McDonald continued, “I have also been told you assaulted our forklift driver, Tam, when I was off.” Johnny leered at him, “Too right, that orange, shitey, fat bastard deserved it.” McDonald shook his head and tut-tutted, “Well you have given me no choice but to terminate your employment here.” He handed Johnny a light pay packet, “Here’s what we owe you for today and I wish you all the best for the future.” They did not shake hands and Johnny left clutching the pay packet saying, “Thank fuck for that!” Still in his overalls and working boots, he headed back to the Gorbals. He did not want to give the game away by going back to the house and meeting Cathy, who would be upset at his sacking. Instead he went into the Mally Arms and found his pals Alex and Chris there. They were flush with cash. Alex told him they had pick-pocketed a drunk Irish labourer the night before who had a few quid in his donkey jacket. Johnny was glad to be with is old pals. Birds of a feather flock together!
He told them about his exploits at the sawmills. Chris said, “You’re well out of there, let the slaves dae that work. You were made for bigger and better things.” Alex chimed in, “Ah’ll tell you what Johnny, dae you want me tae break into the sawmills tonight and set the whole fucking place on fire?”
Johnny laughed knowing the offer was genuine. If he wanted, Alex would burn the place to the ground with hundreds of people losing their jobs. Alex continued, “Wi’ aw that wood it’ll be the biggest fucking fire Glasgow has ever seen!” A cheered up Johnny bought Alex and Chris a round of drinks from his final, meagre pay-packet saying, “Nah let it be, fuck them. They are not even worth the price of a match. Keep your matches for your birthday cake.”
Chapter 49
DECEIT
He arrived back at the house smelling heavily of booze. Cathy looked at him as he was slightly swaying, “Have you been drinking?” she said. “Aye” he replied with a drunken smile on his face, “They were having a leaving do for one of the boys, he’s retired after 35 years at the sawmills.” Cathy smiled, “You could do that Johnny and one day if you are lucky you’ll have a leaving do like him.” “Silly cow”, he thought, but kept up the pretence, “Forget about 35 years, ah want tae dae 40 years, love the place.” “Oh ah’m glad tae hear that,” Cathy said as she put his tea on the table. But Johnny awoke in the morning with a sense of dread. How was he going to tell her that he had been sacked for punching the shitey forklift driver? He decided in a flash not to. He put his overalls on as usual and had his sandwiches and flask in hand. Before he left he concealed some gear in a bag, a shirt, jacket, trousers and shoes.
He kissed Cathy on the cheek saying cheerily, “Ah feel like one of the seven dwarves “Hi ho, it’s off to work I go!” Cathy laughed saying, “You are a mad bastard Johnny but I love you.” He left the house feeling ecstatic and was, as his missus had called him “a mad bastard”. Everyone in the Gorbals knew he was a mad bastard. But at least his wife loved him for it. He went into the toilets at Gorbals Cross, took off his overalls, and changed into his street gear. He made a quick exit over the bridge to the town where he could hide away safely until 4pm when his shift officially ended.
He was not short of money and went into his bank to delve into his secret savings, which even Cathy did not know about. His savings had been depleted, what with the marriage and the baby on the way. A cot, pram and baby clothes were not cheap and Cathy always insisted on the best. Also, the Lorraine pay off had dented his financial situation.
But he had stashed a few hundred quid away to play about with, enough to kill time until the baby was born. He dared not tell Cathy about his sacking, he feared the shock would give her a miscarriage. One thing he did was avoid pubs. It was too tempting to go and get drunk. No, he would spend his time on cultural pursuits visiting places like the Kelvingrove Museum, and taking the subway to places like Partick and Hillhead to wander around. He was lingering in a café in Partick when The Beatles came on the jukebox singing ‘Revolution’ He loved the line, “You can count me out…in!” That’s the way he felt, it was a contradiction. At the moment he was out of work but pretending to be in.
One thing slightly niggled him though. Every Friday he handed his pay packet to Cathy who would put it on the kitchen table. Cathy would take her housekeeping money and he would be handed his pocket money. It was a ritual thousands of working men did all over Glasgow. As he was walking through Partick he saw a stationery shop and printers. He went inside and there was a poofy looking guy serving behind the counter with dyed blonde hair. He said to Johnny, “Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?” Johnny felt embarrassed, the guy looked half woman, half man with his flowery shirt and dyed hair.
“Ah wonder if you have any pay packets?” The poofy fellow laughed, “We sure do. How many would you want? “Oh, about a dozen,” Johnny said. He placed them on the counter and Johnny paid him the money.
The poof looked at him with a smile that was that was almost dazzling. “Oh, I suppose you are another one of those guys?” he said. “What dae you mean?” Johnny said. He was straight to the point, “Well we get a few customers who buy pay packets to give to their wives pretending they have lower wages.” Johnny was relieved, at least he was not alone in his dilemma. The poof cheered him up by saying in the campest voice Johnny had ever heard, “She’ll never notice the difference, and these pay packets are used by all the big firms in Glasgow. You’d have to be Sherlock Holmes to detect they were not genuine pay packets.” He left the shop feeling bucked up and amused by the shop assistant’s camp patter. For some reason the gay patter always seemed to cheer him up.
He walked back to the Gorbals toilets and changed back into his overalls. He knew the toilet attendant well, a wee ex-soldier in his early 60s called Billy. The toilet attendant had a small cubicle and had agreed to store Johnny’s overalls for him. In exchange, Johnny gave him a half bottle of Eldorado wine for storage expenses. He got back to the house at 4.30pm. Cathy was there with his tea on the table as usual, “How did it go today?” she asked. He replied in the most convincing voice he could muster, “Oh, hard work as usual. Shovelling sawdust intae bags and then humping plaster boards all over the sawmills.” She smiled, “I am so proud of you. You used tae be a wildman causing trouble all over then place. But now you are a hard-working man who has finally settled down. Even the neighbours are amazed how much you have changed.”
He went with the flow, “Yeah, you can’t beat being a hard working fella like me and have a beautiful looking wife like you.” She blushed as Johnny ate his dinner, “Ah’ve just been thinking that when you have been there a few years they might make you a foreman and a few years after that, manager. Would that no’ be great Johnny? You a foreman and even manager of the sawmills?”
He nodded and gave a false smile, “Aye, chance would be a fine thing. Ah’d like to be foreman and even manager one day. That would be a dream come true!” She looked ecstatic, “Oh ah’m so happy you have settled down. Wi’ the baby on it’s way we’ll be one big happy family.” “Yeah, one big happy family,” he replied, then murmured under his breath, “Silly moo!” Over the next few days he kept up this charade, leaving every morning in his overalls, changing at Gorbals Cross toilets then went up the town. When Friday came he took £20 from the bank. He put it into a pay packet and placed it on the kitchen table as usual. Cathy suspected nothing but surely it would not be long before she heard he had got “the Dan Mac” (the sack) from his job?
One morning he was walking through St Enoch’s Square when he bumped into Alex who was as mercurial as usual. “Where you off tae, Johnny?” “Oh, just having a wander to kill a few hours, to pass the time away.” Alex said with a mischievous grin, “Fancy going tae the pictures for free?” It sounded like a plan and Johnny decided to go along with it, “What cinema shows movies at this time in the morning?” he said. Alex replied, “Follow me and ah’ll show you.” They walked towards Renfield Street where the ABC Cinema was. It had started showing mostly children’s cartoons from early morning.
&nbs
p; Alex led Johnny into a lane at the side of the cinema. He pulled out a small screwdriver and forced the door open. The next minute they were sitting in the darkness watching Micky Mouse and Donald Duck cartoons. The surprising thing was they were the only customers there. But no-one came in and asked them for their tickets. As Johnny watched Donald Duck and Micky Mouse in action he amusingly thought that many of the cartoon characters resembled the numpties he had worked with in the sawmills.
When Popeye came on, his rival Bluto, reminded him of Big Tam the forklift driver, Donald Duck was like the foreman midget and Micky Mouse had certain characteristics that reminded him of McDonald. They left the cinema gigging like schoolboys. Alex said he was going into Lewis’s department store as his mother needed some new tea towels “to do the dirty dishes.” But Johnny had to get back to the Gorbals, and change into his overalls. It was just after 4pm when he had changed and was walking along Gorbals Street when he spotted the midget foreman and Big Tam. Both had frightened looks on their faces when they saw Johnny coming towards them. But he decided to be diplomatic, even to Big Tam.
“How’s it going boys? Just finished work?” “Aye Johnny,” the midget said. Big Tam merely grumbled either through hate or fear, perhaps a combination of both. Johnny decided to be cocky, “Are ye no’ missing me?” Both of them looked nervous, perceiving this might be a precursor to violence. “Of course we are Johnny,” the midget said, “Just a pity it turned out the way it did.” Johnny gave a smile and shrugged his shoulders, “Ach, well that’s the way it goes. Ah honestly couldnae stand it. Besides, you never see an eagle flying wi’ pigeons dae you?”
The midget said, “You’re completely right, you never ever see an eagle flying wi’ pigeons!” Johnny put his hand out and the midget shook it warmly. Much to his surprise, Big Tam did also.
He concluded the interaction by saying, “Sorry about everything, it’s just that that ah’m no’ a sawdust kinda guy.” They made off in the opposite direction and the two men reflected that they had been lucky to have found Johnny in an agreeable mood. When he got to the high flats in Queen Elizabeth Square, Bobby McGee and his two henchmen were waiting for him in a car.
Bobby said, “Where the fuck have you been? We’ve been looking for you everywhere, jump in.” Johnny got in the car and said, “What’s happening?” Bobby replied, “Cathy’s been rushed to hospital, she’s had contractions. A good job her mother was wi’ her.” They sped off in the direction of the Southern General Hospital in Govan. On their way there Bobby said, “We went tae the sawmills and somebody told us you got the sack for thumping some fat orange bastard. Is that right?” Johnny nodded his head, “Aye that and other things.” Bobby laughed, “Served the fat fucker right, that’s good. Fuck that dump, that’s for losers, no’ winners like us.”
“Too right, Bobby, it was full of imbeciles,” Johnny said.
Bobby agreed, “The good news is you can come and work for me. You won’t have tae shovel sawdust and carry planks, plus the money will be a lot better. Shake hands on it, son!” They shook hands on the dubious employment offer. When they got to the hospital, Cathy’s mother was waiting in the corridor with an anxious look on her face. Bobby McGee and Johnny walked towards her, McGee said to his wife, “What’s the news?” She replied, “The doctor says she’s ready tae give birth any time now. So really it’s a waiting game.”
Bobby was in high spirits, “Well I am chuffed. It’s no’ every day you become a grandfather. And you Johnny, becoming a father, it proves you’ve grown up at last!” They waited for over an hour then a white-coated doctor appeared. He looked at them smiling and said, “Cathy has just given birth to a healthy baby boy. Six pounds, two ounces.”
They were led into a maternity ward where Cathy was lying in a bed looking exhausted but happy, clutching the baby. Bobby looked closely at the baby and exclaimed in excitement, “Johnny, the wee man looks just like you!” Johnny had to agree.
Bobby asked his daughter, “What are ye gonnae call the baby?” She was in a tired mood and replied softly, “Oh, ah don’t know, I’ll let Johnny decide. We’ve discussed dozens of names.”
Johnny felt a mellow mood overcome him. It was a sentimental feeling he had never experienced before, “We’ll call him Johnny after me and give him the middle name, Robert, after your father,” he said to Cathy. And so, it was to be. Johnny Robert McGrath had entered the world in the loving arms of a Gorbals family.
Chapter 50
BUSINESS
While Cathy was in the maternity ward, Johnny was free to drop his pretence of being a slave at the sawmills. No longer did he have to put on his hated overalls and change at the Gorbals toilets. Anyway, he had a new job offer with Bobby McGee but he was still curious as to what was involved. In the event, McGee arranged for a meeting with Johnny in his flat while the coast was clear.
His wife was spending most of her time at the hospital, at least for a few days until Cathy came home with the baby. Bobby led Johnny into his flat and offered him a large whisky from his decanter. They both sat down to discuss business. McGee was straight to the point, “Before you start working wi’ me ah’ve got to explain what I do. But it’s pretty confidential, understand?” Johnny nodded his head rather nervously, “Yeah Bobby I understand, my lips are sealed.”
“Good,” Bobby continued, “This is the score, I am in the insurance and banking business. I also have sidelines like having a window cleaning firm.” “Sounds great” said Johnny, “Can you elaborate?”
“Right, here goes,” Bobby said, “First of all, the insurance business. For a sum, depending on the size of the business, we protect people from any trouble. So, for example, you have a pub, for a couple of quid a week we make sure there is no trouble there. And if there is, we sort out the troublemakers. So it’s a good insurance policy for the landlord and gives him peace of mind that he has back up. The banking side is a wee bit different. We loan money to people starting at two bob, twenty pence in the pound. And the punter pays it back the next week. So, say you borrow a fiver, then next week you pay six quid, simple.”
“But what happens if they don’t pay?” Johnny asked rather naively. “Well, the interest then goes to four bob in the pound, forty pence, so the fiver goes up to seven quid.”
“And what happens if they don’t pay that?” Johnny asked. McGee was straight to the point with a scowl on his face, “Simple, they might get a slap on the face or a kick in the balls, depending on the circumstances. Bur we’re no’ like the big banks, we don’t take your house from you. A good slap or kicking is usually enough tae ensure the dosh is paid back pronto. Ah’m no’ like Arthur, Glasgow’s Godfather, he’s been known to crucify people, nail them to walls and floor if they don’t cough up.
“On the gambling side we take bets from the punters and provide better odds than the official bookies. But reputation is important. We always pay out no matter how big or small the win is. One punter won £500 from me last week and we paid up straight away. The guy is a gambling degenerate, so I know I’ll get ma money back eventually, and more. The takings are good for all bookies, official and unofficial ones like me. I mean have you ever seen a bookie on a bike?”
“No,” Johnny laughed.
“Right, so that’s the core of the business, banking, betting and insurance. But ah’ve just started a window cleaning business as well.”
“Window cleaning?” Johnny asked in a bemused tone.
“We operate in posh areas like Milngavie, Giffnock, Shawlands and Hillhead where people have big houses with lots of valuables. My window cleaners clock what time they come and go and note the routine. Armed wi’ the information, a separate mob of guys are employed tae burgle the places, simple!” Johnny was really impressed. So this was what real gangsters did. It certainly was more exciting and far more lucrative than shovelling sawdust into bags.
“So, what’s ma job?” he asked Bobby.
“Well now you are part of the family, you will be my right-hand man, enforcer
and consiglieri.”
“Consiglieri, what the fuck does that mean?”
“It’s an old Mafia term, it means you give me advice when I can’t make my mind up. The consiglieri is the guy the big boss consults when he needs steering in the right direction.”
And the hours?”
“The pay is a basic fifty quid plus bonuses, and the hours vary depending on what other wee jobs you have to dae. But ah’ll tell you what, you won’t have tae clock in like the sawmills!” Bobby laughed.
“What am I gonnae tell Cathy about leaving the sawmills”
“Don’t worry about that, her mother told her you left there to join the family firm. Cathy doesn’t know what ah do exactly. But she does have a faint idea ah’m in the banking, betting and insurance business.”
“Sounds impressive Bobby. So you make a right few bob from this?”
Bobby smiled and rose from his chair, “You could say that. Come on and ah’ll show you something.” He led Johnny into another room and opened a safe in the wall which was hidden behind a painting. Inside the safe there were piles of £10 and £20 notes. “This is some of my ill-gotten gains,” Bobby joked. Johnny was certainly impressed with what he had told him. And glimpses of his father in laws’ dodgy wealth reinforced the idea that he should also be a professional gangster. It was a no-brainer.
The Incredible Rise of a Gorbals Gangster Page 27
