Parly Road: The Glasgow Chronicles 1 (30 page)

  “Ah’ve a message fur ye fae a PC Cross. He says he’s up at The Royal. There’s been an emergency.”

  “Eh? Oh, right...how long ago?”

  “Aboot hauf an hour.”

  “Oh, right, thanks...Peggy,” he said, jist as her fingers started tae go like the clappers again.

  By the time he reached The Royal, everything looked relatively calm enough oan the ootside.  Wance inside, there wur the usual drunks hinging aboot, pishing themsels where they sat. He clocked a few faces that he thought he knew, who wur sitting wae blood-soaked towels wrapped roond their heids, while some auld bird wis staunin up oan wan ae the chairs, pished as a fart and singing some stripper song while peeling aff her kecks, exposing paps that wur at least three feet long.

  There wis a big commotion coming fae wan ae the cubicles alang the corridor tae his left and he heided in that direction, clocking hospital uniforms flying in and oot. It looked as if there hid been a multiple car accident or a train crash disaster hid taken place somewhere, judging by the amount ae nurses and spotty-faced doctors that wur running aboot. A blood curdling wail hid jist went aff as The Sarge popped his heid through the curtain.

  “Crisscross, they wee thieving basturts hiv stolen aw ma money fur the needy weans oot in Africa. Whit am Ah gonnae dae noo?” Sally wailed, lying oan tap ae the bed in her Sally Army uniform, sounding and looking like a distressed, beached sperm whale.

  “There, there, Sally. Don’t ye worry, darling. We’ll soon get it back, hen,” Crisscross wis saying, face as white as a ghost and looking distressed, sitting oan a chair and haudin her by the haun.

  Another wan ae the Sally Army wummin wis oan the opposite side ae the bed, dabbing Sally’s foreheid wae whit looked like a damp nappy.  Crisscross clocked The Sarge and jumped up and went through the curtain intae the corridor, jist as another nurse arrived wae a bowl ae water and mair nappies.

  “They dirty, manky wee basturts hiv tanned ma hoose and stolen aw the money that Sally and the girls hiv been collecting fur aw the poor snappers oot in Africa,” Crisscross wailed, adding tae the racket.

  “Crisscross, slow doon and tell me whit’s happened, son.”

  “Sally and the girls arrived hame aboot eleven o’clock, efter being oot collecting roond the pubs. They knew something wisnae right as soon as they walked in the front door because aw the doors wur open in the lobby and they could see the street lights shining in fae the front ae the hoose.”

  “How did the basturts get in?”

  “Through the kitchen windae.”

  “Did they get aff wae much?”

  “The lassies empty their cans intae a suitcase that we keep under oor bed.  It wis sitting oan tap ae the mattress, opened and empty. Sally and the lassies think there must’ve been aboot fifteen tae twenty quid, aw in coinage, in it.”

  “Fur Christ’s sake, Crisscross!  Whit kind ae money is that tae be keeping in the hoose?”

  “Aye, Ah know…Ah keep telling her, bit she says there’s naewhere else. She disnae trust the banks. The money gets picked up every month and this is them coming tae the end ae their third week.”

  “Is she awright? She sounds as if she’s in pain.”

  “Ah don’t think she’ll ever get o’er this wan, Liam,” Crisscross mumbled, looking devastated.

  “Aye, it must be horrible hivving yer hoose invaded.”

  “Aye, there’s that as well, bit she thinks this might fuck her up fur winning the ‘Feed The Hungry Africans Weans’ award fur the second year in a row. She’s heard a wee rumour that her and the lassies ur strong contenders again this year. Life won’t be worth living if she’s pipped at the post by that ugly crowd across in Maryhill.  If that happens, Ah don’t think she’ll recover fae this wan in a hurry.”

  “Whit’s the doctors saying then?”

  “They say she’s shocked and distressed and want tae keep her in fur observation, bit she says she wants tae get back hame and intae her ain bed.”

  “Whit’s happening back at the ranch?”

  “A couple ae the Christian warriors, Anita and Morna, ur there, tidying the place up. Forensics hiv been and they’ve aw gied statements, apart fae Sally. When she went intae the bedroom and saw the case opened, wae nae coins in it, she fainted. Anita telt me that it took two ambulance men and two pavement pounders tae lift her oot tae the ambulance oan a stretcher.”

  “Who wis that?”

  “Jack and Tommy.”

  “Ur they still there?”

  “Naw, bit they’ve sent fur a joiner.”

  “Okay, Crisscross. Let’s see if we kin get Sally hame.”

  “Ah’m telling ye, Liam. Ah don’t mind admitting it, bit Ah wis shite feart, so Ah wis. Ah thought Ah’d lost Sally when Ah arrived here, jist as they wur wheeling her in. Ah want they wee basturts strung up by the baws.”

  “Don’t ye worry aboot a thing, Crisscross.  This is fucking war. Noo, come oan, son, let’s get Sally hame,” The Sarge said, lifting back the curtain tae the sounds ae Judy Garland howling alang in the reception seating area.

  “C’moan, Sally, hen, let’s get ye hame tae yer ain bed and a nice wee cup ae Horlicks,” Crisscross cooed.

Chapter Thirty Five

  “In ye come and keep the noise doon. Nip under the bed and Ah’ll be through in a wee while,” Joe whispered.

  He closed o’er the front door as Skull crept quietly alang the lobby tae Joe’s bedroom, wae the pillowcase haudin the coins in it slung o’er his shoulder. Five minutes later, Joe reappeared wae a couple ae pieces wae dollops ae salad cream oan them.

  “Here ye go.”

  “Lovely.”

  “Right, the auld wans are in their kip, bit we’ll need tae be quiet, especially if we’re coonting the dosh.”

  “Get some socks fur the coins.”

  “How much did Tony say we’ve goat tae get fur the morra?”

  “He said tae try and get five pounds and ten bob.”

  “Right, we’ll start wae ha’pennies. There’s twenty-four ha’pennies tae the bob, so we’ll need twenty piles tae make up a pound. Let’s go,” Joe said, as he opened the neck ae the pillowcase and the two ae them started putting thegither piles ae ha’pennies oan tae the cover ae a nineteen sixty wan Beano Annual.

  Wance they ran oot ae ha’pennies, they started oan pennies, twelve tae a pile and then the thrupenny bits came next.

  “Right, that’s five pound, ten bob. Dae we carry oan coonting?” Skull asked, looking at the socks wae their necks tied in a knot oan each end.

  “Naw, fuck it, we kin coont the rest ae it the morra when we meet up wae Tony and Johnboy. Nip under the blanket and nae farting noo. Ah’ll go and switch aff the light.”

  “Aye, okay,” Skull said, that arse ae his letting oot a wee pip-squeak that made them baith burst intae giggles.

  “So, whit’s the score wae that auld man ae yours, no letting ye in at night then?”

  “Who knows. Ah think he thinks the Murphy’s are coming back or something. Ma ma keeps telling him that it’s aw o’er wae and they won’t be back, bit he wullnae listen.”

  “So, why dis she no jist gie ye yer ain key?”

  “We don’t hiv a key fur the door. It only locks fae the inside. He threw the key oan tae the fire when Ah wis young. Wan time when Ah knocked oan the door tae get in, ma ma goat up and he attacked her, thinking she’d joined their gang. Noo, she jist disnae bother getting up wance her and Betty ur in their beds…too dangerous.”

  “When we get the key ae the dookit the morra, ye’ll hiv yer ain key then, so it wullnae be a problem. Ye kin jist kip in the cabin whenever ye cannae get in.”

  “Aye, it’ll be bloody brilliant, so it will. Jist me and ma doos. Wance we’ve goat it stocked up, Ah’ll try and get ma da tae come roond fur a wee look. He hisnae left the hoose since he goat oot ae the hospital jist efter Ah wis born. Ma says the doctor said he should try and get a hobby, insteid ae sitting there getting pished every day.”

  “Well, he’s sort ae goat a hobby.”

  “How dae ye mean?”

  “Getting pished aw the time, in the same place, in the same chair wae the same bottle ae juice everyday.  The Toonheid is full ae people like that.”

  “Aye, Ah never thought ae that. Ah’ll need tae remind Ma tae tell that doctor that when he turns up fur his yearly visit. He’ll be fair chuffed that ma da’s daeing whit he suggested efter aw.”

  Wance their laughter died doon, they didnae speak fur aboot five minutes. Jist as Joe wis falling aff tae sleep, Skull broke the silence.

  “Dis yer ma and da ever gie ye a wee cuddle, Joe?” he whispered in the dark.

  “Ah think ma granny used tae before she croaked it, although Ah’m no sure, as she died years ago, so Ah’m maybe jist imagining it. Why, dis yours?”

  “Naw.”

Chapter Thirty Six

  “Bit, Ma, Ah need tae meet ma pals. It’s urgent!” Johnboy wailed.

  “And Ah need ye tae take yer da’s shoes up tae the pawn because we’re skint.”

  “Ah’ll dae it later.”

  “Johnboy, ye’ll dae it the noo and stoap yer whining, ya cheeky wee shite, ye.”

  “Ah hate you!”

  “Aye, so dae Ah.  Noo, get they shoes lifted up aff ae that chair and hurry up, before Ah start tae get annoyed. And don’t touch the toes oan them wae they fingers ae yours. Ah don’t want them aw full ae smudges. Hurry up!”

  “How much?”

  “The same as last week. Three bob.”

  “Fat Fingered said tae me last week that they’re getting auld.”

  “Tell him they hivnae been worn since last week because they’ve been sitting oan his shelf and Ah need three bob.”

  “You tell him.”

  “Ur you still here?  And remember,get straight back here wae ma money.  Ah need tae get some messages in fur oor tea.”

  The pawn wis up the close oan the corner ae McAslin Street and Stanhope Street, jist alang fae The McAslin Bar. Johnboy hid been taking his da’s shoes there nearly every week fur as long as he could remember. He must’ve been aboot five the first time as he remembered it wis oan the first day he started school. His ma took him up there before drapping him aff at school, so that he’d know where tae go and whit tae dae when he went up oan his lonesome. He’d bubbled tae her that he wanted tae go tae school wae aw his pals, bit she’d telt him tae stoap whinging and that he’d be able tae go tae school wae his pals the next day and fur the rest ae his life. Even though she’d gied him a penny gobstopper that lasted him the whole day, he’d hated walking intae his new class aw by himsel, hauf an hour efter everywan else hid arrived and grabbed aw the good seats in the classroom.  That wis how he’d ended up sitting beside Senga Jackson. It hid taken him a year tae get used tae the shame, even though she’d seemed happy enough wae the arrangement.

  At the pawn shoap, customers went in the closemooth and then through a door that looked like every other door up the close.  Wance ye goat inside, there wis a waiting room, always full ae aulder people than him, that hid a bench oan wan side and a row ae doors intae wee cubicles facing ye oan the other. The doors must’ve hid super hinges oan them because they wur furever being yanked open before automatically slamming themsels shut wance whoever entered hid haunded o’er their gear, collected their dosh and the next punter hurriedly nipped in tae take their place. Johnboy always played a game ae predicting which door wid open next. His all-time record ae getting it spot-oan hid been fourteen oan the trot. Despite lying basturts claiming tae hiv beaten his score, nowan he knew hid ever produced any eye-witnesses. Johnboy hid auld Bitching Betty
and Shitey Sadie, who worked part-time in the bag-wash across the road oan a Thursday and Friday, tae back him up.

  “In the name ae Holy Wullie, ye must be blessed tae hiv worked that wan oot Johnboy,” Sadie hid exclaimed in wonder at the time, fair impressed wae they special skills ae his, bit it hidnae taken long fur his bubble tae get well and truly burst.

  “And him a wee red-heided Proddy tae.  Who wid’ve thought in this day and age, eh?  Personally, Ah blame that mother ae his masel,” Betty hid hurumphed, grappling fur that roasary wrapped roond her neck before the Devil dressed up as a wee manky toe-rag managed tae get his clutches oan her.

  Bitching Betty hid been a nun way back in the aulden days.  She’d telt everywan that she’d hid tae leave the convent in whit she’d stood in, which in her case, wis a black habit, because a big filthy hairy priest hid tried tae perch oan her.  Johnboy’s ma hid telt him that her story wis a heap ae shite.  Betty hid lead the charge ae a group ae nuns who’d stormed the alter wine store in the convent and because she wis the ringleader, hid been expelled.

  “Everwan in the Toonheid knows the truth fine well, bit they’re jist being polite tae her because they don’t want tae hurt her feelings.  She wis a drunken bitch back then and his been bitching at the world and everywan in it ever since,” his ma hid said.

  His ma hid also telt him that her Aunt Jeannie hid hated Bitching Betty wae a vengeance.

  “Whit did Ah tell ye?” Fat Fingered Finklebaum asked him, bringing him back tae the situation in haun.

  “Whit did ye tell me?”

  “Ah telt ye last week that three bob is too much. They’re getting auld. If that maw ae yours disnae come back and take them aff ae me, Ah wullnae get ma money back oan them when Ah hiv tae sell them oan.”

  “She’ll hiv tae come back as they’ve goat a do oan in The McAslin Bar next Saturday and ma da will be wearing them. He disnae hiv anything else apart fae his work boots tae wear.”

  “Oh, Ah don’t know,” he said, doubtfully, gieing the shoes a right good scan.

  “Gie’s the three bob and Ah’ll tell her she’s goat tae come and pick them up and ye kin tell her yersel.”

  “Hmm, Ah don’t know.”

  “She says they’ll only be in fur a couple ae days and she’ll pick them up again oan Saturday morning, wance ma dae gets his wages oan Friday.”

  “Aye, bit ye’ll be back here next week, demanding three bob again.”

  “Aye, bit by then ye’ll hiv agreed a price wae her.”

  “Hmm, Ah, don’t know aboot that,” Fat Fingered murmured, rubbing the whiskers oan his chin wae they fat fingers ae his, hauding the shoes up, studying the soles and heels oan them fur the umpteenth time.

  “Well, neither dae Ah.”

  “Whit?”

  “Ah’m jist thinking ae whit her reaction will be if Ah go hame withoot three bob.”

  “Two bob.”

  “Oh, Ah don’t know aboot that,” Johnboy said, doubtfully, scratching under his right oxter wae his left haun, feeling nervous.

  “Whit?”

  “She’s likely tae come charging doon here like a wummin possessed, so she is.”

  “Ah jist cannae make up ma mind,” Fat Fingered mumbled again.

  “Two and a tanner then?” Johnboy pleaded.

  “Hmm, Ah don’t know aboot that.”

  “When will ye know?”

  “Ah’m thinking, Ah’m thinking.”

  “Look at the shine oan they toes. Ye kin see the moles oan yer face in the reflection.”

  “It’s awright fur ye tae say that, bit Ah jist cannae make up ma mind, Johnboy,” he mumbled, scratching his jowls again. “Ah hiv tae think how Ah’m gonnae pay aff aw ma overheids.”

  “She says Ah hivnae tae come back wae less than three bob or there’ll be big trouble aboot here.”

  “Ah’ll tell ye whit, Johnboy, Ah’ll compromise wae her.  Two and a tanner.”

  “Smashing. Kin ye hurry up because Ah’ve goat tae meet up wae ma pals.”

  When he came oot ae the pawn, he heided roond the corner tae the stables. He couldnae see or hear Tony, Joe or Skull up oan the roof fae the street. Horsey John and Tiny wur staunin speaking tae Manky Malcolm who owned the rag store next-door tae the stables. They stoapped talking as Johnboy approached, following him wae their gaze. Their staring, un-blinking beady eyes reminded Johnboy ae the Jesus pictures, wae the glowing heart, which aw the Catholics hid tae hiv, stuck up oan their walls at hame, tae make sure they goat intae Heaven…the wans wae the eyes that followed ye wherever ye sat in the room. Efter tagging oan behind Elvis, who like himsel, wis gieing the creepy, beady-eyed saints a wide body-swerve by stepping aff the pavement oan tae the road tae pass them, he nipped intae the first close beside the rag store. He’d heard his ma talking tae Betty fae next door earlier.  Betty hid said that when she wis doon hinging up her washing in the back court, the sun wis splitting the trees, even though the only trees he’d ever clocked in the Toonheid wis the wans up oan Grafton Square.  Oan the way up tae the pawn shoap, efter checking oot the trees oan Grafton Square oan the way past, he’d wondered how the sun managed tae split them withoot setting fire tae them.  None ae the trees oan the square looked split or as if they’d been oan fire recently, apart fae the wan at the John Street end ae the square that Johnboy and his pals hid tried tae burn doon during the Easter holidays.  He’d need tae remember tae ask Tony if he knew whit the score wis.  When he goat through tae the back ae the closemooth, he wis reminded that it hid been pishing doon wae rain through the night. He could vaguely remember it battering oan his bedroom windae and wakening him up. Whit he saw in front ae his eyes no only confirmed that the rain hid been and gone bit a hurricane hid come back and wis jist aboot tae hit him where he didnae think his ma hid ever kissed his da.

   Tony, Joe and Skull wur spread oot aboot ten feet apart, running towards him, wae Crisscross, and that big basturt ae a sergeant ae his, jist behind them, heiding Johnboy’s way, wae their mooths wide open, gulping fur air. Aw Johnboy could see wis their bodies fae the waist up. Their legs hid disappeared somewhere in amongst big splashes ae water as their feet pounded through aw the puddles scattered aboot the back court.

  “Run, Johnboy, run!” Tony screamed.

  Johnboy jist managed tae dae a quick aboot-turn before being run o’er by ten soaking feet. They aw burst oot intae Stanhope Street, disturbing Elvis, who wis bent o’er double, wae his tongue hinging oot, daeing a shite in the middle ae the street, bit who’d the good sense tae snib it and get tae fuck oot ae their way pronto, narrowly escaping being run o’er, as they hit the closemooth oan the other side ae the road.

  Wance they charged through the closemooth and made it intae the back court behind the pawn shoap, it wis a race between them getting up oan tae the midden and o’er the wall where Paul goat nabbed efter the St James Road break-in, and being nabbed by the pair ae bizzies behind them. It wis difficult fur Johnboy tae see mair than two inches in front ae him, as the dirty water fae the puddles wis being splattered across his face by the pounding ae his ain feet.  It wis like a muddy broon waterfall running away fae him. The faster he ran, the mair he wis being blinded. The four ae them managed tae land aw thegither up oan tap ae the midden. Before Johnboy disappeared o’er the dyke, he quickly glanced back at the sound ae Crisscross’s splash ae the day. 

  “Aw, naw, ya fucking wee reprobates, ye!” he shouted, staunin up wae his erms held oot in front ae him, water dripping aff ae his fingertips, wae whit looked like a rotten scabby doo stuck tae the front ae his uniform jaicket.

  The Sergeant hid awready stoapped and wis bent o’er between Crisscross and the midden, wae wan haun oan his side and the other wan clasping his knee, wheezing like a leaking hot water tank.

  Four sets ae feet landed oan the deck oan the other side ae the dyke wae a loud thud.  Nowan spoke before they came oot intae McAslin Street, heiding fur Parly Road. At the junction ae Taylor Street, jist before they nipped across Parly Road towards Lister Street, Tony shouted that they should aw heid fur the cabin. Withoot breaking step, Johnboy shouted that he’d tae heid hame bit that he wid catch up wae them later. As he veered aff tae his left, heiding doon towards The Grafton picture hoose and St James Road, he heard Skull shouting o’er the sounds ae screeching brakes and tooting car horns.

  “Last wan there’s an arse-bandit’s bum-boy!”