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Authors: Ian Todd

Dumfries (60 page)

BOOK: Dumfries
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  “Oh, Ah don’t know, Pat,” Paula said doubtfully, biting oan her bottom lip.

  “Why no?  It makes total sense when ye think aboot it.  Ah’ve mentioned oor plans tae Tony and he’s fine wae it.”

  “Ah jist don’t like being beholden tae anywan, especially tae somewan like Tony Gucci,” she replied, grimacing and wringing her hauns.

  “Look, Ah’ve begged, borrowed and stolen tae put everything intae Papa Fraser’s pocket and Ah’ve still goat a fair whack tae go.  Christ, Ah’m even daeing time fur the grippy money-grubbing auld goat, so Ah am.  Every penny will hiv tae be a prisoner fur a while efter Ah get oot.  Christ, Tony kin afford it and it wid only be till Ah get the finances back intae the black, which shouldnae take too long.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning Ah’ll hiv tae go back tae dae a wee bit ae panning fur a while longer, bit nothing too heavy like before.  Naw, Ah reckon Ah kin raise enough wae working oan the jewellery and precious metal side ae things oan ma lonesome.  It means that whitever goodies Ah put Papa’s way, Ah’ll be investing in masel, if that makes sense?”

  “Ah hear whit ye’re saying, Pat.  Ah dae want tae move oot ae Springburn and get away fae the dump and get a place ae oor ain.  They’ve started pulling the buildings doon aw o’er the place.  Helen Taylor wis right.  Ye should see whit’s awready started tae happen.”

  “Look, Tony managed tae get himsel another two flats across in Vinicombe Street and wan in Woodlands Road, jist before we goat huckled.  The wans in Vinicombe Street ur up a good sandstone building.  Ye kin walk intae the toon centre in ten minutes.  He says that they’ve goat two bedrooms and an inside bathroom.  Tony said we could hiv wan fur twelve months, rent free, if it’ll help us oot.  Noo, ye cannae argue wae that, kin ye?”

  “Whit’s the catch? That’s an awful lot ae rent money tae be letting go.”

  “Paula, there’s nae catch.  We’re aw Mankys.  We’re supposed tae help each other oot.”

  “Kin we dae it up wae oor ain colour scheme?”

  “Paula, it’s Tony we’re talking aboot here.  We kin dae whit we like.  So, whit dae ye think?  Will Ah tell him we’ll take him up oan the offer?”

  “Ah suppose so, bit as long as that ma ae mines disnae find oot we’re moving in thegither…at least no until Ah tell her masel.  Ma da will go spare when he finds oot,” she said smiling, the excitement evident in her voice.

  “Well, Ah’m no exactly in a position tae let the cat oot ae the bag, am Ah?” Pat replied, reaching across, studying her rings.

  “Dae ye remember the night ye gied me that wan?” Paula asked, admiring the diamond.  “That wis oor first night…like…ye know?”

  “Aye, well, Ah’ll need tae get ye a new wan.  Ah wisnae that sure if ye really meant whit ye said that night, so Ah palmed ye aff wae that wan, jist in case,” he confessed apologetically, as her face fell and she pulled her haun away fae his, studying the ring.

  “The diamonds ur actually zircons, so they ur,” he said sheepishly, unable tae stoap himsel fae grinning.

 

 

“Silent, that Helen wan his been horrible tae me, so she his,” Aggie whimpered, sounding aw hurt, glancing aboot quickly, before slipping her haun doon intae Helen’s bra and squeezing her right tit.

  “Naw Ah hivnae. She keeps wearing they sexy bra and pants ae mine that ye goat aff ae Kim Sui fur ma eighteenth, so she dis,” Helen pouted, licking her bottom lip and Silent’s startled look turned intae a big grin as he felt the stirring in they loins ae his starting up.

  “Well, Ah’m no wearing yours the day,” Aggie retorted, unbuttoning the tap two buttons ae her blouse, exposing they big boobs ae hers.

 

 

“Look, furget Senga…it’s me ye’ve come tae see, Frances.  Ah’ve missed ye, and Ah swear tae God, when Ah get oot ae here, Ah’ll be gaun straight…see if Ah don’t,” Snappy whispered earnestly o’er the noise ae the chatter, trying tae convince himsel that the shite he wis spouting wis the truth and nothing bit the whole truth.

  “So, how come Ah don’t believe ye then?”

  “Because it’s me that’s talking, that’s why.”

  “Exactly,” Frances retorted, eyebrows lifted, wae her hauns spread apart.

  “Look, Baby-doll, Ah wisnae supping porridge then, or banged up amongst the weirdest collection ae psychos this side ae the Clyde, wis Ah?  Naw, Ah’m telling ye, Ah’m done wae daeing time fae here oan in.”

  “Bit, ye’ve goat yer pals, Tony, Pat, Silent and Johnboy tae help keep yer spirits up, hiven’t ye?  Surely they’re aw looking oot fur ye while ye’re in here?”

  “Frances, Frances, ye obviously don’t get it, dae ye, hen?  It’s them Ah’m bloody-well talking aboot.  Christ, sometimes Ah wonder if Silent is the only sane wan amongst them…apart fae masel, that is.  See that wummin o’er there?” he said, nodding across tae the tea table.

  “Which wan?”

  “The scrawny, hippy-looking wan.”

  “Whit aboot her?”

  “That’s Fanny, the resident pain in the arse social worker, so it is,”

  “Fanny?  That’s no nice.”

  “That’s her real name, believe it or no.”

  “Oh, right.  Whit aboot her?”

  “She’s tagged that Pat wan as being a bloody sociopath, so she his.”

  “Pat?  Oor Pat?”

  “Ah’m telling ye, this sentence his been a right eye-opener, so it his.”

  “Is he awright?” she asked, concerned, looking across at Paula and Pat’s table.

 
“Of course he’s no awright.  He’s a bloody sociopath, fur Christ’s sake.  Kin ye imagine?  Running aboot wae him aw these years and none ae us picked up oan it…especially that Tony wan.”

  “So, like, kin he be cured?” Francis asked, looking across at Paula again, concerned.  “And whit’s Tony saying aboot it?”

  “Tony?  Did you jist say, Tony?  He’s jist as bad, if no worse than the rest ae them.  Think ae a book…any big book, wae o’er a thousand pages in it.  Ye open it up and whit dae ye discover?  Blank pages.  And that’s every page, fae cover tae cover.  That’s oor Atalian pal doon tae a capital T.”

  “Ur ye sure that’s no Silent ye’re oan aboot?” 

  “Frances, ye’ve jist nae idea, hen.  Tony jist sits back like some fucking general, telling nae fucker whit’s gaun oan, playing wae everywan’s heid, bit no being that shy in putting forward his ain points ae view as being the gospel. The others jist go alang wae everything he says.  Ah swear tae God, Baby-doll, it’s jist you and me efter this stint, so it is,” Snappy squealed earnestly.

  “Oh, Snappy, Ah love ye, darling, bit please don’t go making promises that ye’ll only end up breaking,” Frances chided him, reaching across and gieing his hauns a wee supportive squeeze, as a hurt look spread across Snappy’s coupon.  “Let’s wait until ye get oot and take it wan day at a time, eh?”

  “So, ye think Ah’m talking a heap ae shite then?”

  “Naw, whit Ah’m saying is, ma da says that that job’s still in the offing, if ye want it, bit it’ll mean ye hivving tae keep yer nose clean,” she replied, haudin her breath and searching they green eyes ae his.

  “So, whit’s the score wae that slanty-eyed bawbag, Wee Pie then?  Whit’s this Ah’ve been hearing aboot him wandering aboot the toon as if he owns the joint?” Snappy asked, changing the subject.

 

 

  “I better get back and give Fanny a hand with the teas.  It looks as if she’s busy,” the pad announced, as Alison stood up.

  “Oh, is that the social worker?  I spoke tae her oan the phone.  She sounded really nice, so she did,” Senga said, looking doon the hall at the lassie serving the YOs congregating in front ae the tea table.

  “I’ll try and catch you at the end of the visit,” the pad said, as Alison scurried away.

 

  “Right, wan mair time, jist tae show that it wisnae a fluke,” Jimmy Baxter said, as Johnboy began tae play the acoustic lead intro tae ‘Stairway Tae Heaven’ fur the umpteenth time.

  “Taylor?  Is Taylor up there, Matt?” the echoing voice ae some screw shouted fae somewhere, doon in wan ae the halls.

  “Furget them, carry oan, that sounds really good, so it dis,” Jimmy said, nodding, before the vestry door wis flung open.

  “Right, Taylor, get aff yer arse, ye’re wanted!”

  “By who?”

  “How dae Ah know?  Jist put that banjo doon and get yer arse intae gear!” the screw bawled, staunin impatiently at the door, tapping his fit as if he’d been waiting fur a day or two.

  “Ah’ll need tae take ma guitar up tae ma cell.  Ah’m no leaving it lying aboot here,” Johnboy warned him, lifting up the lid ae his case and slowly placing the guitar in it.

  “Baxter, kin dae that fur ye…noo, will ye get a move oan.  Ah’ve no goat aw bloody day.  Ah’ll be back in a minute, Baxter, so don’t move,” the screw shouted tae everywan in the locality, slamming the door shut behind him and Johnboy.

 

 

  “Senga?  Oh, right, er…it’s yersel…then?” Johnboy gasped, failing miserably tae feign nonchalance and looking aboot tae see if he wis imagining where the fuck he wis, as he sat doon, brain in free-fall.

  “Hello, Johnboy, ye’re looking good,” Senga said sweetly, looking up intae they pale blue eyes ae his, before averting her gaze, tae allow him time tae compose himsel.

  Senga felt even mair nervous and confused.  She goat the distinct impression that he wis surprised tae see her.  Surely that couldnae be right?  She’d spoken tae the social worker oan the phone aboot the visiting passes.

“So…er…ye’re looking beautiful…er…Ah mean…lovely…if ye catch ma drift,” he stammered, trying tae keep his voice steady, wondering whit the fuck wis gaun oan and whit he should dae wae they hauns ae his.

  “Ah take it ye received ma letter?”

  “Er, aye…aboot coming doon tae see me?  Aye, that wis a bit ae a surprise, so it wis,” he replied warily, wondering whit wis coming next.

  “Ah spoke tae Angelo last week and he telt me that he wis bringing the lassies doon and how it wid be a good opportunity fur me tae come and speak tae ye in person,” she said, emphasising ‘Angelo,’ a faint wee smile playing at the edge ae her lips.  “Ah jist decided tae take him up oan his offer, seeing as there wis a lift being laid oan.  Ye’re okay wae that, aren’t ye?”

  “Christ, Senga, of course Ah am.  Ah’m delighted,” he lied, feeling the anger welling up inside ae him and wondering how long he wid hiv tae spend in the digger if he strolled across and assaulted another YOs visitor, efter kicking fuck oot ae they useless baws ae his.

  “So, how’s yer ma and da?” he asked, impressed wae the recovery and steadiness in that voice ae his.

  “Fine, fine…Ma his started up a wee sandwich business wae Sharon Campbell, Soiled Sally and some ae the other wummin, daeing the teas fur weddings and funerals.  Seemingly, aw the men folk, including that da ae mine, goat thegither efter Sharon Campbell and Soiled Sally wur released fae Corton Vale wummin’s prison, where they’d been daeing time fur assaulting sheriff officers at a warrant sale, and telt them that enough wis enough.  It’s been quite interesting tae witness a shift in power, so it his,” Senga replied, wae another smile, this time exposing they white teeth ae hers.

“Whit?  It worked…that ma ae yers taking a telling aff fae the men-folk, Ah mean?” Johnboy asked, impressed.

“Well, ye won’t be surprised tae know that it didnae tae start aff wae, bit efter threats ae being tufted oot oan their bare bums and a few mair ae them getting jailed insteid ae fined, they appear tae hiv bitten the bullet, although time will tell.  Ah kin assure ye that there’s never a dull moment up in the Jackson hoosehold oan Keppochhill Road, although they’re actually really busy wae the business, so they ur,” she replied lightly, no sure whether she should jist jump right in and admit she wis wrang no tae believe him, efter he’d sworn oan his mother’s grave that he wis innocent ae shooting they polismen in the bank.

  She glanced intae his eyes again.  He wis studying her, bit trying no tae make it too obvious.  So, nothing hid changed there, she thought tae hersel.  His face looked deathly pale beneath his bleach blond eyebrows and the wee clutch ae freckles scattered across the bridge ae his nose.  She’d read somewhere that because prisoners didnae get oot intae the sunshine or fresh air too much, they ended up wae whit wis called ‘jail pallor’ or words tae that effect.  She wisnae sure if that’s whit he hid, as his complexion hid always been quite fair due tae that red hair ae his.  Fae where she wis sitting, she could see Tony Gucci, looking a picture ae health, wae that dark skin ae his glowing as if he’d been lying sunning himsel up in Springburn Park.

  “So…” the baith ae them said at wance, before laughing.

  “You first,” he said.

  “Naw, ye wur gonnae say something before me…fire away,” she replied politely.

  “So, when’s the wedding then?”

  “Wedding?  Whit wedding wid that be then?”

  “So, ye’re no getting married tae whit’s his name…er…Gory, the auld doctor?”

  “Gory?  Dae ye no mean Rory?”

  “Whitever.”

Silence.

  “Ye’re no pregnant, ur ye?” he suddenly asked, looking fae her face tae her stomach and back tae her face again, a puzzled expression appearing across that coupon ae his.

  “Johnboy, Ah’m no sure whit they’re feeding ye in here, bit fur your information, who Ah allow tae caress that skin ae mine is ma business,” she retorted coldly and as subtly as a right bee-sting fae Muhammad Ali.

  Johnboy winced behind they eye-sockets ae his, feeling the razor-sharp, serrated knife slice through his awready damaged, sunken heart.

  “And, jist so’s we understaun each other, ye hid yer chance and decided that the grass wis greener oan the other side ae Michelle Hope…remember?  Bit, while we’re oan the subject…no, Ah’ve nae plans tae get married and Ah’m no hivving twins.  Fur Christ’s sake, where the hell did that come fae?” she demanded tae know, feeling they cheeks ae hers flush, as Johnboy’s heid fell back as if she’d jist slapped him.

  Silence.

  She instantly felt sorry and embarrassed by her ootburst.  He’d caught her aff-guard.  He wis clearly fishing, which wisnae a good sign.  Even though only a few seconds hid passed, she tried tae remember if she’d detected any malice in his voice at the mention ae Rory.  She looked at him, surprised that he’d managed, withoot too much ae an effort oan his part, tae somehow trigger aff deep-rooted emotions that she thought hid disappeared a long time ago.  She started tae feel hersel getting worked up.  In fact, she couldnae help feeling affronted.  How dare he sit there and hiv the audacity, efter aw this time, and the bloody nerve, tae ask her they kind ae questions?  He clearly still disnae see whit kind ae a shit he wis, efter aw the crap he’d put her through since she wis a wean in primary school.  She fought tae suppress her feelings, tae dampen doon the hurt and anger she felt simmering away deep inside her.  She wondered if somewan like him could ever fully understaun, jist fur wan second, whit it hid been like fur her and Lizzie Mathieson the past few weeks?  She couldnae believe that this wis the same person…the boy…the chancer…that she’d worshipped fur aw they years until she’d wised-up.  Where the hell wis he when she needed reassurance that she wis daeing okay efter spending twelve-hour shifts, day in and day oot, nursing people…wummin, who’d been wheeled in tae casualty by the ambulance load efter being beaten, stabbed, bludgeoned, burned, branded and murdered by people like him and they pals ae his?  Where wis he when she hid tae force they feet ae hers tae take another step forward in the dark oan her lonesome, trying tae get hame tae the flat safely, efter getting aff ae the late night bus efter her shift hid finished?  She took a deep breath tae calm hersel doon, bit still wanted tae scream at him.  How dare he think she wis doon oan some sort ae warped mission tae try and placate his feelings by asking his permission tae get married or tae even hiv a wean.  She continued tae breath in deeply and evenly, no wanting him tae think that he wis getting tae her, through her nostrils tae try and calm hersel doon.  He wis sitting quietly, searching her face, attempting tae penetrate that mind ae hers tae read her thoughts.  Fuck him…‘fuck you, Johnboy Taylor,’ she screamed and cursed inside.  She could feel and sense the tension starting tae surface that hid been simmering, jist under her skin o’er the past few weeks…the past few years…the last nine years since her tenth birthday?  She knew fine well that she wis being irrational, even though in some ways she felt elated that she wis sitting in front ae him, in control ae her life, letting him see whit he’d thrown away, wanting tae hurt him the way he’d hurt her o’er aw they years…bit no this way…no here…she eventually started telling hersel, attempting tae take back control ae her emotions by nonchalantly glancing aboot at the other visitors, engrossed in conversation.  Her brain wis screaming tae her tae staun up and walk oot ae the gym hall.  She felt the sweat break oot oan her brow and wis tempted tae snatch up a paper hanky oot ae her bag and gie it a wee dab, bit she wis too scared tae move.  Fur his part, he jist sat there, immobile, no saying a word, watching her.  She wisnae sure if that face ae his wis displaying hurt or guilt, bit embarrassment wis certainly being reflected fae they pale blue eyes ae his efter her emotional ootpouring.  She hid tae stay calm…it wisnae fair oan him…it wis her that hid goat in contact wae him and no the other way aboot.  She felt the tears well up in her eyes.  Why wis she allowing this person…this jailbird…tae hiv such a hold oan her?  She’d tried tae contact Rory at Newcastle General fae the public phone box in the lobby ae The King’s Arms Hotel
in Lochmaben.  Efter whit Simon hid telt her, she needed tae speak tae somewan who loved and cared fur her, who clearly worshipped the ground she walked oan, who wisnae capable ae hurting her…ever.  Even though Rory hidnae a clue whit hid been gaun oan wae her and Lizzie, she wanted tae hear his voice and tell him that she wis awright and that she loved and missed him and couldnae wait until she wis back in his erms again.  She desperately wanted tae tell him that everything wis gonnae be awright and that the baith ae them hid the rest ae their lives tae be thegither…if that’s whit he wanted.  Wan-bob Broon, The Stalker or whitever bogeymen Lizzie hid imagined, might exist in another world, bit certainly no in her life.  The nightmare hid disappeared jist as quickly as it hid arrived. Rory wid be safe tae return tae her life.  Oan the way doon in the mini-bus, when the lassies hid been hivving a laugh, it hid crossed her mind that she could maybe get a train or a bus through tae Newcastle fae Dumfries, cancelling the second visit oan the Sunday.  Efter aw, she wid’ve goat done whit she came fur, which wis tae tell Johnboy whit she’d found oot and tae acknowledge being wrang tae doubt his word and tae confess that she wis genuinely sorry fur no believing him in the first place.  Aggie and Helen hid soon put paid tae that plan while she wis hinging oan, waiting fur somewan oan the other end ae the hospital line, tae try and connect her tae his digs somewhere in the hospital grounds.  The pair ae them hid arrived oot ae the blue and hid stood jist inside the front door ae the hotel, within earshot, smoking and scheming oan how they wur gonnae get a reaction oot ae Silent tae get him tae actually speak tae them during the visit.  While she’d been waiting tae get connected, Helen hid casually informed her that when Silent goat released, Aggie and her hid decided tae invite him tae stay at their place oan a permanent basis.

  “It’s aboot bloody time somewan took the bull by the horn and made a real effort tae look efter him, so it is,” Aggie hid said accusingly, putting oan her best Joan ae Arc impression.

While she’d been genuinely delighted fur Silent, and annoyed at the inference that, as a nurse, she should’ve been daeing mair fur his care needs, there wis no way she wanted them tae hear her whispering apologies and sweet nothings tae Rory.  She’d prayed fur them tae take their plotting and fags ootside, bit they’d stood their ground in the foyer.  Even though it wis none ae his business, she didnae want her conversation or plans tae seep back tae Johnboy, especially seeing as she wis supposed tae be doon tae visit him.  She’d reluctantly hung up the receiver, praying Rory widnae be alarmed efter coming tae the phone tae find that she wisnae there.  Christ, whit the hell wis she daeing here, she cursed tae hersel wance again.  Why hid she no hung oan the line and telt Rory she wis oan her way.  She knew she should’ve heided back doon tae the flat in Barrington Avenue when she’d goat up that morning, insteid ae getting intae that stupid Transit wae the Springburn crowd.  They’d gied her a hard time when they’d caught her emptying her can ae Special Brew oot ae the windae when they’d stoapped in the middle ae the road works oan the motorway.  It wisnae as if she hid anything in common wae whit wis gaun oan noo.  Why the hell hid Simon no jist nipped roond tae the flat and telt her the good news a few days earlier?  It wid certainly hiv saved her a lot ae angst.  By the time she’d left Carpet Capers, it hid been clear tae her that Simon Epstein appeared tae know a lot mair aboot her than whit she wid’ve classed as being healthy, aboot whit wis gaun oan in her life…where she lived…who she wis gaun oot wae…who’d rented Lizzie and her the flat.  It aw felt kind ae weird.

  “Ah’m sorry, Senga,” Johnboy finally said, breaking the silence.

  “Fur whit?”

  “Ye’re right, Ah shouldnae be prying or asking ye aboot yer personal life.  It’s none ae ma business.  Ah wis bang oot ae order, so Ah wis.”

  That’s right, Johnboy Taylor, ye wur certainly bang oot ae order, she wanted tae scream at him.  Fur years he’d played wae her and Pearl Campbell, keeping them dangling oan a string, thinking they wur jist a pair ae stupid wee puppets wae nae feelings…at least, that’s whit it hid felt like tae her maist ae the time.  Not wance hid he ever seemed tae take oan board how she might’ve been feeling…the lonely nights she’d spent crying hersel tae sleep, wondering if she should’ve accepted the invite fae some nice boy who’d asked her oot, insteid ae convincing hersel that the morra wis another day.  And then when an invite hid finally arrived, oot ae the blue, the basturt hid ended up in bed wae Michelle Hope the night before their first official date.  My God, she couldnae believe how strong the urge wis tae lean across and slap him across the face fur the humiliation she’d suffered in front ae her pals.  Take a deep breath, Senga, ye’ll only jist end up regretting being honest and telling him how ye really feel, she telt hersel.

  “No, Johnboy, don’t say that, it’s me that should be apologising.  Ah shouldnae hiv said whit Ah jist did.  Ah realise ye wur only asking oot ae concern, although the thought ae being pregnant and hivving weans ae ma ain his never entered ma brain…ever,” she scoffed, laughing…and lying.

BOOK: Dumfries
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