The Incredible Rise of a Gorbals Gangster

by Colin MacFarlane

  “That’s a rather large sum of money sir. Are you sure you want to take that amount out in ready cash?” Johnny put on a mild mannered voice, “Aye, its tae cover a wee financial emergency.” “Oh,” the bank teller grimaced, “Nothing serious I hope.” “Nah, just a wee matter that’s a bit personal, if you know what I mean.” He winked at the bank teller, it was a dodgy wink, the kind of wink men use when they are sharing a secret that can’t really be discussed. “Oh, I see,” said the teller but of course he did not wink back. It was strictly against bank protocol to be too familiar with clients, especially one as low class as Johnny.

  “How would you like the money, sir?” the teller said with a slight air of contempt. Johnny detected this immediately but remained calm, “Make it up in fivers and tenners,” he said coolly. The teller showed more disdain, “Fivers and tenners, sir? Are you sure?” The guy was pushing his luck. “Look fatty, shut the fuck up and gi’ me ma money and make it up pronto. Otherwise ah’ll be waiting outside for you when you finish work.” Suddenly the teller looked frightened, the last thing he wanted was a Gorbals gangster waiting for him after his shift.

  All the money in the bank was not worth that. He coughed nervously, “I understand sir, I can put it in a bag for you.” “Aye, dae that and hurry up. I’ve seen snails move faster than you,” Johnny said with a growl. The teller understood he was dealing with a volatile hardcase and decided to limit the conversation from then on. He placed the notes in the bag while coughing nervously. Johnny took the bag and walked off before saying, “Sorry for being a bit touchy but ah’ve got a problem and this cash might just solve it.” “I understand sir,” the teller replied and gave a sigh of relief as Johnny left the bank.

  Images of him leaving work flashed into his mind with a disturbing scene of this young man attacking him with an open razor. His imagination was not all that far from the truth. If he had given Johnny any more insolence he would have been attacked rather viciously by the leader of the Gorbals Cumbie. It was a thought he could not bear to linger on and nervous beads of sweat fell from his head and bounced onto the counter.

  Johnny held onto the bagful of notes and headed towards Lorraine’s tenement in Thistle Street. He had almost got to the close when he noticed from distance her father heading to the pub. It was early evening by his time and he presumed her mother had also headed out for a bingo session. This was an ideal time to strike. Lorraine would be home alone. He walked up the tenement stairs and knocked on the front door. Lorraine opened it up almost immediately. He was taken aback by how beautiful she looked. The pregnancy had put her in full bloom.

  “Johnny it’s you!” she said looking excited, “I was wondering when you were gonnae turn up. Come away in.” The house was clean yet comparatively shabby compared to Johnny’s own abode. As far as he knew her father had never been out of work over the years. He did not have a spectacular wage as a fish porter but it should have given him a far more comfortable habitat than this shabby hovel. The problem was Lorraine’s father was used to “pishing his wages up the wa’” which left his family in abject poverty.

  “Dae ye fancy a cup of tea?” Lorraine said in a soft voice. “Aye doll, strong, dash of milk, two sugars.” She made the tea and handed it to him. They sat down at the kitchen table facing each other. “We’ve got a lot tae talk about,” she said. “Oh aye, like what? Johnny replied as he sipped his tea. “Well things like what we are gonnae call our baby, when we’re gonnae get married and where we’re gonnae live Ma da says we could live here for a while until we get settled.” The conglomeration of ideas repulsed him. Living in this hovel with a wife and baby he did not want! She had to be fucking joking. There was as much chance of that happening as seeing the Pope and King Billy at a Celtic and Rangers match.

  “Lorraine, doll, there’s something ah’ve got tae tell ye” he said. She could detect nervousness and insincerity in his voice. “Oh aye, and what’s that then?” Johnny had never stuttered in his life but now he felt like a jabbering idiot, “Well…well it’s just ah …ah’m promised tae another woman. We’re engaged and ah cannae get oot of it.” Lorraine’s face drained of blood. She had a beautiful face but the mouth of a sewer, “What the fuck dae ye mean your engaged Johnny? We’ve got a baby on the way and you’ve got tae get married tae me. No’ some whore you met at the dancing.” She was no longer in a beautiful bloom and suddenly looked like a pale skeleton.

  “Who is this whore?” she shouted. He felt rattled, “Naebody you know but we were seeing each other when you and me had a wee dalliance behind the Railway Club. “Well Johnny,” she shouted as tears fell down her cheeks, “You’d better tell her tae get tae fuck, you’re ma man and ah’m pregnant wi’ your fucking baby.” Johnny felt like a baby himself, he was helpless in this situation. Gang fights he could handle but not the wrath of a jilted woman. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

  “Look Lorraine, ah’m sorry but she’s pregnant as well and ah’ve promised tae marry her.” She began shrieking, “Promised tae marry her! Promised tae marry her! Ya dirty bastard ye. Ma da says you are a two-faced no user and he was right.” Suddenly she picked up a breadknife and lunged towards him shouting, “If ah cannae have ye nae one will!” He realised his life was in danger but his quick reflexes and gangland experience meant he was able knock the breadknife to the floor. Lorraine began to wail, “Ah’ll’ kill ye, ya bastard ye. You’ve stabbed me in the back for a whore!” He tried to reason with her, “Nah it’s no’ like that Lorraine.” The next line that came out of his mouth was a blatant lie. “Look ah love you and our baby when it comes. Maybe one day we can get together but not now.”

  He placed the bank bag on the kitchen table, “There’s 500 quid in there and that should see you and the baby right for a while.” She grabbed the bag and threw it across the kitchen. It sort of exploded and hundreds of notes cascaded across the room. “Ah don’t want your filthy dirty rotten money,” she cried, “Ah want is you Johnny. Ah want us tae be together. Money means fuck all compared tae that.” She looked a pathetic sight, as if she was clutching at straws.

  Johnny was dumbfounded. He had never seen a woman looking so hurt. In many ways it horrified him and a strange thought came into his head. How could a Catholic man treat a woman like this? The thought began to torture him, “Ah’ll always be around tae see you and the baby. But for now, there’s nothing ah can dae.” She picked up a cup and threw it at him. It smashed on the wall behind his head,” You are a dirty Judas bastard, you are gonnae pay for this in more ways than one. You swine!”

  For the first time in his life Johnny felt defeated. He felt crushed inside. It was a worse feeling then when the giant machines chased him in his nightmares. This was a living nightmare and the very thought of him settling down with this madwoman and a baby would be a lifelong nightmare, every second, every minute, every hour of the day. He had to make excuses and leave. What came out of his mouth surprised him, “Ah’m sorry, that’s the way it is. Take the money and look after the baby. You can buy it new clothes and a new pram.”

  She shouted back, “Fuck the clothes and the pram and fuck you!” She picked up a pile of dishes and began to throw them at him. Johnny felt cowardly. How could he lead a gang of guys into battle but shit himself when faced with a jilted woman? He rushed out of the kitchen to the front door. She picked up a pile of notes and threw them towards him, “Take your fucking money and stuff it up your fat arse.” He rushed out of the door, ran down the tenement stair and down to the street. There is no greater feeling than escaping the wrath of an angry woman.

  Suddenly he saw Lorraine’s father coming towards him. He was half cut and looked like he had been out all day in the bevvy. “Ah Johnny boy, ma future son in law. Have ye just been up tae see Lorraine and sorted yourselves oot?” Johnny gulped nervously, “Aye we had a good blether and everything is sorted.”

  “Oh that’s good son, can’t wait until ye become a member of the family!” Johnny put on a furtive grin and said rather u
nconvincingly, “Neither can ah pal.” The fish porter put out his hand, “Shake hands on it son. Ah’m looking forward tae becoming a grandfather.” Johnny shook his hand rather weakly saying, “Yeah, you’re gonnae be a great grandpaw.” He left the fish porter on the best of terms. Lorraine’s father had one of the biggest grins he had ever seen in a man. Sure, he was pleased as punch to be a grandfather. Perhaps it was meant to be his only great achievement in life. Johnny walked back to his tenement in Crown Street feeling shrivelled inside. But he consoled himself with the thought that the love of Cathy was waiting for him. Surely Lorraine’s pain of rejection would disappear? Or would there be more trouble on the horizon? Only time would tell.

  Chapter 42

  PLANS

  On a cold brisk winter’s evening, Johnny walked towards Cathy’s house in the high flats. Perhaps her mother and father would be there also so they could all sort out the future marital plans together. He took the lift up to the third floor and walked along the corridor to Cathy’s flat. It impressed him how clean the corridor was and the smell of disinfectant lingered heavily in the air. It signified those who lived in such flats were very house proud and looked after their environment. It was a sort of contradiction to many of those who lived in the crumbling slums nearby with rats swarming about the place.

  When he went into such tenements, the smell of pish and shite could almost be unbearable, especially on a hot summer’s day. He also noticed that the high flats, like this one, were devoid of the lobby dossers who kipped in the tenements. The highly disinfected environment of the high rises and their house proud tenants probably kept them away. He knocked on Cathy’s door and she opened it up almost immediately, kissing him on the cheek, “Oh, acome in we’ve been waiting for you tae arrive,” she said in an excited tone. He went into the living room and stared briefly out of the window. Cathy’s mother was there sitting at a table in the main living room.

  The place was immaculate by Gorbals standards. Very well furnished and it did not have the obligatory crying lady on the wall. There were some sandwiches and a pot of tea on the table accompanied by biscuits and cakes. This signified that he had been invited to an important occasion. An occasion that would ultimately lead to his marriage to Cathy. Johnny was surprised though not to find her father present. “Oh,” Cathy’s mother explained, “He’s had tae go out and dae a wee bit of business wi’ a couple of his pals.”

  Johnny presumed what the business would be, dodgy business, but kept his trap shut.

  They talked about inconsequential things, general chit chat, but after a while her mother tired of it all and asked him, “Right son, when are ye gonnae make an honest women out of ma daughter?” Cathy chimed in, “We’ve tae get it out the way before the baby arrives.” He had no real plans, but unlike the Lorraine situation he knew he had to marry Cathy. It was written in the stars.

  He took a bite of his ham sandwich and said, “You two decide, ah’ve always said that women are the best organisers.” “Too right son,” her mother said sipping her tea, “Ah think because of the circumstances, the pregnancy and aw that, it should be a low key affair” Cathy butted in, “But ma, ah wanted a big white wedding wi’ a reception tae match. Ah know it would cost a lot of money but cost disnae matter on the big day.” Her mother nodded in agreement but said, “If ye hidnae been pregnant you would have had a big white wedding. Your father isnae short o’ a bob or two. But we’ve got tae keep it low profile, if ye know what ah mean.”

  “Me and your father think its best tae have a wee wedding, fifty guests or so, and a reception in the local pub.” Cathy had a grimace on her face but she realised her mother and father were in a quandary. There was still, even in the 1970s, a certain amount of shame in being a pregnant bride.

  She proposed they got married in St Luke’s Church in Ballater Street and there would be a small reception in the Star bar in Eglinton Toll, two places Johnny knew well. The bar had a juke box in the lounge and a buffet would be laid on, sandwiches, sausage rolls, crisps and all that palaver. They would also hire a singer with a guitar.

  Johnny had misgivings about such marriage plans, but outwardly he agreed, it was best to go with the flow. He agreed, “You’re right, missus. Maybe it’s better if we keep it a wee bit low profile.” He was playing a shrewd game again. He knew that keeping it low profile might not get to jilted Lorraine and her fishy father.

  Cathy sighed, “There goes ma dream of a big white wedding, it’s aw gone up in smoke.” Her mother gave a violent stare, “It was you who was the stupid cow that got pregnant, after aw ah told you. Men are after only one thing and once they get that they don’t want tae know.” Johnny said nothing, he had learnt from an early age when two Gorbals women have an argument, never intervene. Even the local police avoided such domestic disputes.

  Cathy suddenly relented and agreed with her mother, “Ah suppose you’re right, ah was a silly cow tae get pregnant but at least ah’ve got Johnny and the baby, that’ s all that matters.” Johnny had to be diplomatic and nodded his head in feeble agreement. He then chirped up, “How much is it gonnae cost? Ah’ve got a few quid hidden away in the bank. Kept it for a rainy day like this.” Cathy’s mother replied, “Ma man has got more than enough tae pay for it all. So don’t worry, you won’t have tae spend a penny.” Cathy gave a broad smile towards her mother and asked an important question, “Where are we gonnae stay wi’ our baby, ma?”

  Her mother was quick to reply, “Your father has sorted it all out. He knows a guy in the Corporation Housing Department. He gave him a bung tae get ye a flat just along the corridor. The auld woman who lived there has just died and it’s immaculate, a perfect home for you, Johnny and the baby.” Cathy looked pleased, “Ah widnae want ma baby being brought up in a dirty slum wi’ aw those rats running about.”

  So, over the tea and sandwiches, the matter had been resolved in an old fashioned Gorbals way. “Any questions Johnny?” her mother asked. “Nah, missus , it sounds great tae me. One thing though, ah’ll have tae get a proper job now what ah’m settling down.” She replied, “Don’t worry about that son. Ma man says you can join his firm.” Johnny felt a tight knot in his stomach but pretended he was agreeable to such employment prospects

  But he thought he did not really want to be an enforcer, a hardman and thug for Cathy’s father.

  It was a tempting prospect but there was a chance if he took up such an offer he might spend a lot of time in jail. It was a matter he would have to consider carefully. For a few minutes he had an epiphany, he visualised the wedding and the 50 guests who would turn up. All the usual Gorbals suspects. In his mind he clearly saw Malky as his best man. So that was it, sorted. He would ask Malky when he saw him next. Of course, Malky, being a bit of a show off would be delighted. Right up his street. He was made for such a role! Johnny left the women in good cheer. He walked along the corridor to the lift and there were two teenagers standing there, one was writing obscene graffiti with an ink marker on the wall. He shouted, “Hey, what the hell are you doing? Fuck off somewhere else, ya wankers.“

  He did not recognise the boys, they must have been from outside the area and visiting relatives in the flats. One of the boys, aged about 15, pulled out an open razor and waved it towards him. He shouted, “Who the fuck are you? We can dae what we want, so you fuck off or you’ll get this!”

  Johnny lunged at him kicking him swiftly in the balls. He then head butted the other young guy. Johnny picked up the open razor and stuck it inside his pocket. He shouted to the injured teenagers, “If ah see you again ah’ll fucking kill you….ah’ll slash you to fuck. Cumbie ya bass!”

  The lift took him down to ground level. He saw a large black car parked nearby. Inside was Cathy’s father Bobby and two men. Bobby beckoned him over and said through an open window, “Jump inside son.” He got into the car and there was a solemn look about the men. Bobby said, “So how did your meeting go Johnny? You still going ahead with the wedding and all that jazz?”

  “Ay
e Bobby, too right, Ah’ m really looking forward tae marrying Cathy and being your son in law.”

  Suddenly the solemn mood lifted and everyone seemed jovial. Cathy’s’ father laughed, “Just the answer ah wanted tae hear son. Because if it went the other way, we were all prepared, weren’t we boys?” The two men, one with a broken nose and another with a scar, said in unison, “That’s right boss!” The guy with the broken nose suddenly produced a shotgun. Cathy’s father said, “You could say it’s a shotgun wedding. You would have been shot if you gave the wrong answer.”

  The whole thing was absurd. But then again what was not absurd about living in the Gorbals? Even Albert Einstein would have been hard pressed to work that one out.

  Chapter 43

  RAVE ON

  The course of love never runs smoothly, neither does the preparations for marriage. Johnny’s priorities were (a) get a best man (b) get a suit (c) get a job. Getting a best man was a mere formality and when he asked his best pal, Malky, he leapt in the air with joy, “Oh ya beauty, ye,” he shouted. He was a natural public performer and was not afraid to give speeches, especially at weddings and funerals. He was also a passable singer, his favourite being Buddy Holly’s Rave On. With Malky on board, Johnny had really knocked it off. In Malky he also had a natural raconteur and comedian. He was a man of many talents, a man of many traits, but unfortunately, a master of none.