Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 (31 page)

  Helen wisnae too sure whether she wis gonnae puke aw o’er the fancy desk in front ae her or jist pish hersel laughing oan the spot.

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said meekly, as Hairy Chops marched her oot ae the office.

  The Governor picked up the telephone.

  “Yes, Margaret…can you get me Chief Inspector Smith of the City of Glasgow Police please?  Thank you.”

Chapter Forty One

  “Where’s the rest ae them went tae?” Silent asked, as they stood underneath the big wall oan Richmond Street, at the back ae The Rottenrow Maternity Hospital. 

  “They’ve fucked aff doon tae the poor families’ school store in Martha Street, where we aw get free clothes and shoes fae, jist before we aw go back tae school efter the holidays.  It’s like a big fancy store wae aw kinds ae swag.  Ye get Tuf shoes and everything.  They’re away aff tae see if they kin find a way in tae screw the place.”

  “Am Ah poor?”

  “Naw, Ah’m poor.  Ye’re poor, poor.”

  “How dae ye make that wan oot then?”

  “Hiv ye goat a ma and da?”

  “Naw.”

  “Ah hiv, so that makes me poor.  You hivnae, so that makes you poor, poor.  Goat it?”

  “Ah think so,” Silent said, clearly impressed.

  “See whit happens when ye run aboot wae us?  Skull wis right…who the hell needs school?”

  “Dae ye get Wayfarers?  The wans wae the compass in the inside ae yer heel?”

  “Everything,” Johnboy lied.

  Johnboy hid asked that very question, when he wis doon there getting rigged oot, jist before the summer holidays finished, wae his ma and his three sisters.  When he saw how excited Silent wis aboot getting his manky paws oan a pair ae Clarks Wayfarers, Johnboy didnae wanted tae spoil his fun.

  “So, if ye’re poor and Ah’m poor, poor, oan account ae me no hivving a maw and a da, dis that mean Ah get two ae everything then?” the fly wee tadger asked.

  Johnboy hid tae think aboot that wan before he answered.  Silent probably awready hid the next fly question aw ready waiting fur him, he thought, as he eyed-up the barbed wire oan tap ae the wall, looking fur a way in.

  “Probably, bit ye’d need an adult wae ye tae speak up fur ye.  Wan look at ye and they’d clock straight away that ye’re a lying wee prick, trying tae blag an extra pair ae shoes oot ae them.”

  “Oh, right,” Skull said, disappointed.

  “Aye, bit don’t worry.  Ah’ll speak tae ma ma and Ah’ll get her tae take ye doon wae us when we go tae get kitted oot the next time.”

  “Honest?”

  “Hiv Ah ever lied?”

  “Right, how dae we get o’er the wall then?” Silent asked, following Johnboy’s gaze.

  Efter a few wee false starts, they managed tae climb up the big wall and get o’er the barbed wire, their baws still hinging where they should be, as they landed doon in front ae the midgie bins.

  “Jeez, there’s hunners ae them,” Silent said, ready tae dive right in.

  “Naw, Silent, listen.  Watch whit ye’re daeing.  Whit ye hiv tae dae is lift each ginger bottle up by the neck wae yer two fingers, jist like this,” Johnboy said, demonstrating tae Silent, before slinging the empty Irn Bru bottle up o’er the barbed wire, tae land in the dirt oan the other side.

  “Why?”

  “Ye hiv tae watch oot fur aw the needles that ur in the bins amongst the bottles,” Johnboy said, showing him a plastic tube wae blood in it, wae a needle stuck oan the end.

  “Is that real blood?”

  “Aye…and that’s wan wae a tube.  Underneath aw that other shite, there ur probably needles sitting oan their lonesome, waiting fur some unsuspecting manky fingers.  They wans ur harder tae spot, so don’t go wrapping yer hauns roond a bottle, unless ye hiv a good squint ae whit’s underneath it.  It’s fucking sore if ye get wan ae them jabbed in yer finger.  Goat it?”

  “Whit aboot the blood?  Dis that dae ye any herm?” Silent asked, looking intae a midgie bin full ae bloody bags and cloths, wae an empty bottle ae American Cream Soda sticking oot ae the middle ae it.

  “Naw, look at me, Ah’m still staunin.”

  “Right, let’s get tore intae them then,” Silent said, like a sojer oan a mission.

  “They must’ve hid a party up in the wards or something.  Ah’ve never came roond here and goat so many bottles at the wan time.”

  “Somebody’s probably hid twins,” Silent guessed.

  Efter aboot hauf an hour, they wur back o’er the tap ae the dyke, sitting looking at their treasure.

  “We’ll get thrupence a bottle.”

  “Whit’s the wee ink stamps oan them?”

  “That’s whit they fly fuckers in the shoaps stamp oan them so they know whit’s their bottles.  If they don’t hiv their ain ink stamp oan them, they won’t take them back.”

  “So, dae we throw they wans away then?”

  “Naw, we look tae see whit stamps we recognise and then we take they wans tae the right shoaps.  We tear the labels aff a couple ae them and mix they wans in.  They don’t usually argue wae ye when they see some ae their ain stamps.”

  “Whit aboot the wans that we don’t know where they came fae?”

  “Sherbet gies us tuppence a bottle fur them.”

  “How ur we gonnae carry them aw?” Silent asked, reading Johnboy’s mind, as they baith admired their stash ae twenty seven bottles.

  “Ah’ll need tae go and find a couple ae boxes.  Ah wis looking when we wur at the midgie bins, bit Ah couldnae see any,” Johnboy said.

  “Ur we still gonnae dae the roonds ae the wards?  We could maybe get some boxes oan oor way.”

  “Aye, bit no the day.  We cannae leave these here or some thieving basturt will be aff wae them.  When we sneak in through the front door, some other day, we’ll hiv tae get in and oot quick though.  There’s a big skinny matron, who’s fucking mental, who goes aff her heid every time she clocks me.  Ah hivnae done a bloody thing tae her, bit even when she sees us hinging aboot ootside the front door, where the ambulances drap aff the pregnant wummin, she his a hairy fit.  The first time we met wis when Ah wis jist sauntering oot ae wan ae the wards, where aboot hauf a dozen really nice wummin hid jist hid their snappers.  Ah bumped intae her wae ma erms full ae ginger bottles.  Ah swear tae God, ye wid’ve thought Ah wis a bloody baby snatcher or something.  Thank God she didnae clock me haudin the new weans oan ma lap while the new maws wur hunting aboot in the cupboards beside their beds, looking fur empty bottles.  Ah suspect she might’ve clocked me raking aboot in the midgie bins oot the back before Ah sneaked in.  Since then, it’s been blue murder every time she clocks me.  The barbed wire we hid tae climb o’er appeared aboot a day efter she chased me tae fuck, drapping ma good ginger bottles aw o’er the corridor.”

  “Did she catch ye?”

  “Did she hell.  If she hid, Ah widnae be speaking tae ye the day.  The main thing is, whitever ye’re daeing in there, don’t let her catch ye or ye’re pan breid.”

  “So, where will we get the boxes then?”

  “You anchor here and Ah’ll go and see where Tony, Joe and Paul ur.  Martyr Street is jist oan the other side ae the university building.  Ah’ll go and get them, and they kin gie’s a haun tae carry them.”

  “Aye, okay.  Don’t be long,” Silent said, looking aboot, as Johnboy heided towards the big hill oan Montrose Street.

  Johnboy wis only away aboot five minutes when he bumped intae the rest ae The Mankys.  They wur messing aboot ootside Cherry’s, the wee sweetie shoap, roond the corner fae Johnboy’s street.  Johnboy whistled tae them tae come across Cathedral Street where he wis peeking oot ae the corner ae The Rottenrow.  He didnae want tae risk his ma clocking him or he wis deid.  By the time the boys came across and followed him roond tae where Silent wis guarding the ginger bottles, Johnboy knew something wis wrang.  Fur a start, there wis nae sign ae the bottles and secondly, Silent wis sitting oan his arse, trying tae stoap the blood pishing oot ae his beak.  When they ran up tae Silent tae find oot whit the score wis, they found that some dirty fucking robbing basturts hid been and gone.

  “Who done it, Silent?” Tony demanded, looking aboot.

  “Some big boys.”

  “Which way did they go?”

  “O’er in that direction,” Silent mumbled through his fingers, pointing towards North Portland Street.

  “How many wur there?”

  “Five, Ah think.”

  “Whit did they look like?”

  “Ah don’t know, bit there wis a fat wan.  He wis the wan that heid-butted me oan ma nose.  Ah think he wis the leader.”

  “Alex Milne!” Johnboy cursed.

  “That fat, fucking blob ae lard?  That basturt?  His he no learned his lesson yet?” Tony snarled.

  The Mankys spotted Fat Boy and his gang as soon as they shot oot ae North Portland Street oan tae Cathedral Street.  Paul caught sight ae them as they disappeared roond the bend beside Collins the book publishers intae Stirling Road.

  “Right, let’s heid up Canning Lane o’er tae St James Road.  We’ll try and cut the basturts aff at the tap ae Ronald Street.  Try and no let them see us until we kin grab them. Ah want them aw,” Tony shouted, as they shot up Canning Lane at a gallop.

  Fat Boy Milne hid finished at Johnboy’s school in the summer and wis noo in the City Public next door.  Jist before the start ae the summer holidays, he’d jist aboot torn aff Johnboy’s lug by gieing it an Olympic gold medal-winning flick wae that fat middle finger ae his, in the corridor ootside Johnboy’s Teacher, Olive Oyl’s class.  That lug ae his hid been red raw and sore fur aboot a week efterwards.  That hid been the day that Johnboy hid started tae hing aboot wae Tony Gucci and his mates.  Tony and him hid tracked Fat Boy aw o’er the Toonheid, putting Tonto tae shame, while Fat Boy wis delivering his Evening Times and Evening Citizens.  The fat basturt hid waited fur Johnboy efter school, efter Johnboy hid retaliated fur his cheek by splattering his famous ‘sticky screamer’ oan tae that fat foreheid ae his.  Johnboy and his pals at the time called it ‘the sticky screamer’, because it wis always followed by a blood curdling scream wance it landed.  It hid tae come fae the back ae the nose and oot through yer curved tongue.  Tae get the splat right...and the scream…it hid tae shoot oot in a trail at aboot a hunner miles a minute and land bang in the middle ae the victim’s foreheid.  It wis like an egg hitting a shoap windae.  It didnae matter who copped their whack, the scream ae horror wis right up there wae the wummin in the shower ae the film ‘Psycho.’  Hivving caught up wae the fat son ae Johnny Weissmuller that day, efter he’d knocked fuck oot ae Johnboy doon at the school gates while making Tarzan noises tae impress his ugly pals, Tony hid held Fat Boy, while Johnboy kicked his baws wae the same determination that big Tommy Gemmell wid’ve put in tae scoring a penalty against Rangers in a cup final.  Johnboy wis secretly hauf hoping that they widnae catch up wae Fat Boy and his pals, even though Silent wis running beside him, haudin his nose wae his haun tae stoap the bleeding.  They couldnae hiv timed it better, or worse...depending oan which side ae the road ye wur oan.  They came upon them at the corner ae Ronald Street, at the tap ae Taylor Street.  Aw ye could hear wis the crashing and smashing ae the bottles hitting the pavement as every man, jack and his dug heided fur the hills, or closemooths in this case, wae The Mankys in hot pursuit.  Fur a fat basturt, Blob Boy could fairly shift.  His only problem wis that The Mankys could shift faster.  They hit the closes, aw screaming in tune wae each other.  It wis like a tooting train gaun through a tunnel.  Wan minute, the son ae Tarzan and his pals wur screaming like banshees and the next, the noise drapped, only tae return when they appeared oot ae the closemooth oan the other side ae the tenement.  Tony, Joe and Paul disappeared up their arses through the nearest closemooth, while Johnboy and Silent heided through the next wan up, aw exiting at the same time oan the other side.  It aw seemed tae happen in slow motion.  Paul tripped a wee skinny basturt up, causing him tae fall forward, tripping up aw his pals.  It wis like a row ae screaming dominos drapping like black bluebottles.  Johnboy hid never seen Tony, Joe and Paul in action thegither before.  At wan point, he thought Tony and Joe wur gonnae end up hivving a square-go wae each other, efter getting in each other’s road, while putting the boot intae that fat arse that wis bobbing up and doon like a bulging mattress.  Paul, oan the other haun, wis a bit mair at ease, wandering aboot, kicking fuck oot ae the other four, who wur lying oan the ground, screaming and bleating that it wisnae them.  The Fat Flickerer wis, meanwhile, trying tae claw the wet rope aff ae his fat coupon that Joe hid picked up oot ae a puddle and wis trying unsuccessfully tae strangle him wae.  Johnboy wis relieved tae see that Joe hidnae managed tae wrap it roond they ten chins ae his which wur impersonating a neck.  Meanwhile, Johnboy and Silent jist stood there, hauf-embarrassed fur no joining in and hauf-shiting themsels, wondering whit tae dae next.  At last, the screaming and the dull thuds ae feet landing oan flesh and bone calmed doon tae the odd slap here and there.  Joe dragged Halloween Cake Face, wae the rope still wrapped roond that heid and face ae his, across tae the side ae the midgie dyke they used as a landing board when coming o’er the wall fae the back ae The McAslin Bar.  There wis a big puddle stretching across hauf the back that came right up tae the side ae the dyke.  Johnboy noticed there wis whit looked like a rotten, spread-eagled doo that wis as deid as a pancake, hauf submerged in the puddle, floating gently in the breeze.  Paul awready hid his four ginger bottle hijackers kneeling doon in the watery mud wae their backs tae the puddle, looking absolutely terrified.  Wance Fatty wis kneeling, terrified, beside them, Tony gied them a telling aff.

  “Right, ya basturts, ye, who done that?” he said, pointing o’er at Silent.