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barked, 'Figgy! The gin!'
    A small, emaciated figure, huddling inside a greasy anorak with matted nylon fur round its collar came scurrying over. He must have been in his forties but still had the features of a little boy despite the jaundiced complexion. His ears stuck out from his head and he was wearing a grin which exposed bad teeth and reminded McKirrop of a chimpanzee, anxious to show the pack leader that he was perfectly content to be submissive. He handed a Gordon's gin bottle to McKirrop without changing the grin. 'Go on,' said Bella. 'It's not often one of us becomes a hero.'
    McKirrop needed no second bidding. He took a large gulp of the gin and revelled in the fire in his throat. 'Christ! That's good,' he said.
    'Take another,' said Bella, who had opened the wine and was helping herself. McKirrop took one more gulp and handed the bottle back to Figgy who scurried off with it back to his place.
    'I've been thinking,' said Bella. 'You could sell your story to the newspapers. Lots of people are into devil worship these days. They'll probably pay you a fortune.'
    'Do you think so?' asked McKirrop.
    'I'm surprised they've not been after you already,' said Bella.
    'I signed myself out of hospital,' said McKirrop thoughtfully.
    'Then that's why,' said Bella triumphantly. 'They're probably all looking for you right now.'
    'You could be right,' agreed McKirrop, warming to the idea. 'We could all be on the brandy before the end of the week.'
    'That's right John boy,' said Bella. 'You won't forget your friends will you.' McKirrop saw the look in Bella's eyes and knew that she was wondering about his absence in the last two weeks.
    'I'll believe that when I see it,' muttered Flynn sourly.
    'You shut up,' snapped Bella, and then changing the subject, 'Christ, I'm starving. Who's got money?'
    McKirrop brought out what little change he had from the tenner.
    Bella looked over her shoulder and said, 'Come on you bastards. What have you got?'
    A silent procession brought offerings to Bella. She counted the total and announced, 'Enough for a couple of fish suppers here. Figgy! You go down the chippy and get them. Clark, you go with him. Make sure he doesn't piss off with the geld.'
    Figgy and Clark went off to get the food, leaving the others to pass round the Bulgarian wine. The man sitting beside Flynn refused his turn with a jerky shake of the head when Flynn handed it to him. The others looked at him questioningly.
    'He's going to have one of his fits,' Bella warned.
    Almost at the instant she said it, the man started to tremble all over. At first it was a moderate tremor but it rapidly increased in magnitude until all his limbs were jerking and he lost balance to fall from the wall to the towpath. 'Get something between his teeth!' said McKirrop, searching through his pockets for anything that might do. He couldn't find anything. Bella looked about her without any real sense of urgency. 'Leave him,' she said. 'He'll be fine. He always is.'
    McKirrop tried to get a grip on the man to restrain him but he was thrashing around so much that it was dangerous to get too near. As the fit started to subside he could see a trickle of blood flow down over the man's chin. 'He's bitten through his tongue,' he said. No one said anything.
    'There, there love,' said Bella as the man came round. 'You'll be all right in a minute. She said it with so little concern that she might have read it from the back of a sauce bottle. The man was helped up by two of the others and took his place on the wall again. He spat out blood intermittently.
    'Where are these bastards with the grub?' complained Bella. 'They've had time to go to bloody Glasgow for it.
    'Here they are now,' said McKirrop as he saw a figure appear at the top of the steps.
    'That's not Figgy,' said Bella as the figure started to descend slowly.
    McKirrop could see that she was right. There wasn't much light but the man coming down the steps was alone and he was too tall and erect to be