A bone for the bucket

avoided face-to-face contact with telly presenter Bob Hastings and

fist-to-fist contact with talented toughish painter George McAdams he

could still be alive to tell a tale though not a novel like this, for

while everyone claims to have a novel in him an Everyman like Ken only

has a short story.

Having had his mind numbed by Bob, his face punched and ass kicked by

George, Ken returned from dear old Glasgow town to familiar little Nesty

village like an Everyman going nowhere fast -- or relatively fast, as

the ''Nesty rattler'' was a train that made too many long stops and too

few quick starts.

If Ken had avoided Frank Hill in Nesty village he mught have survived

his public humiliation at Glasgow School of Art. But Nesty was a small

world and, anyway, Ken worked for Frank so had no way of avoiding him

socially, which meant meeting him over drinks in the Feathers, or

professionally, which meant meeting him over meat in the butcher's shop.

As Everyman knows, a meeting can mean being sucked into a

conversational swamp from which there is little chance of escape. If Ken

could have avoided the subject of Bob Hastings and Scotland at Large in

Nesty he might have gone on to better things but he couldn't so he

didn't.

As soon as he got back to Nesty, Ken went to the Feathers for a

quickie and was instantly approached by Frank Hill who -- in a

malt-mellow mood after winning several games of darts -- asked his

swollen-faced employee for an account of his visit to Glasgow. Did he

put Bob Hastings in his place?

''To be honest, Frank, I would have hammered Hastings but a mate of

his gave me this sore face then kicked my ass.''

Frank called for two treble malt whiskies and drank them both.

''You're a clown Ken. A balloon. A midden. A lump of dead meat. A bone

for the bucket.''

Humbled by Frank's mixture of metaphors, Ken felt even more sorry for

himself and started crying. He bought his own treble whisky and his

tears dripped into the glass. He knew he had let Frank down and that

distressed our Everyman more than anything. His bruises would heal but

his brain would hurt until the day he died.

That day dawned on him the morning after the night before with

memories of Bob Hastings and his bruiser buddy and his own former buddy,

Frank. He had lost everything when he lost Frank's respect. He could not

face another night in the Feathers, another day in the butcher's shop.

Around the time Frank was throwing bread to the fat pheasant that came

to his back door for a feed, Ken took a butcher's knife to his own

throat and expertly opened it. He felt a stab of pain then a sense of

peace as he collapsed on his kitchen floor. A patch of yellow linoleum

turned red as Ken died.

In the East End of Glasgow, Pamela Green turned red as George McAdams

demanded yet more sex in his studio. She was exhausted by his enthusiasm

and reminded him he had promised to paint her, so should get out of bed

and get ready.

* Continued next week