Southsiders Read Online Free

angle. “And your Uncle Cliff? How did that go?”
    â€œHe’s not my real uncle and I have no idea what his surname is. Or whereabouts he stays in Belfast.”
    There was silence for a moment which was broken by the snap of chocolate as Archie chewed off the end of a Yorkie bar. “You could mug a granny,” Archie joked.
    Jesse didn’t laugh. It wasn’t such a bad idea. He could probably manage purse snatching or smash and grab. Nobody would be able to blame him for turning to crime. It was just the way it was. He’d spend the afternoon making a plan while the rest of the class did their topic work. If all went well, he’d have his cash flow problem solved in no time at all.

It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue
    â€“–––––––
    T he taxi dropped Ray off at the door with the big number six on it. When he handed over the fare, he noticed that his hands still hadn’t stopped shaking. Worse, the sense that he was empty inside had intensified.
    As the cab pulled away, Ray took in his surroundings. It was a street full of old red-brick terrace which looked like little Lego houses that had been glued together, a string of two-up, two-downs built to house the workers for some factory or other. At the corner of the street, the lights from a tiny shop shone in the darkness. Ray’s eyes fixed on it for a moment. The windows were covered so he couldn’t see in. He thought about filling the empty spaces that kept crying out to him with cigarette smoke. Going in to the shop and picking up some tobacco. A roll-up might do him the world of good. Thing was, this was supposed to be a fresh start of sorts and he hadn’t had a cigarette when he was sober since the night he wet Jesse’s head in The Southie all those years earlier.
    While he weighed the pros and cons of starting again, the door opened and his old friend’s face appeared.
    â€œRay Spalding. Good to see you mate.” Cliff held out his hand and Ray shook it hard. Held onto it like it was a lifeline. “Get yourself in here and tell us how you’re doing. The wife’s dying to meet you.”
    Ray wiped his shoes on the doormat while Cliff took his bag and threw it down into the corner.
    Downstairs, a wall had been knocked through that either created a lounge that had a kitchen at one end or a kitchen with a lounge attached. A huge, flat-screen TV was fixed onto the wall so that it dominated everything even though the sound was switched down. In the corner, under the white lights of the tiniest Christmas tree Ray had ever seen, a woman sat feeding a baby with a bottle.
    â€œIzzy, this is Ray.”
    Izzy offered a thin smile by way of greeting. When Cliff had said she was dying to meet him, he hadn’t realised he probably meant it literally. There were dark rings under her eyes and her cheeks were sunken. Her arms were stick thin and her complexion whiter than the milk her baby was drinking.
    Ray stood in the middle of the room and remembered the state he was in. He pointed up at the bandage around his head. “I’ve had a wee accident. Sorry if it scared the baby, me looking like this.” The baby just carried on sucking noisily as if nothing had happened. He held out his hand and Izzy gave it a shake. Her hands were bony to the touch and Ray didn’t dare to give the usual squeeze in case he broke something.
    â€œWelcome to Belfast,” she said. “This terror here is Rose.”
    Ray lent over, put his finger into Rose’s hand and enjoyed the gentleness of her grasp as her hand closed around it. “Nice to meet you, Rose.”
    â€œCongratulations,” Ray told Izzy. “She’s beautiful. I meant to get flowers at the airport, but...” But he’d forgotten.
    â€œYou must be starving,” Izzy said quickly. It was like she was saving Ray’s blushes instead of leaving him there hanging. Squirming. “There’s tea