Dumfries

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Dumfries Page 50

by Todd, Ian


  “So, who won the competition then?” Johnboy asked him, smiling, wondering whit the priest wid say if he knew he wis using part ae the haul fae a break-in oan Lord Owen, the owner ae The Glesga Echo’s fancy hoose, across in the West End ae Glesga tae cool himsel doon.

  “I’m not sure. The Chief, Mr Baker, hasn’t asked for feedback from either me or Fanny.”

  “So, how did yer group dae wae the exercise?”

  “Oh, fine, fine.”

  “Did they come up wae any good answers?”

  “Some.”

  “So, ye’re no prepared tae spill the beans then?”

  “I think Mr Baker, The Chief, is still considering whether or not to declare a winner. Until then, it’s probably better if I keep quiet until I hear otherwise.”

  “So, he’s gonnae declare the results then?”

  “I’m not sure. I tried raising it with him, but the increase in tension that’s being growing over the past few weeks in the establishment is distracting him.”

  “That’s self-inflicted, so it is. He brought this aboot by hivving a go at Wee Mick McGeachy by putting him oan report because he telt him tae keep his shite advice tae himsel…that and the fact that Dickheid Dick and his squinty-eyed pal, The Tormentor, hiv been leading the charge and hivving a go at guys doon in the digger.”

  “I think there’s blame on both sides.”

  “That pair hiv a sticky end coming tae them someday, Father. You mark ma words. Ah don’t know whit the score wis in the past, bit some ae the YOs currently daeing time in here jist won’t accept that kind ae prolonged shite. If Napoleon The Pig didnae go aboot raising people’s expectations and then end up reneging oan agreements made, the place wid be a lot mair at peace wae itsel,” Johnboy retorted, frowning at the wee tape machine.

  “Something smells nice other than burning leaves,” the priest said, sniffing the air, as the clattering sounds ae a fire engine drawing near could be heard in the distance.

  “Aye, Ah’ve jist received a letter, oot ae the blue, fae a lassie Ah wance knew oan the ootside. Ah wish Ah knew whit her perfume wis called. It’s really nice.”

  “Girlfriend?”

  “Well, Ah suppose ye could call her that, bit no the type ye cuddle and try and get aff wae.”

  “Oh?”

  “Aye, she’s mair like a sister…a pal…if ye know whit Ah mean? That’s no tae say the thought hidnae crossed ma mind oan mair than a few occasions, bit it never worked oot where anything could’ve happened,” he smiled wistfully.

  “Why was that?”

  “Because Ah wis either in the nick, oan the run, or too busy daeing other things that didnae involve lassies who wur looking fur mair than a…er…a kiss and a quick cuddle.”

  “And she’s taken the time to write to you? That’s nice,” the priest said, staunin up and walking across tae the windae tae investigate the source ae the smoke. “Oh dear, someone’s shed is on fire.”

  “Aye, it wis a bit ae a surprise tae hear fae her as she’d awready sent me a Dear John, or a Dear Johnboy, as the boys like tae remind me ae, a day or two efter Ah’d been sentenced. Ah think she finally wised-up and realised that Ah wis jist a waste ae space,” Johnboy pouted behind that humph, noticing the letter peeking oot fae underneath his pillow, as he leaned back on the cell door.

  “Will you write back to her?” the priest asked, stretching up oan his sandals tae try and get a better view ae whit wis happening oan the other side ae the barbed fence.

  “Ah’m no sure. She’s asked me tae send oot a pass so she kin come doon and visit me. Look, father, jist use ma bed tae staun up oan tae gie yersel a better view ae whit’s gaun oan. Ah mean, ye widnae want tae gie yersel a sore neck, noo wid ye?” he said, drily.

  “Oh, that’s kind of you,” the priest said, turning and retreating back tae his seat.

  “Wan ae the boys drives some ae the lassies doon tae see us every second month or so, so there wid be a lift oan offer.”

  “You don’t sound too sure.”

  “Naw, naw, Ah’ve made up ma mind. Ah’ve known her a long time and some ae the lassies and the others thought we might end up thegither, bit that obviously isnae gonnae happen noo, that’s fur sure.”

  “And you. Is that what you thought?”

  “Ah’m no sure,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders and plapping that arse ae his doon oan the corner ae the bed. “We sat beside each other in primary school before Ah started getting put away tae remand centres when Ah wis a snapper. Ah even turned up at school wan day wae a card and a box ae Maltesers fur her oan her tenth or eleventh birthday,” he said, smiling. “She’s probably the first and only lassie Ah kin honestly say that Ah ever really fell in love wae.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “Nothing. She knocked back the card and the Maltesers. If ma memory serves me right, me and Tony Gucci sat and scoffed them up oan tap ae the boys toilets ae The City Public, the local secondary school that ma sisters went tae and that wis that. Wance everywan fae the Toonheid goat decanted, maistly up tae Springburn, efter they’d laid waste tae the place, Ah caught up wae her again. She wis wan ae the lassies that hung aboot wae me and ma pals up in Springburn.”

  “That would be The Mankys?”

  “The Mankys? Noo, where did ye pick that wan up fae?” Johnboy asked, grinning.

  “Isn’t that what you call yourselves?”

  “Maybe. Ah widnae think that ye’d hear Tony or any ae the other boys calling themsels that, although Ah’ve always quite liked it.”

  “So, why The Mankys?”

  “We wur always as black as two in the morning…that’s why. It’s a name-tag that we goat stuck wae fae everywan when we wur wee snottery-arsed snappers, running aroond thieving everything that wisnae tied doon in the Toonheid, back in the early sixties when we wur growing up. Ah suppose we wur well-named though, when ye think aboot it. We wur always up stripping the lead aff ae the roofs ae the auld tenements, or ripping the pipes fae the toilets in the factories across oan Dobbies Loan, while people wur slaving away oan the factory flair. Christ, we even blagged the sheet copper aff ae St Mungo’s Chapel in Parson Street, much tae the annoyance ae the local priest. Gied Tony a lot ae pleasure that wan, so it did,” Johnboy said, as the baith ae them chuckled.

  “So, the name doesn’t bother you and your friends then?”

  “No really. It’s jist a label that’s always been there. Ah’m sure we’ve been called much worse. Aw the local bizzies and the wummin used tae refer tae us as ‘they wee manky basturts’ and Ah think the name jist stuck. Ah think Snappy quite likes it as well. He says that it’s goat a certain ring tae it,” Johnboy said, the baith ae them looking at each other, grinning.

  “So, will you be sending out a visiting pass to, er…”

  “Senga.”

  “…Senga?”

  “Somehow, Ah don’t think so, Father.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because Ah jist don’t see the point, that’s why. Why go tormenting yersel?”

  “But, I thought you were only just good friends? Why would you be tormented if there were no feelings other than just being good friends?”

  “It’s hard fur me tae explain, Father, especially wae you being a priest and aw that, and anyway, whit’s wae the nineteen-canteen tape machine?” Johnboy asked him, nodding and diverting the subject away fae Senga Jackson.

  “Oh, I’ve got something for you to listen to.”

  “Oh, aye?”

  “Yes, tell me what you hear, but be open-minded at the same time,” the priest pleaded, leaning forward and pressing the white ‘play’ button.

  At first, aw Johnboy could hear wis the hissing ae the tape and then whit sounded like babbling voices creeping up and growing louder as the tape continued. He looked across at the priest, who smiled encouragingly, before turning the volume up higher. Johnboy sat, no sure whether Father Leonard wis taking the piss or no, bit he held back wae the wan-liner he wis gonnae hit him wae, jist in cas
e whit he wis hearing wis the intro tae something a bit mair melodic, like Tonto’s Expanding Headband. Efter five minutes ae groaning, babbling and ranting oot ae tune, the priest pressed the red stoap button.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “Well, whit?”

  “What did you think?”

  “It reminded me ae that ma ae mine when her and aw her cronies use tae end up pissed and the atmosphere wid turn intae a self-induced misery session when they’d aw start bleating aboot how men…and priests, in particular…wur aw right basturts tae them,” Johnboy said, smiling.

  “This was recorded at a Pentecostal church service in Cornwall last year. Everyone who was present was born and bred locally. When the recording was analysed in an attempt to decipher what people were saying by one of the large prestigious universities in America, they were able to confirm that some of the people were talking in ancient Hebrew. Only two people in the congregation, apart from the minister, could speak another language, other than English, those being French and German.”

  “So?”

  “So, you asked for evidence of the Holy Spirit and now you have it,” Father Leonard replied, sitting back comfortably in the chair, clearly satisfied, as he crossed his sandaled feet, hitting Johnboy wae a triumphant smile.

  “Ye’ve lost me.”

  “And when Paul had laid his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came on them, and they began speaking in tongues and prophesised. Acts 19:6,” the priest said, looking at Johnboy’s blank expression, before continuing, “What you were listening to was a baptism of the Holy Spirit, where God blessed those present.”

  The priest then spread his hauns apart, clearly mystified that Johnboy hidnae pick up oan the obvious.

  “Play it again,” Johnboy grunted, nodding at the machine, leaning forward and putting his elbows oan his knees.

  “Oh, there are other examples scattered throughout the bible. Did you know that at the Last Supper, people thought the disciples had drunk too much wine, but in actual fact, they were speaking in tongues?” the priest managed tae get in before switching the tape oan again.

  “Father, Ah don’t want tae come across as being disappointingly cynical here, especially seeing as ye’ve obviously put in a fair wee bit ae work, bit tell me ye’re no serious?” Johnboy asked him, fighting, bit failing, no tae laugh derisively.

  “Johnboy, you asked for evidence and that’s what I’ve given you. What more do you need? And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance. Acts 2:4. Or, how about, and these signs shall follow them that believe; in my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues. Mark 16:17. I could go on and on,” Father Leonard continued, clearly miffed that Johnboy hidnae goat it.

  “Father, even if Jesus H Christ himsel strode through that door, rattling a tambourine and shouting halleluiah in ancient Hebrew, Ah’m still no gonnae staun up there like an eejit at yer mass…at least, no oan ma lonesome, so Ah’m no.”

  “Then, you’re reneging on our deal?”

  “Naw, whit Ah’m saying is that this Proddy is no gaun up there oan his lonesome. Ah’m telling ye, that maw ae mine wid be burling in her grave, so she wid.”

  “Your mother was a daughter of the church, baptised a Catholic?”

  “That’s whit makes it even worse.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that if I can get another inmate on board, you’ll help me out?”

  Silence.

  “Aye, right, okay, bit Ah widnae haud yer breath oan that wan,” Johnboy finally agreed, though instantly regretting it.

  “Fine. I’ll see you on Saturday morning in the chapel about eleven o’clock and we’ll have a run through,” the priest declared, satisfied, staunin up wae a big grin spread across his coupon, reaching o’er and lifting up his tape machine.

  “Aye, well, good luck…ye’ll need it. And don’t even attempt tae involve me wae any ae they stoat-the-baws either,” Johnboy reminded him, as the cell door wis closed o’er quietly.

  Johnboy turned roond and reached under the pillow and withdrew Senga’s letter.

  “Good evening. My name is John Turney and these are the news headlines in Scotland tonight.

  A youth who was sentenced to life in a young offender’s institution for the murder of fourteen-year-old Ann Brown from Cambusbarron in Stirlingshire two years ago, may be granted leave to appeal his conviction after Lord McRae at the High Court in Edinburgh today sensationally agreed to explore the case further behind closed doors under the Temporary Provisions of Terrorism Act 1973. Robert Connor’s solicitor, Mr Silas Abrahams, informed a packed news conference in Edinburgh today, that whilst he was unable to fully explain the new evidence in any detail, due to the provisions of the Terrorism Act, he was confident that the new evidence that was submitted before Lord McRae and other law lords by Michael Baird, QC, would lead to a referral to the appeal court in due course. Mr Abrahams agreed that it was early days yet, but that he believed a miscarriage of justice had taken place and that his client was innocent of all charges. News Tonight can exclusively reveal that the new evidence submitted is believed to include taped evidence that the Crown Office knowingly held back at Robert Connor’s trial at The High Court in Glasgow, which could have proven Robert Connor’s innocence, beyond reasonable doubt. There will be more on this story after the headlines, including an interview with Robert Conner’s mother, Flora, who has led a high-profile…

  Assistant Chief Constable Jack Tipple has defended how police conduct themselves when responding to victims after criticism from Councillor Margaret Murphy on the force continuing to use male officers to conduct the interviewing of rape victims. Councillor Murphy said that whilst she accepts the dedication and professionalism of the police, out-dated practices, particularly where violence against women is concerned, require to be re-examined…

  Sixteen-year-old Kevin Thompson died in Glasgow’s Southern General Hospital earlier this morning, despite a seven-hour battle by surgeons to save his life after being stabbed outside a fish and chip shop on Pollokshaws Road last night…

  A youth has been sentenced to five years in a young offender’s institution at the High Court in Glasgow today for permanently disfiguring a newsagent for life by slashing him across the face with an open razor after attempting to hold up his shop on Maryhill Road at the beginning of August this year…

  A housing spokesman at the City Chambers in Glasgow today admitted that warrant sales have nearly trebled compared to the same period last year…

  Tourism continues to grow with hotels in and around the city centre announcing record uptakes on their rooms this year…”

  Female staff at Ginivetti Engineering on Queenslie Industrial Estate today held a mass walk-out after management refused to enter into discussions to explore paying women workers the same as their male counterparts for doing the same job. Union officials dismissed claims that their members were out-of-control after management alleged that the walkout had not been sanctioned by the union…”

  Chapter Forty Six

  Fanny sat wondering where Father Leonard wis. She’d hung oan fur as long as she could before heiding across tae Miss Beaker’s office. She didnae want tae be the last wan tae arrive at the meeting wae Mr Crawford, the governor.

  “Would you like a glass of water while you’re waiting for the others to arrive…Miss Flaw?” Miss Beaker asked her, emphasising the ‘Miss.’

  “No, I’m fine, Miss Beaker, thank you.”

  The last time she’d spoken tae the secretary, Miss Beaker hid let it be known that she disapproved ae Fanny retaining her maiden name and no taking Jardine’s.

  “Where’s the respect in that?” the fifty-five-year-old spinster’d hid the cheek tae ask her.

  Despite the length ae time working in the institution, Fanny could never get used tae how the atmosphere in the place could change so quickly. Wan day everything seemed quite normal, at least as normal as could be expected in a
place like Dumfries YOI, and then the next, ye could cut the atmosphere wae a knife. Efter the quiz, she’d blamed hersel, even though Father Leonard hid dismissed her assertion that if she hidnae pressed fur the quiz, the solitary confinement block underneath B-Hall widnae be so full ae YOs. Efter The Chief hid dismissed the boys at the tail-end ae the quiz, the atmosphere aroond the establishment hid started tae chill almost immediately. Despite the YO, McGeachy, being placed oan report fur insolence towards The Chief, there hid still been a bit ae a carnival atmosphere when Fanny and Father Leonard hid joined the YOs in the dining hall at teatime. Father Leonard hid made her laugh efterwards, when he’d relayed the discussion at the Springburn table, efter Pat McCabe hid arrived and the other boys hid started talking aboot the discussion they’d hid earlier, before the start ae the quiz.

  “Right, ya selfish, uncaring basturt, ye. Aye, and don’t try and gie us…particularly Father Leonard here…any ae that ‘Look at me, Ah’m actually quite a decent type ae guy’ shite, that ye’re so good at pontificating aboot tae everywan and anywan that’s daft enough tae listen tae ye,” Snappy Johnston hid said in the wan breath, before continuing. “We’re certainly no taken in by ye, seeing as we aw know fine well exactly whit ye ur, don’t we boys? Er, ye’re excused fae taking sides at this point, Father, by the way,” he’d added, before turning his attention back tae his latest victim and co-accused, Pat McCabe.

  “Hiv any ae youse any idea whit bum-licker-boy here is ranting oan aboot?” Pat hid asked, looking at the other grinning boys, who’d jist arrived and wur in the process ae plapping their trays ae food doon oan the table.

  “Aye, they dae. It’s aboot you, so it is…no hivving any feelings fur aw they poor people ye upset by totally disregarding how they might’ve been feeling efter ye robbed them ae aw their good, expensive, inherited jewellery, ya uncaring, un-remorseful, sociopathic dick, ye.”

 

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