Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 (16 page)

  “Whit the fuck wis aw that aboot?” he asked himsel oot loud, as he hailed a taxi tae take him doon tae The Glesga Echo offices at the bottom ae Hope Street tae amend the morning edition ae the paper.

Chapter Twenty Two

  The shutter oan the camera hid jist clicked at the smiling faces when Slipper swung roond tae see whit the sound ae screeching tyres wis aw aboot.  Before he could say, ‘Wan mair, girls,’ he’d found himsel in the middle ae a riot.  Luckily, a haun hid grabbed him by the scruff ae the neck and pulled him tae the side ae the pavement, away fae the melee.  It hid been Sammy The Rat.

  “Christ’s sake, Sammy, whit the fuck’s gaun oan?”

  “Never mind that, Slipper, jist get that bloody camera ae yers gaun,” The Rat hid shouted, as a group ae wummin charged by them like something oot ae ‘Ivanhoe’, wae their placards stuck oot in front ae them like lances.  He couldnae believe whit he wis witnessing.  Two cars wae a couple ae photographers and journos fae The Evening Times and The Evening Citizen hid sped up John Street at the back ae a squad car and a Black Maria, before spilling oot oan tae the road.  He’d spotted Swinton McLean duck jist in time, as a stiletto heeled shoe came whizzing through the air, spinning like a Catherine Wheel before scudding aff the foreheid ae wan ae the young bizzies, who’d hit the deck like a sack ae totties. 

  Helen’s brain hid frozen momentarily before it screamed oot a warning.  The back ae the Black Maria’s back door hid crashed open and shat oot five bizzies wae another bunch spitting oot ae the squad car in front.

  “Take up defensive positions, girls!” she’d shouted, horrified at seeing the polis batons being drawn.

  “Charge the wankers!” Jane Mansfield hid bellowed, lowering her ‘LEECHES’ placard in front ae her in wan swift move, followed by Marilyn Monroe, Sandra Dee and two others. 

  It hid been like the Charge ae the Light Brigade or the charge ae the three and a hauf ton ae Toonheid wummin wae three hunner and thirty seven failed diets under their belts o’er the past ten years between them.  Nothing could staun in their way, except fur Skanky Smith, who’d stupidly stood his ground and shouted oot, “Remember the Boyne!” before being run o’er and trampled underneath ten ae the cheapest stiletto high heels that hid ever come oot ae the Barras in the 1950s.  The posse hid screeched tae a halt and aboot-turned in wan smooth manoeuvre that General George S. Patton wid’ve been proud ae and hid charged back intae the melee ae polis and newspaper people, taking the bizzies by surprise, who’d aw thought they wid’ve jist kept galloping aff hame efter that first charge. 

  “Code red twenty wan!  Code red twenty wan!  Officers under attack! Officers under attack!  Argh, ya hairy basturt, ye,” a howling, panicking voice hid been heard screaming intae the radio through the driver’s side windae ae the squad car as wan ae Elvis’s sons sank his teeth intae Big Jim’s arse.

  The lances hid soon become double-haunded swords and were being flayed aboot, cracking bare-heided bizzy skulls wae a skill that wid’ve put the knights ae the round table tae shame.  The cardboard signs that seconds earlier hid proclaimed ‘LEECHES,’ ‘FUCK AFF PARASIGHTS,’ ‘WHO’S NEXT?’ ‘WE ARRA PEEPLE,’ ‘NAE MAIR,’ and ‘KEEP OOT!’ fur the benefit ae any potential buyers, hid ended up either hinging aff their poles, or hid been flying through the air as the three photographers continued tae click away.  Helen hid jist managed tae duck tae her left as a swishing baton, held by Crisscross, missed her heid by a whisker.  She’d been relieved tae see that Betty hid whacked him oan the side ae that napper ae his before Helen hersel managed a right hook oan tae the skelly basturt’s kisser as his swishing exertions took him flying past her.  Maist ae the wummin who hidnae hid poles hid taken aff their stilettos and wur rattling holes in anything that moved roond aboot them.  At wan point, Liam Thompson’s ugly coupon hid appeared in front ae Helen.

  “Goat ye, ya hag, ye!” he’d shouted wae glee, lifting up an erm wae a baton in his right haun, before a pole came crashing doon oan tap ae that skull ae his.

  At the same time, Helen hid let loose wae a punch that hid jist aboot crumpled every knuckle in her haun as it scudded aff ae his right eye.  Meanwhile, another Black Maria and two squad cars wae reinforcements hid arrived oan the scene.  Efter that, it hidnae taken long fur the wummin tae be overpowered and bundled intae the back ae the vans.  Efter the dust hid finally settled, an argument hid started up amongst Glesga’s finest aboot who wis gonnae sit in the back ae the Black Marias tae escort the prisoners back doon tae Central tae be charged. None ae the constables who’d still been staunin wid obey a direct order tae enter the vans despite being threatened by Colin, the inspector.  They’d aw pretended tae be busy as they’d huddled roond the bonnet ae the squad car, that Big Jim lay sprawled face-doon across, wae his troosers and string underpants at his ankles, being gied first aid oan that teeth-riddled arse ae his by hauf a dozen sets ae hauns.

  “Right, ya cowardly basturts, we’ll sort it oot later.  Get in the cars and follow behind the vans. We’ll sort oot how we’re gonnae get them back oot wance we get them doon tae the station.”

  Colin hid walked o’er and helped Skanky, the Possil PC, who’d still been lying where he’d fallen at the start ae the charge, oan tae his feet.

  “Aw, ma baws,” he’d moaned.  “Ah think they’ve been punctured in three places.”

  “Inspector, Inspector, whit hiv ye tae say aboot whit’s happened here the day?” Swinton Maclean fae The Evening Times hid shouted, pushing his way through the uniforms.

  “As ye kin see, Ah’m surrounded by polis officers that hiv aw been injured by a bunch ae anarchists, jist fur carrying oot their lawful duty.”

  “How seriously ur they hurt?” Harold Sliver, fae The Evening Express hid asked, looking aboot at the walking wounded.

  “Well, Ah’m nae medical expert, bit Ah’d expect some ae ma officers tae be kept in o’er night up at The Royal, efter this,” Colin hid said, as The Sarge joined him wae a painful-looking dribbling swollen hauf-shut eye.

  “Hiv ye goat the ringleaders?”

  “Ah believe we’ve goat aw the principle rioters in custody.  Noo, if ye’ll excuse me, gentlemen, Ah’ve tae see tae the welfare ae ma officers.”

  “Wan mair photo, Inspector?” The Evening Times photographer hid asked, as The Inspector drew himsel up and puffed oot his chest.

  “Thanks, Inspector,” Swinton hid said.

  “Aye, thanks,” Harold Sliver hid echoed as The Inspector and The Sarge heided o’er tae wan ae the cars.

  “Inspector?”

  “Aye?”

  “Whit’s the story behind the riot?”

  “And who ur you, son?”

  “Sammy Elliot fae The Glesga Echo.”

  “Oh, ye ur, ur ye?” The Inspector hid growled, wae a smirk, before turning and walking away.

  “Charming wee basturt, eh?” Slipper hid said tae The Rat, as they watched the back ae The Inspector disappearing in amongst the group ae polis, staunin beside the squad cars.     

  The Rat hid been sniffing aboot, a puzzled frown oan his face.  He’d followed Harold and Swinton across tae their cars which wur parked oan the other side ae the street at the corner ae Grafton Square.

  “Harold?  Swinton?  Hing oan a minute,” The Rat hid shouted, scurrying across the road tae them.

  “Awright, Sammy?  Nice wee story, eh?  So, whit ur you daeing up here the day?  Ah widnae hiv expected tae see you, up here in a shite-hole like this,” Harold hid said tae him, looking aboot.

  “Ach, Ah wis jist passing through and Ah stoapped when Ah saw the wummin gathering.  How come the pair ae youse ur up here?”

  “Aye, we wur jist talking aboot that. We baith goat a tip-aff that there wis a riot gaun oan,” Swinton hid replied.

  “Oh?  And whit time wis that at?”

  “Well, Ah goat a call oan the news-desk, bang oan quarter tae eleven.”

  “Snap,” Harold hid said, nodding.

  “Who phoned in?”

  “They never said, other than tae advise us tae get up here quick, as their wis blood running doon the street.”

  “Why? Anything we should know aboot?”

  “Ach, nothing, Ah wis jist wondering.  Ah’ll see youse later, boys.”

  “Aye, see ye, Sammy.”

  “Er, excuse me, Mrs?” asked Bobby.

  “Aye, whit is it, son?”

  “Ah wis here, bang oan quarter tae ten tae pay ma maw’s bill.  That clock up oan the wall says it’s hauf eleven noo.”

  “Aye, well, the payment cashier his jist phoned in sick.  Ah wis jist aboot tae tell ye.  If Ah wis you, Ah’d come back the morra, son.  She should be back then.”

Chapter Twenty Three

  It didnae matter where ye wur being taken tae or where ye wur coming fae inside The Grove…everywan hid tae hiv a teacher escort.  Oan the rare occasion that a boy came across a door that wis awready open, leading intae another corridor, he couldnae jist walk through.  He hid tae wait tae be telt tae move oan.  Any breaking ae the rules usually meant being held doon across a table and yer arse being severely belted wae a thick leather belt fur attempting tae escape.  The funniest time ae the day fur Johnboy wis when everywan in the place hid tae move aff at wance, usually at breakfast, dinner or tea time.  The assembly point wis in the narrow corridor between the reception and the gym door, where everywan hid tae be coonted.  While the heid coont took place, the dorms wid be turned upside doon, tae make sure nowan wis hiding under a bed, waiting tae escape while everywan went fur their chow.  It wis also during the coonting that boys wid duck doon and crawl back up the line through people’s legs tae be double coonted, causing chaos.  The time it took tae coont a hunner odd boys wis usually anything between twenty minutes and a hauf an hour, depending oan how many people wur fucking aboot.  It wis also during this time that the teachers wid get frustrated and end up hivving run-ins wae the boys.  The morning efter Baby Huey arrived, he’d taken umbrage aboot hivving tae be kept hinging aboot while he wis starving, when he could’ve been up the stairs scoffing his lumpy porridge.

  “Hoi, whit dae ye think Ah am?  A bloody sheep?”  he’d snarled at wan ae Slapper’s arse-bandit pals, who wis daeing a heid coont.

  “Naw, a fucking heifer,” the teacher hid muttered under his breath, no thinking Baby wid hear him.

  That hid been the trigger tae set everywan aff.  Efter Baby hid started bleating loudly like a lost sheep, everywan in the corridor hid started tae outdo each other oan who could dae the best impersonation.  Twenty minutes ae bleating ‘baas’ later, the heid teacher, who wis a right psycho basturt, hid arrived oan the scene, demanding tae know whit the fuck aw the farmyard noise wis aboot.  Unfortunately, wan ae the Springburn Peg boys hid decided tae be different.  He’d proceeded tae let oot a big horse’s ‘neigh’ that wid’ve put Hopalong Cassidy’s horse, Topper, tae shame. This hid caused everywan tae pish themsels laughing because he’d done it jist efter the heidmaster hid threatened tae thrash the arse aff ae the next boy that made a bleating sound.  Efter The Peg boy hid been hauled oot, the noise-up ae ‘baa-ing’ hid continued unabated during and efter breakfast when everywan wis oot in the yard.  Whenever a boy’s name wis called oot fur anything, the whole place hid erupted.  There hid been sheep, cows, horses and Johnboy’s favourite, the best rendition ae Foghorn Leghorn he’d ever heard, coming fae a big hairy-arsed boy fae Shettleston who hid the deepest voice in the place.  Whit hid impressed Johnboy aboot The Grove wis the fact that when the chips wur doon, everywan seemed tae stick thegither, despite hauf the boys in the place hating each other.  Oan the doon side, being up close tae each other in the corridor could be a bit dangerous.  A few people hid awready growled at him since his arrival, asking whit the fuck he wis looking at.  He wis always glad that none ae the uglies or Paul hid heard them.  There wis nae such thing as a square-go in The Grove.  If two people started fighting, their pals either jumped in or backed doon because ae the opposition staunin in front ae them. Oan tap ae that, there wis always the wans who liked tae live dangerously.  They wur the wans that reminded Johnboy ae Skull.  Johnboy’s personal favourite wis an irritating wee basturt who really impressed him.  Johnboy hid been watching him closely o’er a few days and hid even tried tae master the boy’s technique himsel, bit hidnae come close.  The boy wid clamp his teeth thegither, spreading his lips in a relaxed grimace, before letting fly wae a tiny wee spit fae between a gap in they two front teeth ae his.  Whit hid impressed Johnboy wis that he wis able tae squirt oot the tiny wee spits in machine-gun fashion or wan at a time, while controlling the speed and distance.  Johnboy hid been wanting tae go up and ask him if he’d gie him a lesson, bit the few times he’d plucked up the courage tae actually go and speak tae him, the boy hid always seemed tae be engrossed wae his pals.  The first time Johnboy hid shuffled up close tae him, The Spitter hid been in full flow, letting fly, right, left and centre.  The size ae his target didnae seem tae bother him either.  Johnboy wid clock the victim swatting or rubbing the back ae his neck or lug before suddenly twirling roond, glaring at everywan tae see who the fuck wis tormenting him.  The Spitter wid jist be staunin there, face forward, aw innocent, sporting a face like an angel.  A few times, some poor wee innocent wid receive a punch or a skelp oan the mooth fae some big basturt who thought it wis him.  An opportunity hid presented itsel and Johnboy hid jist been oan the verge ae asking The Spitter fur a wee demo, when a big hairy-arsed gorilla fae Govan hid turned roond and swung a punch at The Spitter’s heid.  Being a shifty wee fucker, he’d ducked, while at the same time, letting fly wae a swift kick tae the baws ae the Govan monkey.  When Hairy Heid hid doubled up, wan ae The Spittoon’s mates hid goat him oan the side ae the jaw wae a nice right hook.  Johnboy hid also been trying tae find oot if The Spitter hid a special wee hole between his front teeth, so it hidnae come as a surprise tae Johnboy that The Spitter kept gieing him funny looks when he caught Johnboy wae his heid side oan, trying tae hiv a deck ae they gnashers ae his. 

  Oan the morning before Johnboy wis due tae get his liberation, everywan wis lined up in the corridor, as usual, bleating away like randy rams anytime wan ae the teachers opened their gubs.   Usually there wur aw sorts ae wan-liners flying aboot, and this morning wisnae any different, other than the Garngad uglies wur aw quite quiet fur a change.  Johnboy jist assumed it wis because Paul hid been telt five minutes earlier that he wis getting picked up later in the morning and wis being shipped oot tae St Ninian’s Approved School, which wis somewhere oot in Stirlingshire, and wis run by a bunch ae horny Monks, who wur aw well-known fur their arse-banditry.  Johnboy wis looking forward tae his wee bowl ae porridge when he felt wee irritating spits, rapidly ricocheting aff ae that right lug ae his.  Johnboy wis daeing his best no tae gie the ugly wee fud the pleasure ae him rubbing his lug wae his haun or turning roond tae gie him a sherricking, bit eventually, he wisnae able tae haud it in any longer.  Tottie, unaware ae whit wis happening, wis in full flow, trying tae impress Johnboy by telling him some lying dinger ae a story that nowan, no even his ain maw, wid’ve believed.  Johnboy suddenly swung roond tae face the wee spitting prick, bit before Johnboy could even open his gub, Paul took wan step forward and let loose wae the sweetest southpaw that hid ever been witnessed since Benny Lynch wis slung oot ae The Gay Gordon oan Parly Road fur being as pissed as a fart, the night war wis declared oan Germany.  Everywan staunin in the corridor ducked oan hearing the crunch.  Johnboy remembered Tony telling him that him and Paul hid gone tae a boxing club across in the Coocaddens fur a while. The Spitter took flight backwards, crashing through his sniggering pals at a hunner mile an hour.  He never knew whit hid hit him.  Wance they’d goat o’er their initial shock, aw his pals turned tae see where the sledgehammer hid come fae.

  “Who the fuck ur youse looking at, ya bunch ae fannies, ye?” Chazza challenged them, fae Paul’s left.

  Wae no response being forthcoming, everywan went back tae whit they wur daeing before they wur interrupted, which wis ‘baa-ing’ up and doon the corridor.

  “Ur ye awright, Spit?”  Johnboy heard wan ae The Spittoon’s pals asking him, clearly concerned, fae behind his left shoulder.

  “The basturt’s knocked oot ma two front teeth,” a whistling, dribbling, slobbery wee voice slobbered back.

  “Aw nice wan, Paul…Ah wis gonnae ask him fur a demo oan how tae dae that spit ae his, bit thanks tae you, Ah’m fucked,” Johnboy moaned.

  “Ach, never mind, he kin show ye how tae whistle insteid.”

  By this time, the queue hid begun tae move and Johnboy settled back intae looking forward tae his porridge.  It wis nearly as good as his ma’s, when she goat roond tae buying a packet, that wis.  When they reached the tap ae the stairs, they turned left intae the dining rooms.  The hatches where they goat served wur first up, oan the left.  Oan the right, aboot hauf a dozen open bays, each containing two big tables, wur waiting tae be filled up.  As the queue snaked alang towards the hatches, the furthest away bays filled up first.  Shuffling alang in front ae Johnboy that morning wur Paul, Silent, Minky, Tottie, Baby and Patsy.  Behind him, Sammy, Chazza, Freckles and Bean took up the rear.  He could jist see Tottie moving across tae wan ae the tables when the familiar sound ae crunching teeth echoed alang the corridor.  If anywan hid blinked they wid’ve missed it.  Wan minute, wan ae the boys behind the serving hatch wis scooping a ladle full ae porridge intae the bowls and the next, he’d disappeared.  The only tell-tale evidence that somewan hid been staunin there two seconds earlier, happily dishing oot porridge, wis the trail ae splattered porridge that ran back fae the hatch across the ceiling towards the far wall and the ladle that wis staunin upright, stuck in a wee growing molehill ae porridge oan the stainless steel table in the middle ae the kitchen.  There wis nae ladler tae be seen.

  “Aw, fucking nice wan, Baby, ya fat fucker, ye.  How ur we supposed tae get oor porridge noo, eh?  Tell me that, ya fat fucking pig?” Patsy moaned.

  “Look, ya eejit ,ye,” Baby said, using his bowl tae scoop oot porridge, and dripping it everywhere as he lumbered away tae get a seat beside the others.

  “Ah’ll let ye aff this time,” Patsy said, back tae being his usual ‘happy as Larry’ self.

  Despite leaning in through the hatch, Johnboy couldnae see who it wis that Baby hid skelped.

  “Who wis that then?” Johnboy asked Baby when he sat doon opposite him.

  “Who wis who?”

  “Him…the wan ye scudded.”

  “Did ye no recognise him? It wis Silent’s pal…that prick fae the Memel Toi.  If Ah see him later oan, Ah’m gonnae tell the basturt that Ah want tae see him making Silent’s bed up in the mornings fae noo oan.”

  There wis still nae sign ae any ae the teachers at the hatch and the porridge server hidnae resurfaced, so, as each boy came tae the porridge urn, he lifted up a bowl and scooped up his breakfast.  Johnboy wis jist slurping his first spoonful intae his gub when Tottie started tae moan aboot his wee pal, The Spittoon, who wis sitting at the table opposite them.

  “Ah wish that dribbling-faced wee basturt wid fuck aff.  He’s putting me aff ma good porridge wae aw that blood dribbling doon his chin like fucking Dracula.”

  Before Dracula could reply, Paul suddenly jumped up oan tae the table, sending bowls and milk scattering aw o’er the place.  He bent doon and snatched his chair up above his heid and started whacking fuck oot ae the windae.  Ye could hear the glass landing oan the road ootside.  Within hauf a second, he wis oot ae the windae and gone, followed by whit sounded like a big metal drum exploding.  Whit took Johnboy by surprise even mair wis the second explosion.  Silent hid jumped up, stepped through the windae, turned tae smile at everywan before drapping doon oot ae sight oan tae the bonnet ae the heidmaster’s car.  The alarm bells went aff and aw the teachers began tae run aboot in a panic.  Two ae them tried tae run up tae the windae between the tables, bit Baby hid awready stood up wae his empty bowl and made oot he wis gaun up fur seconds, blocking their way wae that fat belly ae his.  The last Johnboy saw ae Paul and Silent that day wis when Paul disappeared oot ae the gate at the tap ae the drive, followed by Silent, hot oan his trail.  Johnboy turned roond tae ask Patsy if he knew an escape hid been oan the cards, bit saw that Patsy wis busy spitting intae the bowls ae porridge ae the other two boys fae the Memel Toi who’d been distracted by aw the commotion.

  “Fuck, if Ah’d known they wur offskie, Ah wid’ve joined in,” Johnboy said tae Patsy, disappointed at being left oot ae aw the excitement.

  “Whit fur?  Ye’re oot the morra, ya eejit, ye.”

  “Whit’s that goat tae dae wae anything?” Johnboy asked, taking a scoop oot ae his bowl and keeping a tight grip oan it since he knew Patsy wis oan the go and everywan who knew Patsy, knew fine well that he’d previous convictions fur tampering wae people’s meals when their backs wur turned.