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In the end it was the reservists that did what the enemy could not. Out on the moors, raging at one unfortunate corporal Ghost stepped back, stumbled into a rabbit hole, and tore a ligament.
He was air lifted to a specialist hospital just outside Newcastle and that was where Johnny found him, already waiting in reception.
He wasn’t wearing a mask and looked murderous.
‘Holy hell,’ said Johnny upon seeing him. ‘You do not look like a happy bunny.’
Ghost’s eyes narrowed. ‘Save it MacTavish.’
‘Oh MacTavish am I now?’ said Johnny, grinning. ‘That’s not what you told me on the phone.’ He looked over the man, noting the blue surgical boot that wrapped around his left leg. ‘Shouldn’t you have crutches?’
‘Don’t need ‘em,’ muttered Ghost, and stood up, a tiny grunt escaping from his lips. ‘You parked out the back?’
‘Yeah Price gave me the week off. I thought we could stay at my flat. Where are y-‘ he grabbed Ghost who had started to walk off. Well to call it a walk was generous. A hobble was more accurate. ‘Have you got your medication?’
‘Don’t need it,’ grumbled Ghost and shrugged off Johnny’s hand. He slowly, painfully, began to limp towards the door.
A nurse in blue scrubs appeared in the doorway, stopping him short.
‘Mr Riley you left your medication at the nurses station!’ She looked past him at Johnny and her face softened. ‘Hello, are you the husband I’ve been hearing so much about?’
Johnny glanced at Ghost. What had he been telling them?
‘Aye,’ he finally said and held out his hand. ‘You better give those to me.’
The nurse moved aside to let Ghost shuffle past. ‘Real ray of sunshine this one,’ she said, and patted Ghost’s arm like one would pat an unfriendly dog. ‘Take care of yourself, Simon.’
Ghost mumbled something under his breath.
‘Thank you,’ said Johnny to the nurse and then jogged after him. How he’d managed to get so far ahead walking so slowly was anyone’s guess. ‘Ghost!’ he called, making several people in the waiting room look up. ‘This way.’ He caught up with him, and slid an arm around his back. ‘C’mon babe, lean on me.’
Ghost looked at him with an expression of abject disgust.
‘Babe?’ he said, curling a lip, but he conceded to lean on him. ‘Are you fucking serious?’
Together they stumbled haltingly towards the exit.
‘What would you prefer?’ asked Johnny, gently guiding him down the corridor. ‘Honey? My dearest? Insufferable bawbag?’
‘Like it when you call me Captain,’ Ghost muttered, so quietly Johnny almost didn’t hear him.
Johnny turned his face to hide his grin. They finally reached the front entrance of the hospital, crowded with people on oxygen tanks puffing on cigarettes, and headed for his car.
‘Mind your head,’ said Johnny, as he opened the car door.
Ghost hissed as he bent down and maneuvered his long legs into Johnny’s ancient Volkswagen.
‘That’s the lad, in you go,’ called Johnny cheerfully, making Ghost glare at him again.
Ghost moved back the seat as far as it would go but his knees were still pressing up against the dash. He gave up, huffing.
‘I’m never going to live this down,’ he sighed.
‘Aye, brought to your knees by the work of a wee rabbit,’ said Johnny, starting the car. ‘I’ve got your stuff in the back by the way. Are you hungry? Do you want to stop somewhere and get something?’
‘Fuck off,’ said Ghost but there was no bite in it. He sounded exhausted.
‘We’ll stop at McDonalds,’ said Johnny decisively.
‘KFC,’ mumbled Ghost.
‘What was that?’ said Johnny, beeping at someone trying to undertake. ‘Fuck off you bastard!’ He rolled down the window, leaning out. ‘Where d’ya get your licence, you walloper?! Kellog’s cornflakes?!’
‘You know they warned me about boys from Glasgow,’ said Ghost, watching this display opened mouthed.
Huffing Johnny rolled back up the window, glancing at him as he swung into traffic.
‘What, in the SAS handbook? I must have missed that page.’
Finally, he saw Ghost’s mouth twitch. He crossed his arms, struggling not to smile.
‘You’re an idiot,’ said Ghost, bad mood finally cracking, the slightest of smiles playing on his lips.
‘So people tell me,’ replied Johnny. He saw a red and white sign and pulled in to join the queue at the drive thru. ‘What do you want?’
Ghost winced as he adjusted his leg. He pouted, looking thoughtful.
‘Dunno I can’t see the menu.’
‘Hello, welcome to KFC can I take your order?’ piped a cheerful voice from the speaker.
Ghost leaned across him. He smelt like blood and disinfectant.
‘If I order a bucket,’ he asked. ‘How many pieces can I fit in it?’
The chicken lasted all the way to Glasgow. Ghost was gnawing on the final bone when they finally pulled up outside the flat.
‘I don’t know how you’re not dead,’ said Johnny, watching him.
‘It was only a hole in the ground,’ replied Ghost. ‘Wasn’t a mine.’
‘No I mean, after eating all that chicken,’ said Johnny. ‘Right wait here, let me carry the bags up then I’ll come back for you.’
However when he came back down the stairwell he saw Ghost was already slowly climbing the concrete steps, pain flashing across his face with every step.
‘What the fuck are you doing!?’ Johnny cried. ‘You’re no’ meant to be fucking walking on that leg. Come here.’
‘I’m fine,’ said Ghost stubbornly, from between gritted teeth.
‘Do you want to fuck your leg up and never get back to active service?’ said Johnny, blocking the next step, hands on his hips.
This finally made Ghost pause. Taking advantage of the lull in activity Johnny lunged, wrapped both arms around his waist and slung him over his shoulder.
‘Steaming Jesus you’re fucking heavy,’ he hissed. He readjusted his grip and began to climb. He was grunting with effort as he walked the rest of the way up the stairs. Thank God he only lived on the first floor.
‘What do you weigh anyway?’ he said as he set him down in front of the door.
‘Before or after the chicken?’ said Ghost, who looked rather flushed.
‘Go on, get in,’ said Johnny shoving him as he stood there, blinking big round eyes at him like a 6.4” baby deer.
Ghost staggered inside, holding onto the wall, and gratefully sunk down onto the sofa. He let out a long breath, his eyes closing.
‘Go to bed,’ said Johnny watching him. ‘You’re probably still feeling the after effects of the surgery.’
‘Not sleepy,’ murmured Ghost, his head drooping. He was asleep in the next second.
After a bit of coaxing and the promise of tea Johnny managed to lug him into the bedroom. By the time he came back with the tea he was asleep again.
He slept for 20 hours, finally resurfacing from under the duvet just after lunch.
‘Hello, sleeping beauty,’ said Johnny cheerily as he peered around the door. ‘Do you want a sandwich?’
Discomfort flickered across Ghost’s face as he sat up. He got up holding onto the chest of drawers.
‘I’ll make it,’ he said.
‘Ghost, I can manage a sandwich,’ said Johnny, moving to help him.
Ghost grumbled and wrenched his arm away. Johnny lagged after him as he shuffled to the bathroom. He turned, almost banging into Johnny, who was right on his heels.
‘I’m going for a piss, I don’t need help with that.’
‘Sure?’ said Johnny with a lopsided smile.
Ghost slammed the door in his face.
By the time Johnny came back with a cheese sandwich and his medication he was back in bed, the duvet pulled up to his crooked nose.
‘Here,’ said Johnny, setting the plate down. ‘Got your antibiotics and painkillers.’
‘Not taking those.’ Ghost’s voice under the triangle patterned bedsheets was muffled.
‘Ghost,’ said Johnny sharply, using his soldier voice. ‘Don’t be a fanny. Take your fucking medicine.’
‘No,’ said Ghost, sounding sulky. His eyes flicked hopefully to the plate. ‘What’s in the sandwich?’
‘Ghost so help me I will pry your jaws open myself and shove these pills so far down your throat-‘ began Johnny and then felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket. Was it Price? He pulled it out. Mum flashed up on the screen. He frowned. She never called him. ‘Take your fucking pills,’ he finally growled and answered it.
‘Oh John! I’m so glad I caught you. I sent you a message but I don’t think you got it. You’re not on…operations are you.’ Her voice dropped towards the end of the sentence.
Johnny leaned against the door frame.
‘No, no,’ he replied. ‘I’m actually in Glasgow would you believe it. The only operation around here is the one Ghost has just had on his-‘
‘That’ll do!’ barked Ghost from across the room.
Johnny turned, and saw he was sitting up, angrily chewing the sandwich and glowering at him.
‘It’s no’ some great shame to injure yourself you daft cun-‘ began Johnny before remembering he was still on the phone. ‘Sorry mum what was that?’
‘I said it’s a bit of an emergency hen.’
Johnny was instantly alert, stiffening like a bomb sniffing spaniel.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Ah. I had to go down to Plymouth for a conference but all the trains have been cancelled on account of the weather-‘
‘Shit,’ said Johnny, wondering if perhaps he could convince Price to lend him a helicopter. ‘Do you need me to drive down?’
‘No, no, it’s alright hen. They’ve set me up in a hotel for the night. It’s all very nice, but Amy was meant to be coming round tomorrow and I’m not gonna be back in time.’
‘She can come round another day surely?’ said Johnny, baffled. He turned, watching Ghost, and pointed threateningly to the pills.
‘Ah see that’s the problem hen. She’s going on holiday tomorrow and I’m meant to be watching wee John.’
‘The baby?’
‘Aye the baby, hen. They’ve been looking forward to this holiday. So I suppose it’s good timing really, what with you being in Glasgow. Can you take him for her, just for a day or two? I’m sure I’ll be back soon.’
‘I-‘ Johnny frowned. With another look at Ghost he moved into the living room. He guiltily remembered he hadn’t even met his nephew yet. He and Ghost had been on operations almost continuously for the last six months. Still, how hard could looking after a baby be? Here he eyed Ghost, reluctantly shoving a tablet into his mouth and swallowing it dry with a grimace. They weren’t that big. Tablets or babies. ‘Well I suppose.’
‘Oh. Marvellous,’ breathed his mother, sounding deeply relieved. ‘I’ll text Amy and tell her to come round. Oh we were in such a bind. I’ll phone her now. Bye hen, love you.’
‘Love you too,’ replied Johnny and ended the call.
He turned, and jumped. Ghost was standing over him. He frowned.
‘Can I have another sandwich?’ he asked.
The buzzer rang and Johnny leapt to answer it, not wanting to wake up Ghost, who had fallen asleep sometime after breakfast. He’d eaten every egg in the flat. He heard the clomp of Amy’s boots on the stairwell and smiled as he opened the door. She looked much the same as ever, although she’d cut her dark hair shoulder length.
‘Hello John,’ she said, smiling back. ‘Almost forgot what you looked like. Army been keeping you busy?’ She was weighed down with so many bags and contraptions she looked like a pack mule. There was a car seat slung over one of her arms.
Johnny hastened to help her with them as she moved inside.
‘Where’s your man?’ said Amy, looking around.
Johnny glanced at the bedroom door, firmly shut.
‘Sleeping,’ he replied.
‘Wear him out did ya,’ said Amy with a chuckle. She set down the car seat and Johnny realised that that was the baby, sleeping soundly under a blue blanket.
‘Fuck off he’s on sick leave,’ he said. ‘Is that wee John?’
‘Aye here is he,’ said Amy. ‘He should sleep for another hour. Thanks for your present by the way.’
Johnny was baffled. He didn’t recall sending anything. Perhaps his mum had given her something on his behalf.
‘Uh, you’re welcome,’ he said at last. ‘Small ain’t he.’
‘He’s pretty big actually,’ said Amy. ‘He’s on the 99th centile.’
‘Right,’ said Johnny nodding. He had no idea what she was talking about. ‘Do you fancy a brew or summit?’
Amy picked up one of the bags and shoved it into his hands.
‘No thanks hen. Now listen carefully, he’s eating solids now so the jars are in there, but he still has his milk in the morning and evening. The powder and everything is in the green bag. Make sure you mix it with cooled boiled water. Oh and this is the travel cot.’ Amy suddenly dove for a second bag and held it up. ‘It’s pretty simple to set up. I’m sure that great ox you’re married to can do it no problem.’
‘Hey, I can manage setting a bloody cot up,’ Johnny protested. He decided not to remind her he disarmed bombs on a weekly basis. His family worried about him enough.
Amy made a noise that sounded as though she didn’t quite believe him. ‘Here’s the buggy,’ she said, producing a large contraption. ‘It folds out just fine. Oh and the nappies are in here and-‘
Johnny nodded, eyes glazing over.
‘Sounds easy enough,’ he finally said.
Amy checked her phone.
‘I better go,’ she said. ‘We’ve still got to make it to the airport. Thanks so much for doing this. I really appreciate it. I’ll bring you back a souvenir.’
‘No worries,’ said Johnny, seeing her to the door. ‘Have a nice time.’
He slammed the door. In the car seat the baby stirred, whined, and started to cry.
Johnny stared at wee John. He bent down so they were nose to nose.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I’m your uncle John. We’ve got the same name.’
Wee John eyed him and began to cry harder. Johnny undid the straps and gingerly lifted him from the car seat. He was warm and surprisingly heavy. How was one meant to hold a baby anyway? He finally leaned him against his chest and was treated to wailing right in his ear.
‘Uh,’ he began, looking around. ‘What do you want? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Is that the same thing? Amy said you eat food?’
Holding the baby under one arm, Johnny toed open one of the bags. He knelt and pulled out a jar.
‘Do you want chocolate pudding? Hm? I like chocolate pudding.’ He looked at the heaped bags and boxes and turned to the baby. ‘Do you know which of these is the high chair?’
Johnny had sat wee John on the sofa, secured by several cushions and was kneeling in front of him spooning pudding into his mouth when the bedroom door opened. Ghost poked a bleary head out, his hair mussed and standing on end. He squinted at Johnny, and Johnny watched as his hazy eyes slowly widened. He stumbled out into the living room.
‘Johnny,’ he hissed. ‘Is that a baby? Why is there a baby here?’ He moved closer. ‘Is it yours?’
Johnny struggled to keep a straight face. ‘My baby? Oh yeah I’ve been having an affair this whole time, got some bird knocked up all the way in Glasgow while I was in Argentina. My cock has got nothing on the transatlantic pipeline.’
Ghost’s eyes narrowed. ‘Alright, I get it. What am I supposed to think? It looks just like you.’
‘He,’ corrected Johnny. ‘This is wee John, my nephew.’
Ghost leaned in, peering at the baby. His face slowly, surely, broke out into a broad smile. Possibly the biggest he had ever smiled.
‘Hello little man,’ he said, voice the softest Johnny had ever heard. ‘Aren’t you a cracker?’ He tickled wee John’s chin, making him giggle. ‘Yes you are. Yes you are.’
Johnny lowered the spoon, momentarily struck dumb. The baby continued to giggle as Ghost tickled him.
‘Where’s Amy?’ said Ghost. ‘Did she get the present I sent her?’
‘That was you? How the fuck did you even remember?’ said Johnny, finally finding his voice. ‘What did you send her?’
Ghost shrugged. ‘A jellycat and a gift voucher.’
‘A jelly-what?’ said Johnny, staring up at him. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Ghost shrugged again, eyes trained on the baby. ‘You were holed up somewhere with Keegan. I signed your name on the card.’
‘I-‘
‘What are you feeding him?’ said Ghost before Johnny could say anything else. He snatched the jar from Johnny’s hand. ‘What is this shite?’
‘Fuck off,’ said Johnny snatching it back. ‘He likes it.’
‘Don’t swear in front of the baby,’ said Ghost, pouting.
‘You just did!’ protested Johnny.
Wee John looked at both of them with great interest, and blew a spit bubble.
‘Dada,’ he cooed.
‘Is he meant to do that?’ said Johnny, seized with a sudden panic that the baby had suddenly said his first words and he was meant to record them or something.
‘Perfectly normal at this age,’ said Ghost breezily. ‘What is he, eight months now?’
‘I don’t know!’ said Johnny, panic not abating. ‘What difference does it make?’
Ghost leaned in and picked up wee John, cradling him against his bare chest. He kissed the top of his head.
‘Shall we go for a walk,’ he crooned. ‘Get some fresh air?’ He looked out the window. ‘Nice weather outside.’
‘You can’t even walk,’ said Johnny pointedly.
‘I’ll manage,’ said Ghost. He held out wee John at arm’s length. ‘But first I think someone needs a nappy change.’
‘Okay you can do that,’ said Johnny. ‘Seeing as you’re the expert.’
‘How are we supposed to get him outside?’ said Johnny, casting an eye over the assorted paraphernalia his sister had left.
‘Buggy is right here,’ said Ghost, hopping over to it.
Johnny frowned, staring at the folded plastic. ‘What? There’s no seat.’
‘It opens out, you muppet. Fucking hell,’ muttered Ghost. ‘You just-‘ he leaned down, still balancing on one leg like an enormous, English flamingo, and grunted. He straightened up. ‘Well it’s supposed to.’
‘Lemmie see,’ said Johnny, pulling at the folded buggy. ‘Nah. It’s not giving.’ He stared at it, hands on his hips. ‘It can’t be that complicated surely?’
Still on the sofa, wee John giggled at their efforts. Ghost pulled his phone out of his back pocket. ‘I’ll google it,’ he said.
Ghost found a baseball cap Johnny had never seen before, pulling it down low over his forehead. He produced a crutch too, and Johnny was baffled as to where he’d found it, and then remembered he’d been given it years ago when he’d messed up his knee.
‘No mask?’ he said curiously, watching as Ghost strapped the baby in.
‘Don’t want to scare ‘im,’ replied Ghost, squishing the babies’ fat cheeks. ‘There we go sweetpea.’
‘Sweetpea?’ he repeated, incredulous.
‘Fuck off,’ grumbled Ghost. ‘We going or not?’
The walk down the stairs was akin to mountain climbing, Johnny holding the baby on one side, and making Ghost lean on the other. But they managed it.
They followed the road to a park Johnny had previously barely registered. The playground was packed with screaming children.
‘What now?’ he said, staring at the shrieking children.
‘He can go on the baby swing,’ said Ghost, smoothly unbuckling the baby and wading into the crowd. He was serenely pushing wee John a minute later.
Johnny edged around a clump of feral children throwing sticks at each other and joined him.
‘I used to take Alex to the park every single morning,’ said Ghost, gently pushing, the swing squeaking.
‘Do you miss it?’ asked Johnny curiously.
‘Fuck no,’ said Ghost. ‘Every day was the same, like fucking groundhog day. The park, the tv, his mum screaming at me, me screaming back. We were only 17, thought we were fucking grown-ups.’ He shook his head. ‘I was falling in and out of jobs. The heating never worked.’
Johnny looked up at him. ‘I can’t imagine you young,’ he said. ‘I mean struggling with all that,’ he quickly amended.
Ghost shrugged. ‘We made it through. Then just when we got a handle on things Cerys came along and I joined up. I had enough of being a waste of space, I wanted to provide for them.’ He sighed, staring down at the back of wee John’s head. ‘I let them down, leaving their mum like that. I don’t think Cerys ever forgave me.’
Johnny was struck dumb by the sudden admission. He didn’t think Ghost had ever voluntarily told him so much about himself. He thought how strange it was, how much life Ghost had lived before he’d met him. There was so much of it. He wanted to comment something insightful but-
‘D’ya wanna get lunch somewhere?’ was all he could come up with.
Ghost nodded.
They found a table inside a crowded café, and sat, surrounded by all of wee John’s gear. Johnny had to keep moving the buggy so people could squeeze past. He felt horribly awkward. He looked up as a woman leaned over the high chair.
‘What a beautiful baby,’ she said cooing. She looked up and caught his eye. ‘He looks just like you.’
‘Aye he’s my sisters,’ said Johnny
The woman gave him a strange look and scuttled off. Johnny turned to Ghost to see he was silently shaking with laughter.
‘What?!’
‘Nothing,’ said Ghost, looking fondly at him, and then the baby. ‘He does look like you. He’s got those MacTavish baby blues.’ He reached out a hand and tickled wee John’s chin, making him giggle. ‘I wonder what our kid would look like.’
In that moment Johnny was glad he didn’t have the correct anatomy to produce one because he would have happily bent over the table for him. Watching this hardened operator, who had killed people with his bare hands, who had saved his life with violence and viciousness, cradling a baby with such care and gentleness was doing something to his insides. His outsides too. He felt like he’d unlocked some secret facet of the man that he otherwise would never have seen. Ghost glanced up.
‘What?’ he said, confused by Johnny’s expression.
Johnny had no reply. He was confused too.
‘You’re a fantastic uncle,’ he finally said, with a thin smile. ‘I’ll have to buy you a mug.’
‘Am I?’ said Ghost, now wiping wee John’s mouth. ‘Wasn’t much of a dad.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ said Johnny, fiddling with one of the sugar packets.
‘It is,’ said Ghost, dropping his gaze.
Johnny reached out across the table, and took hold of his hand.
‘You know if-if you wanted one maybe we could adopt or something. Or I dunno, use a surrogate.’
Ghost sighed. There was still a tinge of something akin to wistfulness sketched across his battered features.
‘It’s alright Johnny. Who’s gonna look after it? We gonna sling it in a kitbag when we’re out with the taskforce?’
‘I could, maybe,’ said Johnny, already feeling nervous at the thought.
Ghost leaned back in his chair, smiling at the baby clapping his hands.
‘I’ll settle for being an uncle,’ he said, smoothing a hand over the baby’s dark hair. ‘I’m holding you to that mug.’
Johnny swallowed another sip of coffee. There was something still niggling at him.
‘Ghost,’ he began.
‘We should get going,’ said Ghost, glancing out the window. ‘Looks like it might rain. You don’t want to get wet do you, sweetpea?’ This last sentence was aimed at the baby. He stood up, and started to gather their things.
‘Ghost,’ tried Johnny again.
‘Hm?’ Ghost turned, frowning slightly at his expression. ‘You alright?’
‘Are you sure?’ said Johnny agonised. ‘Do you wish you had married someone else? Someone that wants a family? I never wanted kids. Never thought about it. If-if you really want a baby maybe you should leave me and find someone that-‘
Ghost’s frown deepened. ‘Fuck me, Johnny breathe,’ he said, interrupting him. ‘I’m not gonna force you to have a kid with me, bloody hell.’ He ran a hand over his hair before settling his cap on more firmly. ‘I’m 42 years old. I’ve had seven of ‘em. I think most of the woman I knocked up think I should be castrated, not breed more.’ He laughed. ‘Get that daft look off your face you spanner.’
‘Still don’t know how you pulled that off,’ said Johnny as he stood up, but he felt relieved.
Ghost grinned. ‘I’m tall and I have a shit pull out game,’ he said. ‘Anyway.’ Limping slightly he leaned in. ‘You’re all the family I want you stupid cunt.’ He leaned in and kissed him, right in the middle of the crowded cafe.
Johnny clung to him, mouth parting. He could hear the clatter from the coffee machine, and the hum of chattering couples all around them. Ghost patted his cheek as he pulled back.
‘Idiot,’ he said.
‘I love you,’ said Johnny, clinging to his t-shirt, gazing up at him.
‘I love you too, fuck knows why,’ replied Ghost, smirking. He turned to the baby, drooling over toast. ‘Let’s get you back home, aye, sweetpea?’
The rest of the evening passed by in a blur. A brief nap while they tried not to wake the baby. Several more nappy changes. A very confusing 20 minutes while the two of them tried to work out how to make more milk, and then, finally, it was wee John’s bedtime. Ghost tucked him in the cot, leaning over the side and staring at him. Wee John stared up at him, unblinking.
‘I don’t think he’s tired,’ said Johnny, joining him to watch. ‘Maybe he wants to stay up.’
Ghost tsked. ‘He can’t stay up, Johnny. He’s a baby. Tell him a story.’
‘Uh, what?’ Johnny racked his brains. ‘I don’t know any stories.’
‘What about that time in Las Almas when you were bleeding out and you killed all those Shadows?’
‘I can’t tell him that, it’s violent!’ protested Johnny.
‘Alright,’ said Ghost. ‘I’ll tell him a story.’ He briefly looked up. ‘Can you make me some tea?’
‘Yeah sure,’ said Johnny, relieved to leave him to it. He stood in the kitchen, flicking on the kettle, and listened to Ghost’s voice drifting through the small flat.
‘He said I’ll save you a seat, sir, but he never did save me a fucking seat. I was standing up the whole fucking journey, felt like I was on the bloody London underground.’
Johnny clapped a hand over his mouth as he started to giggle.
An hour later, exhausted, the executive decision was made to go to bed. They undressed in the dark, muttering apologies as they bumped into each other.
‘Don’t wake the baby,’ hissed Ghost.
‘I’m not going to wake the baby!’ Johnny hissed back, struggling to find his jogging bottoms in the dim light. He finally turned on his phone light.
‘Turn the light off,’ snapped Ghost, climbing into bed.
‘Fucking hell, what’s next, stop breathing?’ said Johnny, joining him.
They lay back. Johnny felt exhausted. How could one tiny person be so much work? He sighed, feeling his eyes already closing.
They snapped open again as the baby began to cry.
The following day passed by in a blur. Every time Johnny said he was going to go for a shower the baby started crying, or Ghost needed something.
‘Look I’ll do his nappy,’ he said, watching Ghost limping around the kitchen, looking for where they’d misplaced the sudocreme. ‘Just bloody sit down.’ He turned his head to see wee John had started to roll away and grabbed for him. The baby smiled, and then gleefully threw up all over him.
Johnny came out of the bathroom to find Ghost stretched full length on the sofa, bad leg resting on the floor, good leg dangling over the arm. The baby was lying on his chest. They were both fast asleep. Johnny felt his heart rise up into his mouth. He didn’t even know what this feeling was called.
Then his eyes flicked to the tv, where some sort of police chase was going on. He lingered, distracted by someone escaping the police in a car that looked even older than his. The sound of the buzzer made him jump. He dove for it, quickly picking the receiver off the hook.
‘Yeah?’
‘It’s only me, hen.’ It was his mum. ‘I’m here for wee John.’
‘O’ course I’ll let you in.’ He pressed the button and went to the front door, listening to his mum making her way up the stairs.
‘Ah there’s my bonny boy,’ said his mum, upon catching sight of him. ‘Lieutenant MacTavish aye, what an honour.’ She leaned in and kissed his cheek. ‘You’ve got something in your hair.’
‘What, have I?’ said Johnny, clutching at it.
His mum edged into his flat, raising her eyebrows at strewn bottles and baby wipes. She stared at Ghost on the sofa.
‘Oh, well those two are getting on, aren’t they.’
‘Aye they are,’ said Johnny, rubbing at his head and dislodging milky sick.
‘Reminds me of your father,’ continued his mother. ‘He used to sit up with you and watch the late night wrestling.’
Johnny moved to pick up one of the baby bags and began to shovel various items into it. Then with a glance at Ghost, he paused.
‘When’s Amy back?’ he asked.
‘Oh not for a few more days,’ replied his mum.
‘Maybe we could watch the baby for a little longer,’ ventured Johnny, watching her expression. ‘You know, seems a pity to disturb both of them.’
‘Aye you’re right,’ she said. ‘Let them sleep.’ She turned back towards the door and patted his cheek. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, hen.’
Johnny softly closed the door behind her. Behind him, wee John began to wail and Ghost woke up with a snort. Smiling, Johnny turned around.
‘Right then, who would like some chocolate pudding?’
Ghost blinked at him for a moment before raising his hand.