know?”

“Please jist leave.”

“Only if ye come wae me tae see whit’s in ma bath. A thought it wid be a good place, but the flies ir geein me the boke and her face has went like wet paper.”

“Am callin the polis is whit am dain.” Agnes lifted the phone from the wall and dialled 999 with trembling fingers. “Jist leave, son. A don’t know whit game yir playin but it’s no funny. A don’t need this sort ae hassle at ma age. Please jist leave.”

“Leave in jist ma pants? It’s pure freezin oot there. Ir ye aff yir nut?” The man ran away into her bedroom, laughing.

“Hello, a need help. Thir’s a strange man in ma hoose. He followed me aff the bus and broke in and… and he’s—”

“Okay, okay. Calm doon, hen. Big deep breaths, big deep breaths. Al send somebody over. Whit’s yir address?” said the operator. Agnes felt a knife at her throat and dropped the phone. The man picked it up and winked.

“Sorry, officer. Ma auld granny has that hing where she cannae remember folk. Everythin is awe right noo, but.”

“Och nae bother. A ken whit ye mean. She’s a poor wee soul. Yir a good boy fir lookin efter her.”

“Deserves only the best! Al take good care ae her.” He hung up and smiled. “A cheese pizza awe tae masel! A hink al chop ye up intae a pizza toppin and store ye in yir fridge after am done. Awe tae masel.”

The End