by Ian Todd
“Look, fur your information, Ah’ve done nothing tae deserve yer unwarranted accusations, so Ah hivnae. Ah’m jist a…a…an innocent abroad,” he growled, as she laughed.
“Ah’m sorry, Johnboy. An innocent abroad? Whit book did that drap oot ae?”
“Right, that’s it. See you? Ye’re gonnae come across as a right fucking bag in that book ae mine, so ye ur. Everywan will know who Ah’m referring tae as well.”
“Aye, aye, so ye keep telling me. When will that be? The year dot?”
“Don’t sit there getting catty wae me, Nurse Jackson. Ah’m a good bit intae it noo, then we’ll see who’s laughing and taking the piss. Right, ur ye finished wae they bits a fish skin and bones. Mr Hopkins is waiting.”
“Will the bones no get stuck in his throat or something?” she wondered, looking doon at the demented cat wandering aboot under the table howling.
“He’s a cat, no the Queen Mother. Ah’m sure he’ll cope,” Johnboy replied, scooping their leftovers fae the plates intae the cat’s bowl and putting it doon oan tae the flair.
“So, the lovely fish?” she asked.
He telt her aboot the discovery at the door, as she sat there wae her eyes widening, turning a bit peely-wally.
“Oh my God, Johnboy. Ah think Ah’m gonnae be sick, so Ah am.”
“Naw, ye’re no,” he scoffed dismissively.
“Why did ye no tell me this before Ah ate it?” she whined at him.
“Because Ah knew fine well that ye widnae touch it. That’s why.”
“Ah cannae believe you. Why wid somewan who wants tae kill ye gie ye two fishes unless it wis poisoned?”
“Because it wis obvious a peace offering, that’s why?”
“A peace offering? Oh my God! A peace offering, he says,” she wailed tae the hippies in his original Woodstock poster, hinging up oan the wall oan the other side ae the room, starting tae sound hysterical.
“Fur fuck’s sake, Senga. Ah’m telling ye, that fish jist came oot ae the water this morning, so it did. Tony telt me wance that if ye kin smell the fish before it’s cooked, it isnae fresh. That fish wis as fresh as the daisies, so it wis.”
“Tony says? Oh my God! It disnae matter where Ah go or roam, that bloody guy always pops up and upsets me,” she girned.
“That sounds like wan ae they auld chookter shortbread biscuit tin songs, so it dis…like roaming in the gloaming, wae a lassie by ma side,” he sang, as she burst oot laughing.
“It’s no funny.”
“Aye, it is. Look, believe you me, Senga, Ah washed that fish. There’s no way there wis anything wrang wae it. Ah’m telling ye, it wis a peace offering. His arse probably collapsed efter getting hassled by PC Jimmy Hill’s wee brother and is scared Ah’m gonnae get him done fur attempting tae murder me wae that shotgun ae his,” Johnboy laughed.
“Jimmy Hill?”
“The fitba guy fae the telly wae the long chin.”
“Who?”
“Anyway, fuck him and his peace offering. If Ah catch that basturt snooping aboot here, then Ah’m gonnae set Mr Hopkins oan him, the same as he did wae that flea-bitten collie dug ae his.”
“Talking ae which, did ye worm and apply the flea juice tae Mr Hopkins that Ah picked up fae the vet?”
“Of course. That’ll be another sign. If Mr Hopkins is lying deid in the morning, ye’ll know ye wur right.”
“Eh?”
“Aboot the fish being poisoned. It’ll kill a cat long before it’ll affect us humans, gieing us time tae get doon tae the local surgery tae get an anecdote fae the local district nurse. Oh, wait a minute. Christ, she won’t be there. She’ll be lying deid up that stairs in ma bed, so she will,” Johnboy guffawed, as he transferred the plates through tae the sink in the kitchen.
“That’s the problem wae you, Johnboy. Ye only really come tae life when there’s a drama oan the go,” she said tae his back, as he aboot turned and looked at her, ready tae hit her wae a wan liner, before the baith ae them laughed o’er the sound ae the guitar riff intro tae ‘Hiv A Cigar,’ the third
track oan Pink Floyds last album, ‘Wish Ye Were Here.’
Chapter Twenty One
“Good morning, children,” the teacher said tae the Primary Seven pupils, the wans who’d aw be heidin tae Dornoch Academy efter the summer holidays.
“Good morning, Miss Ross,” the kids aw sang back in unison, slightly oot ae tune.
“Now, then, this is our new district nurse for Lochinver and Assynt, Nurse Jackson. What do you all say?”
“Good morning, Nurse Jackson,” they aw sang again, that tune no hivving improved much, as Senga tried no tae burst oot wae nervous laughter.
“And good morning tae each and everywan ae youse,” Senga sang back, wondering if any ae them hid a clue whit wis in store fur them, starting within the next few minutes.
She’d asked Liz Ross, the teacher, if she’d prepared the victims in advance efter she’d arrived jist before nine o’clock.
“Advance...for what?” Liz hid asked her.
“Ah sent oot a wee guidance note that Ah’d prepared fur the teachers in the district. Did ye no receive it, Liz…whit?” she’d asked, o’er the sound ae the chuckle.
“Senga, I don’t know how to say this without upsetting you, but none of the pupils would’ve turned up in the class this morning if I’d explained why you were coming,” she’d replied.
“That bad?” she’d asked, sounding disappointed, as the baith ae them laughed.
“Now then, boys and girls, Nurse Jackson will explain to you all why she’s here,” Miss Ross announced, turning tae Senga, wae a sweet devilish smile oan her face, before turning back tae the upturned faces ae the eleven and twelve year aulds. “I want you all to listen very attentively, as the information she wants to share with us, is very important. Miss Jackson?”
“Thank you, Miss Ross. Now then, children, put up yer hauns if any ae ye hiv heard ae the BCG vaccine? None ae ye? Right. So, has anywan ever heard ae tuberculosis or TB, as it’s commonly known? No. Right. If ye wur tae ask yer big sisters or brothers, then Ah’m sure that they’d be able tae tell ye aw aboot it, bit since they urnae here the day, it’s up tae me. Every school pupil between the ages ae ten and fourteen living in Scotland receive a wee jab tae stoap them fae catching TB, which is a nasty wee bacteria that makes people really ill. However, the beauty ae the vaccine is that wance ye receive it, that’s you. Ye need never worry about TB ever again. Amazing, eh? Any questions so far?”
Silence.
“Right, then…tae receive the vaccine, I’m gonnae gie each and every wan ae youse a tiny wee jab wae a needle oan the tap ae yer left erm,” she said, tapping the tap ae the target area oan her left erm wae two fingers, searching the faces fur any signs ae disruption in the ranks, efter that wee disclosure.
So far, so good. Efter gieing whit she’d said time tae sink in and wondering who Angus MacKenzie wis amongst them, hivving been identified earlier by Miss Ross as being the toughest boy in the school, she carried oan.
“Any questions?” she asked again, as a wave ae alarm flashed across the majority ae the faces sitting there looking wide eyed at her. “Aye hen?” she asked, trying tae keep the sound ae disappointment oot ae her voice, as the face ae a wee red heided angel hesitantly raised her erm.
“Will…will er, the jab hurt, miss?” the nervous voice quavered.
Will the jab hurt? She bloody hated that question. It wis always the first wan oot ae the bag. ‘Of course, it’ll bloody hurt, bit no as much as it’ll hurt me hivving tae administer it tae youse, feeling like some mad executioner oot oan her first gig,’ she’d wanted tae say, followed by, ‘And if ye think that’s bad, ye want tae see the blister youse’ll aw end up scarred fur life wae, when ye wake up the morra morning.’
“Will the jab hurt?” she tittered unconvincingly, sounding like the right lying toad that she knew she wis, looking up towards Miss Ross, staunin up at the back ae the classroom, who’d jist pulled a stricken e
xpression oan her face while drawing a finger across her throat. “Ye’ll jist feel a wee prick initially and that’ll be that. The morra morning when ye wake up, it’ll probably feel a wee bit hard and lumpy, bit don’t worry, it’ll soon settle doon. And remember, none ae youse will ever end up getting TB like they used tae, way back in yer granny and granda’s day. Any other questions? Naw? Good. So, whit will happen noo is that Miss Ross will call oot yer names, wan by wan. I’ll be sitting in Miss Mackenzie’s office across the corridor there, waiting fur youse. Is that okay?”
Silence.
“Oh, aye, in case Ah furget, Ah’ve brought a big bag ae gobstoppers wae me that Miss Ross says ye kin aw sook in the class up tae lunch time,” she informed them, beating a hasty retreat tae the heid teacher’s office while the gaun wis good.
She sat waiting fur the first victim, wondering who wis the maist nervous, her or the pupils. She hated inflicting pain, even if it wis justified and fur a good cause. She’d goat tae the stage back in The Royal where she couldnae stand working in casualty. The screams ae the victims wheeled in, as a result ae accidents or worse, like the victims ae murderous assaults by gang members oan a daily basis, wid probably remain wae her fur the rest ae her life. It wis hard tae explain that feeling tae people, particularly those that didnae work in the medical profession, who thought that because ye wur a nurse, ye wurnae supposed tae hiv the same feelings ae revulsion as everywan else oot there oan the street. Despite trying tae explain it, she never believed that she’d ever really goat through tae Johnboy aboot the trauma inflicted oan nurses and doctors who hid tae deal wae whit wis wheeled through the reception, day efter day. When she thought aboot it, which admittedly she didnae very often, she supposed her and Johnboy wur fae opposite sides ae the same coin. Him and his pals being the inflictors and her and her pals in the casualty department ae The Royal, being the repairers. She still sometimes struggled tae come tae terms wae the fact that the man she loved hid almost certainly participated in God knows whit o’er the years. Also, when she thought aboot it, which again thankfully wisnae too often, her choice ae man didnae appear tae make sense fur somewan in her line ae work. Who wid’ve thought that she wid’ve ended up wae somewan who’d most certainly participated and inflicted violence oan people? The fact that he casually went aboot his daily business, acting normal, like everywan else walking doon the street, never ceased tae raise doubts aboot him in the back ae her mind. How could he dae that? It wis still hard fur her tae get her heid aroond that wan and tae come tae terms wae that fact. Hid she been deliberately blind, as some ae the lassies back in the toon accused her ae?
“He is whit he is, jist like the rest ae them, Senga, hen,” Michelle Hope hid challenged her wan night, as the others hid sat and nodded in agreement. “Despite whit ye believe, Leopards cannae change their spots, even if they wanted tae.”
Of course, she hidnae taken it lying doon. Her argument hid been that he wis young, he didnae realise the damage he’d inflicted oan people’s lives, he only hurt people who wur wanting tae dae the same tae him, he’s remorseful, he’s no like the rest ae The Mankys…she’d come back at them, as they’d sat there, no hiding the cynical pity in their eyes at the deluded, loved-up crackpot sitting in amongst them. Christ, even Pearl, who probably loved Johnboy jist as much as she did, hid worn the look. Admittedly, there hid always been self-doubts every noo and again in her ain heid, bit she’d never regretted fighting fur him. Despite the recent arguments between them, he’d been worth the sacrifice. He wisnae like Tony Gucci, Simon Epstein and the others…bit then again, wis that her still making excuses tae justify her blind devotion fur her ain self-preservation?
“Well, wance ye make yer ain bed, then ye’ll hiv tae lie in it. Don’t come running tae me when ye discover he’s been cheating oan ye…like before,” her ma hid warned her efter being informed that she wis moving intae Johnboy’s flat oan a permanent basis, jist efter the New Year.
Whit her da hid thought aboot the announcement, she’d probably never know. He left that kind ae drama tae her ma tae sort oot. She’d known fine well that as long as her and Johnboy lived in the toon, their relationship wis doomed. No because ae other wummin, as her ma hid insinuated though. Tony Gucci wid’ve seen tae that. She’d always believed that Johnboy’s rehabilitation wid only really start wance they wur oot ae the cauldron that surrounded The Mankys. Noo that they’d been away fur o’er three months, withoot any past connections hinging aboot tae interfere and influence him, she could at last see whit she hid tae deal wae. Tae her, he wis brilliant, funny, caring and kind. Sometimes it wis hard tae take in whit she wis seeing when she came in at night fae her work…him actually sitting there, clumsily battering away at the typewriter wae they two fingers ae his. If only the lassies…and The Mankys could witness that, then maybe they’d change their minds aboot they so-called leopard’s spots ae his. He could be a bit ae a bugger when he wanted tae. He claimed that it wis a book he wis writing…a love story, bit naw, he didnae want her tae see or read it until the first draft wis finished. Why? Wis that because he wis scared that she’d maybe get annoyed wae him, if she didnae agree wae whit he wis writing aboot her?
“Who says it’s aboot you? Ah never claimed that you’d be in it,” he’d said tae her mair than a few times.
Oh my God. Whit if it wis jist lists ae songs fae his record collection that he wis typing? She’d never thought ae that wan. He wis always saying that he wanted tae catalogue aw his albums. Nah, he wid know fine well that sooner or later, he’d hiv tae show her something. Johnboy Taylor, writing a love story? Christ, she found that wan hard tae get her heid roond. Whit did he know aboot love…in the boy and girl sense? She jist couldnae come tae terms wae that wan.
“So, is it pretty sordid then?” she’d asked, efter they’d made passionate love a few weeks earlier.
“Sordid? Whit the fuck dis sordid mean?” he’d asked her in the dark, as she tried tae see his face, tae see if he wis taking the piss.
“Y’know…full ae juicy bits,” she’d replied, before the pair ae them hid lain there giggling away fur aboot five minutes.
“Ye mean plenty ae shagging?” he’d finally asked.
The challenge fur her, as she saw it, wis that noo that she’d cut him aff fae the herd, how wis she tae work oan him withoot it being too obvious? Whether he accepted it or no, he needed encouragement and support. The key wis tae try and break that attitude ae his towards authority. She didnae want tae end up wae a bitter and twisted man like Alf Garnett. She couldnae stand negativity. She accepted that she wisnae his mother, poor Helen, bit even she wid’ve agreed that, left tae his ain devices, Johnboy could be a bad influence oan himsel. She’d recently decided that they’d break oot, try and branch oot and meet new people…no the usual gangster types he wis used tae, bit nice people. Her opposite number, Dolina Moffat, who covered South Assynt, hid said oan mair than a few occasions that she’d like tae get her and Johnboy across fur a meal wan night. Dolina said that there wis a lovely wee group ae them, who aw went oot fur walks and hid meals roond at each other’s hooses oan a Saturday night. Only a few weeks earlier, she’d jist been aboot tae agree tae an invite, when Dolina hid mentioned that wan ae the crowd wis a social worker. That hid been that. She wisnae ashamed ae Johnboy. It wis jist that attitude ae his towards authority figures or people he believed hid done something tae him, that always made her nervous. At the time ae the invite, she’d goat cauld feet and hid backed aff, realising that she’d maybe been moving too fast. They goat oan great wae each other, bit hid recently hid two blistering fights that hid nearly brought the ceiling doon oan them. The first wan hid been efter she’d arrived hame and he’d mentioned that some polisman hid turned up at the hoose.
“Some poxy bizzy turned up here the day,” he’d spat.
“Well, Ah hope ye didnae upset him wae that anti-social attitude ae yours. Ah’ve goat tae live and work aboot here, so Ah hiv,” she’d made the mistake ae retorting.
Mistake numbe
r wan.
“Well, if you’d kept yer bloody mooth shut aboot that auld badger across in that caravan park pulling a shotgun oot oan me, then Ah widnae hiv been put in the position ae upsetting the bumbling prick, noo wid Ah?” he’d hit her wae.
Mistake number two.
“Oh my God, please don’t tell me that ye did, Johnboy?” she’d blurted oot, sounding horrified, kicking aff World War Three.
At first she couldnae remember hivving mentioned the shotgun incident tae Ishbel MacKenzie, the receptionist at the surgery. Of course, she’d denied it, then hid been forced tae admit it, wance she’d remembered, bit by then it hid been too late. They’d argued fur aboot a hauf an hour, him yelling at her that whit wis said between them wis their business. Her response being that he wisnae in Glesga noo and that she refused tae live a parallel life where she hid tae watch her Ps and Qs oan whit she said. He’d accused her ae being a gossipy sweetie wife and she’d shocked hersel by throwing a cup at him, missing his heid by an inch, before it smashed wan ae his good Beatles framed posters, before she stomped aff tae her bed. So much fur her claiming that aw violence wis unacceptable. That wis efter she’d challenged him aboot his attitude towards the polis.
“Look, ye’re no back in the toon noo. This is different…we’re different. Ye don’t hiv tae be anti this or anti that. The polis ur there tae serve the community…that’s you and me, by the way. So, Ishbel contacted the polis? Whit’s wrang wae that? That’s whit decent people dae when there’s a crime committed in the neighborhood. The quicker you accept that, then the quicker we kin get oan wae oor lives. It’s no as if she …or me, committed the crime ae the century, is it?”
“Listen, let’s get wan thing straight here, Senga. Don’t you ever repeat anything Ah tell ye tae anywan ootside ae this hoose or Ah’m oot that fucking door. Ah’m up here tae get away fae they basturts, no invite them in fur a cup ae tea,” he’d snarled. “Oh, and by the way, ye better get any thoughts ae buying this place oot ae that fucking heid ae yours while ye’re at it.”
