PlansIt was as if there was a troupe of trampolinists taking turns to do somersaults on my stomach. After pounding the streets of Glasgow all day I found myself lying on my bed, in the foetal position, listening to some of my mum’s country albums and the battering rain outside. I don’t know which was making me feel worse: the stomach pains, the weather or the pained voices in the music. All those break-ups, affairs, domestic violence and cash-flow problems. I was lying there thinking, b****y hell, why did we have to come to this s**t excuse of a city, with its village mentality? (Rich, I know, coming from a boy from Eastbourne). I didn’t have the energy to get up and turn the music off. I lay there and felt sorry for myself. It was an hour before I was due to be at Rosie’s. I liked being p
