The Wummin: The Glasgow Chronicles 5 (29 page)

  “Aye, she’s chomping at the bit, so she is, bit we’ll need tae watch her though.”

  “Oh, by the way, Ah read that new wummin’s page ye said ye wur helping oot oan, Pearl,” Paula said.

  “Did ye like it?” Pearl asked her.

  “It wis shite, so it wis.  Who the hell could afford tae buy aw that kind ae stuff?”

  “Well, ye’re sitting decked oot in Biba, Paula,” Senga reminded her.

  “Aye, bit Ah never bought it masel.  Jake goat it fur me.  Dae ye like it?” Paula asked, looking adoringly doon tae the other end ae the lounge, where her boyfriend wis showing aff his favourite party piece ae swallying doon a pint ae lager fae the other side ae the glass, withoot using his hauns.

  “God, they’re actually pretty simple-minded fur a bunch ae up-and-coming big tickets, so they ur,” Frances said, as the lassies smiled at the cheers fae the boys, when Jake spilt hauf a glassful ae his lager doon the front ae his Arthur Black’s made-tae-measure shirt.

  “So, whit’s that new boss ae yers like then?”

  “Ach, she’s awright, Ah suppose.”

  “Ye suppose?”

  “Well, at first glance, she comes across as a stuck-up tramp fae Dennistoun, who’s obviously done good by marrying the posh, rich bloke who writes the motoring column fur the paper and who’s long forgotten where she originally came fae.  Then when ye get tae know her, low and behold, she is a stuck-up tramp fae Dennistoun who’s obviously done good by marrying the posh, rich bloke who writes the motoring column fur the paper and who his long forgotten where she originally came fae,” Pearl said tae laughter.

  “Ah hate stuck-up cows like that.  Ah worked wae somewan exactly like her who wis so bloody pathetic, so she wis.  She thought she wis the bees-knees because she came fae Springboig and hid a garden the size ae a postage stamp.  Christ, Ah couldnae make oot whit she wis garbling oan aboot hauf the time wae that false accent ae hers,” Paula volunteered.

  “Aye, it’s the converts that ye hiv tae watch oot fur.”

  “Senga, ye’re no still thinking aboot approaching that social worker wan tae gie her side ae the story, ur ye?” Aggie asked.

  “Aye, why?”

  “Why?  Er, how aboot, if the shoe hid been oan the other fit, dae ye think she’d gie a toss fur somewan like you?”

  “Oh, Ah don’t know aboot that.”

  “Of course ye dae.  When his anywan sitting here ever met a social worker who’s no a right horror, eh?”

  “Well, horror or no, Ah feel really sorry fur her, so Ah dae,” Senga replied defensively.

  “The problem wae you, Senga, is that ye’re jist a saft touch, so ye ur.  Why risk yer job, yer career, oan somewan who widnae pish oan ye if ye wur oan fire?”

  “Oh, Aggie, ye don’t hiv a clue whit ye’re oan aboot.  Ah’d defy anywan sitting here tae say they didnae feel sorry fur her, efter whit she’s been through,” Senga retorted.

  “Ah don’t think Aggie’s saying she widnae feel sorry fur her, Senga.  It’s jist because ae who she is…a social worker.  Is that no right, Aggie?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Hiv ye no read aw the stuff in the papers aboot her?  She sounds like a real man-eater, so she dis,” Paula said.

  “There’s a lassie at ma work who his heard, oan good authority, because she knows somewan who knows somewan else that worked in the same office as her, who said she’s slept wae every single client she’s came in contact wae through her work, so she his,” Helen said, knowingly.

  “And Ah heard that her man, the prison governor, wis behind the shooting, so he wis.  It seems he paid a couple ae hard guys, fae up in the Bar-L nick, tae go and shoot that Tam Simpson and that patient ae yers, Senga,” Aggie said, whispering.

  “Sounds a bit iffy tae me, Mary,” Pearl came back wae.

  “It isnae any mair iffy than whit Helen his jist come oot wae,” Aggie retorted indignantly.

  “So, whit’s she like then, Senga?” Mary asked, as everywan looked at Senga.

  “It’s hard tae say really.  She disnae talk.”

  “There’s a surprise,” Aggie murmured.

  “Naw, naw, she cannae talk because ae her injuries.  Ah talk tae her, and if she wants tae reply, she writes it doon oan a wee pad she keeps by her bed.”

  “Will she ever be able tae talk again then?” Frances asked.

  “They’re no sure.  She’s hid a couple ae major operations so far, bit she’s goat plenty mair tae get.  They’re also no sure if she’ll get blood poisoning as they couldnae get aw the pellets oot ae her because ae where they’re sitting.”

  “Why wid she get blood poisoning?”

  “Seemingly, the pellets in the shotgun cartridge used tae blast her in the neck wur made ae lead and the lead kin contaminate yer body, so it kin
.
 
 
She hid hauf a dozen pellets in her intracranially...which means in her skull, by the way...and that’s whit’s worrying them as that kin be really dangerous, due tae them being in contact wae her cerebrospinal fluid.  Even if she disnae end up suffering fae lead toxicity, she’s still goat a few pellets sitting in her subcutaneous tissue...that’s the bit jist under her skin...so she’s still no oot ae the water yet, so she’s no.”

  “Christ, that sounds really bad.  Will she live?”

  “Right, none ae ye kin repeat this tae anywan, because the polis and the hospital ur no broadcasting her injuries, bit it wis a miracle she survived
.
 
When the shotgun went aff, she wis staunin behind that Tam Simpson.  Obviously, he caught the worst ae it, bit seeing as she wis staunin right behind him, she copped her whack maistly oan the neck and the bottom part ae her jaw.  As well as blasting her neck, which is in some mess, by the way, she lost hauf ae her bottom teeth oan the right haun side.  They’ve goat her jaw wired shut, bit she’ll need tae go through reconstructive surgery tae try and get her face back tae some sort ae semblance ae whit it wis like before the damage wis inflicted.”

  “So, how dis she eat then?”

  “She gets fed through her stomach by an abdominal feeding tube.  She’s also goat a tracheotomy tube and whit they call a right sub-clavian central venous catheter through her neck intae her throat tae help her breath.   They’re still no sure if she’ll ever get her voice back,” Senga whispered tae the hushed group.

  “Is that no terrible?” Aggie said, looking aboot and breaking the silence.

  “Ah thought ye jist said ye couldnae gie a fuck aboot her, Aggie?”

  “Aye, bit Ah widnae wish that oan anywan...no even a social worker, so Ah widnae.”

  “Ah must admit, that first week efter she came roond efter her operations, Ah used tae leave her room in tears, especially when she saw whit the papers wur aw writing aboot her,” Senga said.

  “And ye want tae be a journalist, Pearl?” Frances asked, accusingly.

  “Aye, bit no that kind ae journalist.”

  “Whit other kind is there?  Look at the shite they wrote aboot Helen Taylor?” Frances reminded everywan, tae nods.

  “Anyway, Ah’ve goat really friendly wae her, so Ah hiv.  Aye, she’s a social worker who’s probably taken weans aff ae hauf the wummin in the city, bit she’s only human, so she is.”

  “Dae ye think she’ll go fur this then?” Aggie asked.

  “Whit?”

  “That mad plan you and Pearl hiv cooked up that’s gonnae get ye sacked?”

  “Ah’m no sure.  When Ah’ve spoken tae her aboot aw the horrible press coverage aboot her, she wrote oan her pad that she’d dae anything tae put her side ae the story across, bit she disnae think she’ll ever get a fair shout.”

  “Why dis she no jist get the press in or gie oot a statement or something?”

  “As Ah said, she jist disnae trust anywan.  She hisnae seen her man, the governor, since she goat shot, and her weans, who ur grown up noo, hivnae been near, so they hivnae.  In fact, the only people she sees, apart fae the hospital staff ur the polis.  It seems as if she’s been abandoned by her family, which is probably understandable seeing as whit she’s done tae them.  Aw the papers kin see is some daft wummin who should’ve known better, who let her man, her family and her side doon.  She says she disnae recognise the person in the papers that they’re writing aw this crap aboot.”

  “So, whit dis she expect then?  She wis shagging wan ae the biggest basturts in the toon.  Look whit him and that brother ae his did tae poor Joe?”

  “It’s the maw ae they Simpsons Ah feel sorry fur.  No only wis her eldest boy shot tae death, bit the other wan is oan the run fur murder.  Aye, and look whit poor Kate Simpson ended up daeing...bloody-well went and took an overdose.  It’s a wonder Mrs Simpson is able tae get her arse oot ae her bed in the morning wae aw this gaun oan.  If ye think poor Issie and Tam wur in a bad way wae Joe getting stabbed tae death, imagine whit it must be like fur her?”

  “Aye, bit the point Ah’m making is that Tam Simpson wis a vicious, dirty liberty-taking psycho, as everywan knows, whose name only gets a mention in the passing.  You go and read whit they’re saying every day in the papers and see if Ah’m wrang.  Alison Crawford is being crucified every single day by the newspapers because she wis caught oot hivving an affair and because she’s a wummin, so she is.  That’s the difference,” Senga said, silencing them.

  “And that new boss ae yers, Pearl?  Dae ye think she’ll go alang wae aw this withoot sensationalising her story?”

  “Ah widnae trust Mary Marigold as far as Ah could throw her, bit fae whit Ah kin make oot, this new column ae hers is supposed tae be aboot wummin fur wummin, so it is...if only she’d believe that.  The problem is, she’s so doon in the dumps, feeling sorry fur hersel...that and the fact that she sits there aw day slagging hell oot ae aw the management, who ur aw men, fur dumping her doon tae the second flair.”

  “And papping you oan tae her?” Senga said, smiling.

  “Christ, ye should’ve heard her when Ah telt her that it wis her man that goat me the job, working wae her,” Pearl said tae laughter.

  “Ah still don’t get it,” Frances said.

  “If Ah kin persuade her tae start daeing some good stuff, writing aboot whit wummin really like, then maybe people wid stoap and think, insteid ae harping oan aboot stuff they don’t know aboot.”

  “Like whit?”

  “Hmm, Ah don’t know...wummin’s stuff...that kind ae stuff.”

  “Aye, bit whit?” Frances persisted.

  “Like, how is Alison Crawford, who probably isnae gonnae talk again, by the way, gonnae cope in the future?  If ye look at who’s writing aw the garbage aboot who she’s supposed tae hiv slept wae, ye’ll see that it’s aw men,” Senga said, jumping in tae help Pearl oot.

  “Oh well, good luck tae the pair ae ye then...it sounds as if ye’ll need it,” Frances said, staunin up and heiding fur the toilet.

  “Look, there’s a couple leaving.  Let’s grab their table so we kin talk in peace, Pearl,” Senga said, picking up her drink, as the rest ae the lassies in the circle burst intae ‘Son Ae Ma Father’ by Chicory Tip.

  “Right, Pearl, whit’s the score then?”

  “As Ah’ve jist said, she jumped at the chance, bit she’s no tae be trusted.  She’d sell her granny fur the right price, so she wid.  Ah jist don’t trust her.  She wis prattling oan aboot getting decked oot in a nurse’s uniform and getting ye tae slip her intae the room, so she wis.”

  “Did ye tell her she’s goat a bizzy ootside her door?”

  “Aye, bit that didnae put her aff wan bit.  Ah’m telling ye, Senga, this wan is as mental as a hauf baked fruit loaf, so she is.  Ah managed tae put her aff until Ah spoke tae yersel.  If she disnae get her story, then Ah’ll probably be oot oan ma arse.”

  “Oh, Pearl, Ah’m sorry.  This is aw ma fault, so it is.”

  “Ach, don’t worry.  As soon as Ah clapped eyes oan her and she opened her gub, Ah knew ma days wur numbered.”

  “So, when dis she need tae know by?”

  “She wanted me tae phone her the morra, wance Ah’d spoken tae you, bit Ah put her aff until Monday.  She sees this as a way ae getting back intae favour wae the high heid wans who’ve awready shat oan her.  She obviously hisnae learned a thing.”

  “Look, Ah’ll try and raise it wae Alison o’er the weekend, bit Ah’m no sure she’ll go fur it, despite saying she’d love the opportunity tae put her side ae the story oot withoot aw the shite attached tae it.”

  “Well, the column goes oot oan Wednesday.  It wid hiv tae be done and dusted by Tuesday efternoon tae make it intae the early edition that hits the pubs late oan Tuesday night.  Whit dae ye think?”

  “Ah’m working oan Sunday, so, whitever happens, Ah’ll let ye know oan Sunday night.  If she says naw, then that’s it.”

  “That sounds good enough tae me, Senga.  So, did ye think Johnboy wis serious when he said he wis awready taken then?” Pearl asked, taking a sip ae her lager and lime, while looking towards the bar, where Johnboy wis staunin laughing wae the rest ae The Mankys at something Snappy Johnston hid jist said.