by Ian Todd
“Ah hope ye’re no thinking ae choosing the PPK-L?” Simon hid grumbled, as Tony and him hid smiled at each other, efter he’d picked it up fae the selection. “Whit the fuck’s wrang wae the AMT four? That’s an automatic, so it is.”
“Magnum? Too heavy. This’ll dae the trick. And anyway, hopefully it’ll never be needed,” he’d replied, as Simon hid gied him a wee playful skelp oan the side ae the heid.
When aw the carry oan hid started tae heat up between The Mankys and The McGregors, roond aboot the time Senga hid moved intae the flat across oan Otago Street, he’d asked Tony fur a gun as a bit ae insurance. He’d known that Simon wid object at his choice. The wan he wis haudin in his haun, wis lighter than the Magnum and a lot lighter than the other two standard steel PPKs that hid been sitting there. The PPK-L hid an aluminium alloy frame. Other than the weight differential and the reduced size ae the bullets, due tae the heavier recoil fae the lighter gun when fired, the end results basically hid the same deadly outcome. Aw the PPKs looked the same wae their broon handle grips and highly polished blue finish, lanyard loop and loaded chamber indicator. It wisnae only Simon’s favourite either. Maist ae The Mankys, apart fae Ben, always hid a few ae them stashed away. He lay the gun doon and lifted the cover aff the wee cardboard box containing the cleaning kit. He’d start wae the gun itsel before emptying the magazines.
Chapter Sixteen
Robert Hamilton, The Laird ae Lochinver, stood back and surveyed the scene before him. Even he wis impressed, and that wis saying something. The only irritation wis the stage. He couldnae see why the band, The Oyster Catchers, couldnae hiv set up efter he’d completed the question and answer session efter his presentation. He didnae want tae gie the impression that he wis some sort ae idiotic compere fur the evening’s entertainment. That wid be Heckie’s job.
“The dance starts at seven, sir,” Heckie MacLeod hid reminded him. “The band said they would need at least half an hour to set up and do a sound check. That gives you half an hour to deliver your spin, sir.”
Spin? He supposed that’s whit it wis, even though he resented the implication. He liked tae think it wis consultation, inclusion, partnership…taking the community wae him oan the next step ae the journey that lead tae paradise…fur him and his family. Ah mean, he didnae hiv tae dae any ae this nonsense, he reminded himsel. There wid’ve been easier ways, bit he wanted tae leave nothing tae chance. And anyway, if his charm and tactics could fool the hard-nosed sharks ae the business world in a place like Glesga, then the night’s offerings wid be like a pleasant stroll alang Loch Culag. Where else wid ye find somewan as willing as him tae open up and discuss his plans fur everywan’s future? His long term strategy wis coming tae its natural conclusion. Six years ae cultivation, gaining people’s trust, investing in his family’s future and noo ground zero wis fast approaching. Efter that, they could aw go and jump in The Minch, fur aw he cared. Despite trying tae slow doon ever so slightly o’er the past few years, he wis still restless. Nowan hid tae tell him that life wis too short. He wanted tae enjoy whit wis left ae it and at last, the orchard wis aboot tae bear him some fruit. Obviously, there wid never be enough fur a greedy so and so like him. He blamed his father fur that. While his school friends hid goat aw the latest toys at Christmas when they wur young, he’d received pieces ae paper that announced tae everywan that whit he wis playing wae oan the carpeted living room flair wis stocks and bonds. His original projected Highland master plan hid initially been fur three years, efter he’d been at the helm ae managing the biggest honeypot ae untraceable tax-free funds in the West ae Scotland, fur the previous six years. Times hid been changing oan the political front and successive governments hid started tae take accountability ae public funds seriously fur a change. It hid been time tae look at taking some rear-guard action that wid eventually lead tae a well-earned retirement wae the family. His initial local investment hid started oot in the form ae a holiday home ten years previously. That wis until he realised the potential ae the place. He’d hid tae extend his original three-year plan tae six, due tae the few unexpected resisters that hid suddenly popped their heids up oot ae the warren holes. That hid meant his carefully crafted budget hid increased substantially, bit the prize waiting at the end ae the rainbow wid mair than compensate fur that wee hiccup. He wis nearly there, he kept telling himsel…nearly there.
Chapter Seventeen
“Senga! Senga! Quick,” Johnboy shouted excitedly, jumping up oot ae the auld faded deckchair. “Hurry!”
“Whit?” Senga panted, appearing oot ae the door, drying her hauns oan her pinny, a startled look oan her face.
“The eagle…he’s back. Look,” he shouted, pointing up beyond the shed roof. “Ah telt ye it widnae hiv gone far, bit ye widnae believe me.”
“Ur ye sure?” she asked, no able tae hide her disappointment, shielding her eyes wae her haun fae the sun, thinking ae the cost ae the last vet’s bill.
“Wance seen, never furgotten. Look at the spread ae they wings ae his.”
Silence.
“You telt me that it hid a seven feet wingspan.”
“It his, ya bloody blind bat, ye.”
“Okay, where’s the cat? We’ll need tae keep him in the hoose fur a while.”
“Did ye hear that, Mr Hopkins? She wants ye grounded, so she dis,” he turned and shouted, as the cat slid, paws first, doon the side ae the red brick wall ae the shed before running across and grabbing her deckchair.
“Aye, well, Ah widnae get too comfortable there. Ah’ll be back in a minute, so Ah will,” she warned Mr Hopkins, as she disappeared and returned wae a couple ae mugs ae tea in her hauns.
“Nae biscuits?”
“So, whit dae ye think then?” she asked him, turning tae peer doon the empty track, as Mr Hopkins leapt fae her chair oan tae his knees.
“Ah’ve seen worse.”
“Eh?”
“His lug. The vet did say that he’d look strange fur a wee while efter it healed. That split ear is fur life, so it is. Oan the plus side, ye cannae really see the mars bar scar that’s cut across his eyebrow, unless ye’re up close tae his face.”
“Johnboy, Ah’m no oan aboot the bloody cat!” she tut-tutted at him.
“Hoi! Don’t say that in that tone ae voice. He’s no deaf, so he’s no. Ur ye, Mr Hopkins?” Johnboy purred tae him, scratching behind his good ear.
“See you and that bloody cat.”
“Hoi, that bloody cat saved yer life the night the chimney goat blocked wae that sack, remember?”
“Ah’m talking aboot the broon envelope…the letter fae Angelina MacLeod? It wis sitting behind the letter box fur nearly a week.”
“Well if ye’d stoap hinging shite up behind the door Ah wid’ve clocked it.”
“Hey you!” she shouted, clapping her hauns, as the startled bullfinches took flight and the cat turned and gied her a dirty look. “So, whit dae ye think then?”
“Whit dae Ah think? Ah don’t think anything, that’s whit Ah think.”
“Naw, seriously. Whit’s yer thoughts oan the content ae the letter?”
“Ah…Ah don’t know. Ah never really read it properly.”
“Here ye go,” she volunteered, taking the envelope oot ae the pocket ae the pinny, haunin it across tae him.
“Ye’re no seriously considering wanting tae buy this place, ur ye?” he asked, glancing up at her fae the letter.
“No.”
“So, why am Ah reading this then? Whit the hell ur we supposed tae dae wae a hoose, surrounded by sheep shit and ancient boulders embedded in the ground?” he asked her wae a flick ae his haun.
Silence.
“Senga, this place is lovely jist noo, bit jist remember, we arrived at the tail end ae the winter and it wis bad then. Kin ye imagine living here leading up tae Christmas? And then ye’d still hiv January, February and March waiting fur ye efter that. Fuck, we never slept that first fortnight wae the wind hammering aff the windaes, remember?”
“So, Ah
take it that ye’re no interested then?”
“Ah’m jist no sure where ye’re coming fae. It said oan the radio this morning that 1976 wis gonnae be wan ae the hottest summers oan record, so it did. The weather aboot here won’t always be like this.”
“Where Ah’m coming fae is that yesterday, this place wisnae an option. The day, it is. That’s aw Ah’m saying.”
“So, where wid ye find two and a hauf grand fae?”
“Ah’m no sure…we could maybe try fur a loan…a mortgage, maybe?” she replied, doubtfully. “Look, don’t sit there and snort at me, Johnboy Taylor. Maybe if ye goat aff yer bum and found a job, we could maybe try.”
“Don’t start that shite again.”
“Look, Ah’ve…Ah’ve goat jist o’er five hundred pounds in the bank, we could maybe use it as a doon payment.”
“Ye kept that wan quiet, so ye did,” he said, peering o’er the rim ae his cup, taking a sip ae the tea.
“Naw, Ah didnae. Ah telt ye Ah’d been putting a wee bit ae money away since Ah qualified, efter me and Lizzie goat the flat oan Barrington Avenue oan the cheap. Ma ma says The Original Jeely Piece Company ur making money hand over fist, so she gied me two hunner and fifty oan tap ae the two fifty Ah’d saved.”
“Furget it.”
“Why?”
“And another thing, don’t start casting up tae me aboot getting a job. The last time Ah tried that, that auld grizzly basturt fae o’er the hill there threatened tae shoot me, so he did.”
“Ach, don’t exaggerate, Johnboy,” she snorted dismissively, taking a sip ae her tea. “Why dae ye hiv tae make such a big deal oot ae everything? This isnae the wild streets ae Glesga. Look aboot ye.”
“Ye wurnae there.”
“Ah jist think it wid be such an opportunity wae me working and you…”
“Trying tae compete wae Harold Robbins?”
“Naw, he actually puts pen tae paper, even if it is filthy crap.”
“Look, ye know fine well that Ah’ve awready started oan the book wae that contraption ye forced oan me. Okay, it still needs a good bit ae working oan, bit at least Ah’m writing.”
“Johnboy, Ah wis talking tae wan ae the lassies at work…Davidina…”
“Another Ina? Fuck’s sake, whit did they put in the porridge up here back in the day? Ina this, Ina that. Noo Ah know where the word vagina comes fae…the bloody Highlands,” he growled, as she clapped her hauns thegither and laughed.
“Christ, Johnboy, you crack me up, so ye dae,” she hooted, shaking her heid as she bent o’er and picked her mug ae tea up fae the ground beside her. “Anyhow, Davidina said that they’re screaming oot fur sparkies, joiners and…and er, painter and decorators across in Nigg and Invergordon, so they ur…”
“Dae you know where Nigg and Invergordon ur?” he asked, interrupting her.
“Near the east coast somewhere…a couple ae hours away,” she replied wae a wave ae her haun towards the track.
“And how am Ah supposed tae get there and back?”
“She said the companies ur putting oan transport…”
“In the winter?”
“Eh?”
“Look, whit hiv Ah telt ye? Ah’m no a painter and decorator. Ah only did that tae gie masel an easy pass in the jail, so Ah did. It wis a survival tactic.”
“The money’s supposed tae be good.”
“Money isnae everything…”
Silence.
“Whit?” he asked, his contemplation being disturbed by the heavy breathing sitting beside him.
“Fur your information, money is everything, Johnboy. If you wur working…at a real job, we could seriously look at this place, insteid…”
“Ah’ve goat some money.”
“Eh?”
“Compensation…fur being wrongly convicted,” he lied.
“Bit…”
“Aye…Ah meant tae mention it before noo, bit Ah furgoat.”
“When?”
“Jist before we left the toon…an interim payment, Graham called it…until ma claim wis sorted oot.”
“Bit…how much?”
“A couple ae grand.”
“Whit, as in two, three, four?”
“Two.”
“Two?”
“Two and a hauf tae be precise.”
Silence.
“Bit that means we could…”
“Buy this place?”
“Aye.”
“Whit wid ye want tae buy a place like this fur? There’s nothing here, fur fuck’s sake.”
“Johnboy, it’s beautiful…we could dae whit we wanted wae it, so we could. Christ, ye’re even thinking ae taking o’er Angelina’s ma’s wee vegetable patch, so ye ur.”
“Ur you trying tae be funny?”
“No.”
“The hungry slugs and caterpillars scoffed everything that Ah planted in April, remember? Wan night everything wis there and the next morning, the basturts hid scoffed the lot, so they hid.”
“Ah thought you said that ye wurnae a big fan ae green vegetables anyway?”
“That’s no the point.”
“So, whit is the point?”
“Ah’m no convinced.”
“Why?”
“We’ve only been here a few months. Aye, it’s lovely the noo…apart fae Mr Psycho o’er the hill there, bit Ah’m no convinced this is the place fur us…long term, Ah mean,” he added, avoiding acknowledging the huffy scowl appearing oan the face next tae him.
“Why did ye no mention the compensation money before noo?”
“Ah telt ye, Ah’d furgoatten aboot it.”
“Ye furgoat that ye hid two and a half thousand pounds in the bank?”
“Aye.”
“Whit bank?”
“Eh?”
“Ye heard me the first time.”
“Ah don’t know…The British Linen Bank…Graham dealt wae it, so he did.”
“So, where’s the correspondence then?”
“Correspondence?”
“Fae Graham…surely there must’ve been a letter or something.”
“There is…wis…”
“And?”
“It’s probably in wan ae the boxes we took wae us.”
“The boxes? No them again. Christ Johnboy, the way ye keep bringing up aw that stuff ye cannae find, ye’d think ye brought hauf the toon wae ye in cardboard boxes. Ah think it sounds pretty dodgy tae me,” she said, looking across at him, sounding suspicious.
“Okay, Ah robbed a bank before we left the toon. Is that better?”
“Ah don’t believe ye.”
“There’s a surprise,” he muttered.
“Eh?”
“Ah said Ah wis keeping it as a wee surprise…fur us, as a wee nest egg fur times ae emergency.”
“Look, Ah’m no saying that ye need tae make a decision right this minute, bit…”
“Bit?”
“Bit, jist gie it a bit ae thought, eh? This could be us, so it could,” she said, back tae swishing that erm ae hers aboot the place. “In the meantime, hiv ye made up yer mind?” she asked, folding the letter and putting it back in her pocket.
“Aboot buying this place? Ah thought Ah’d jist…”
“Ah meant Lochinver?”
“Whit aboot it?”
“Oh, fur Christ’s sake, Johnboy! You’re worse than the cat. It’s Saturday, remember? We wur gonnae be taking a run doon tae Lochinver tae see the exhibition…the plans oan display…before gaun fur a cup ae tea and a scone?”
Silence.
“Whit?”
“Why kin we no jist stay here and make oor ain scones? Ah’ll gie them a go this time, seeing as yours wur such a success the last time. Fuck, even that big hungry eagle wae the seven feet wingspan gied them a miss, so he did.”
“Get ready, Johnboy,” she laughed, staunin up. “We’re leaving in five minutes. Ah don’t think you’ve been doon that track since we moved in and that wis three months ago.”
“Aye, Ah hiv. Who wis
it that dug Betsy’s wheels oot ae the mud, the second morning ye started yer new job before ye reached The Road Tae Naewhere? Plus, Ah’ve hid a run up tae Clachtoll and back, remember?”
“Three minutes,” she warned him, disappearing intae the hoose wae the empty mugs.
Chapter Eighteen
“Look, Johnboy, why don’t ye jist go in and Ah’ll catch up wae ye in a few minutes?”
“Eh? Ye’ve jist gone and dragged me aw the way doon here against ma will and noo ye’re gieing me a dizzy as soon as we arrive?”
“Look, Ah’m sorry, darling. Ah’ve jist clocked wan ae ma mothers, who gied birth yesterday efternoon. She hid a terrible time ae it. She’s noo bloody well humphing a big wheelbarrow full ae peat up the road, so she is,” Senga replied, sounding concerned, heidin across the street, no hinging aboot tae hear his reaction.
“Bit…”
“Morvina? Wait up,” Senga shouted, skipping between a tractor and a big lorry, rumbling up Culag Road.
“Why, if it isn’t Nurse Jackson? My, that’s a bonny dress you’ve got yourself,” forty two year auld mother ae seven girls, Morvina MacKenzie said, efter letting go ae the handles ae the wooden barrow, flexing her fingers and smiling.
“Morvina…er, how ur ye…how’s the baby?” Senga asked her, trying no tae sound too perplexed.
