by Todd, Ian
“Mr & Mrs Taylor.”
“Hiv ye goat an appointment?”
“Believe you me, hen, we widnae be here if we didnae,” Jimmy said.
“Oh, and by the way, gie him this,” Helen said, haunin o’er the broon envelope.
Helen and Jimmy stood listening tae the exchange fae behind the glass partition.
“There’s a Mr and Mrs Taylor tae see ye, Mr Anderson.”
“Eh?”
“A Mr and Mrs Taylor?”
“It’s impossible. She’s jist been sent doon fur three months.”
“Well, it looks like the same Helen Taylor that tried tae punch ye this time last year. She’s probably done a runner. Dae ye want me tae call the polis?”
“Er, erm...”
“Oh, and she asked me tae gie ye this.”
Jimmy and Helen heard the envelope being ripped open.
“Fur fuck’s sake!”
“So, dae ye want me tae bring them through?”
“Did ye tell them Ah wis here?”
“Naw.”
“Right, tell them Ah’m no in and that the letter summoning them doon here the day wis a mistake and wis meant fur another Mr and Mrs Taylor.”
“Really?”
“Margaret, fur Christ’s sake…gonnae jist dae whit ye’re telt.”
“Let’s go, Jimmy,” Helen said, heiding fur the door oan tae George Street.
The party wis in full swing. Tam Alexander wis sitting oan a stool in the corner, gieing it big licks oan the accordion. Marilyn Monroe, Sandra Dee and Jayne Mansfield wur daeing The Gay Gordons in the lobby wae three ae the boys fae behind the bar in The Grafton. Jimmy wis telling a group ae the menfolk aboot his new wagon and how nipping doon tae England wis a doddle noo.
“It’s a Leyland. They’ve introduced whit they call a self-dampening seat. Whit that means is, that yer arse goes wae the flow when ye go o’er aw the bumps. It means ye don’t hiv tae haud oan tae the steering wheel tae keep yer balance and that arse ae yers disnae feel like ye’ve been in the saddle aw day when ye get oot fur a pish.”
Aw the neighbours wur there. Everywan hid brought alang booze and food. Helen walked across tae Johnboy, who wis sitting at the kitchen table nibbling crisps.
“Ur ye okay, Johnboy?”
“Poor auld Jessie goat killed doon at the lights beside the surgery the day,” he whimpered.
“Did ye tell yer da?”
“Aye.”
“Whit did he say?”
“He telt me how lorries jack-knife and that there’s nothing the driver kin dae aboot it.”
“Johnboy, Ah want ye in the hoose o’er the next few days. So, Ah don’t want ye gaun oot ae here withoot first okaying it wae me. You and me ur gonnae hiv a long painful talk the morra. In the meantime, enjoy everywan making an arse ae themsels. Okay?”
“Aye, Ma.”
Chapter Forty Nine
Sunday
Helen sat waiting fur Johnboy tae come back wae The Sunday Echo. She’d telt him tae nip roond tae Sherbet’s and that he hid tae come straight back. She’d gied him five minutes and no a minute mair. She thought aboot her reaction when she’d found oot that he’d been wandering the streets fur a week withoot Jimmy or the lassies knowing where the hell he wis. When she’d arrived back hame tae the hoose wae Jimmy and found him sitting there, eating a piece and jam, she’d wanted tae run across and cuddle him, before slapping the hell oot ae him. There hid been too many people aboot, so she’d held her hersel back. Jimmy and the lassies thought it wis the following Friday that he wis being released fae Larchgrove. Thank God they hidnae telt her he wis missing when she’d been in the jail, she thought tae hersel. She’d sat doon wae him wance the place hid been tidied the day before. He’d telt her that he’d been staying wae his pals and furgoat tae come hame. Christ, imagine if something hid happened tae him. Her temper hid dampened doon as a result ae the party, plus she’d a bit ae a hangover, so he’d goat aff lightly. He wis tae be kept in o’er the next few weeks. Efter school, she wanted him hame as soon as the bell went aff…no ifs or buts. He wis oan his final warning. Any mair trouble and it wid be a stick that she’d use oan him. When she’d found oot that aw his pals hid goat lifted oan the Friday morning by the polis, she suspected that that hid been the real reason behind his sudden reappearance. She wisnae too bothered aboot his pals being lifted. It wid gie her time tae stamp oan him. Jimmy said that he’d been in a terrible state o’er that horse ae his. He’d said that Jessie wis him and his pals’ favourite. Efter the meeting wae The Rat the day before, aw the wummin hid agreed that they’d chip in a wee donation tae get a wreath fur the poor cart driver who’d died. Mary Gucci hid said that she’d sign aw the boys names oan it, including the wee boy that hid died in the fire. She thought the boys wid appreciate this being done oan their behauf. Johnboy hidnae mentioned the cart driver, so Helen assumed that he wisnae aware ae the seriousness ae the accident, which wis probably fur the better. Efter aw, he wis only ten years auld.
The meeting wae The Rat hid gone well. Efter a bit ae suspicious silence fae the wummin folk, he’d telt them whit he wis planning tae write aboot. Wae Helen’s encouragement, they’d telt him aboot the grief the boys hid been getting aff the local polis aw summer, particularly fae the two sergeants. Efter the meeting, wance he’d scurried aff tae write up his story, they’d aw been in agreement that despite the good write up he’d gied them aboot the riot up in John Street previously, they still widnae trust him as far as they could fling him. Her thoughts wur interrupted and she smiled when she heard Hopalong Cassidy tearing up the stairs, two at a time.
“Here ye go, Ma,” Johnboy panted, keeping oot ae slapping range.
“Right, go and gie yer da a shout and tell him Ah’ve goat the paper.”
Helen laid it oan the table and spread it oot. The main story oan the front page wis aboot the bank robbery that hid taken place up oan Parly Road oan Friday morning. Although the bank widnae confirm it, the paper said that the robbers hid goat aff wae jist o’er three thousand pounds, bit that the workers ae the firms affected, wid still get their wages, even though they’d hiv tae wait until the Monday. She turned the page. There wis a photo ae the horse and cart wae the lorry that hid jack-knifed oan St James Road oan Friday morning. By the time she wis hauf way through the paper, Jimmy hid arrived in his underpants and string vest.
“Whit dis it say then?”
“Nothing. No a peep, so far.”
“Ye’ve probably missed it. Oot ae ma way,” he said, taking the paper and turning the pages.
“Anything?”
“Naw.”
“Gie’s it here,” Helen said, starting at the front page again, and slowly turning each page.
“That’s funny…the way ye spoke, Ah thought it wis gonnae be oan the front page or something,” Jimmy said, scratching his right buttock.
“Oh Christ!”
“Whit?” Jimmy asked, leaning o’er Helen.
“There!” Helen pointed tae a wee postage stamp-sized article at the bottom ae page ten.
“Polis fished the body ae an elderly man oot ae the River Clyde in the Broomielaw oan Friday night. It is believed tae be that ae Mr Harry Portoy, wan ae Glesga’s maist controversial criminal lawyers ae the nineteen fifties. It is believed that Mr Portoy hid fallen oan hard times recently and wis staying in The Tontine Hotel, a centre fur those suffering fae alcohol problems. Acting Lieutenant Sally Cross, Salvation Army Officer in charge ae the hotel, said last night that ‘Mr Portoy wis a lovely man, bit who, unfortunately, hid succumbed tae the demon drink in latter years.’ Inspector Mickey Sherlock ae Glesga Central Polis said there wis nae suspicious circumstances. Mr Portoy’s family hiv been informed,” Jimmy read oot aloud.
“They evil monsters hiv goat tae him…the basturts!”
“Ye cannae say that, Helen. Ye admitted it yersel. The man hid a drink problem.”
“Ah’m telling ye, Jimmy, Ah know whit Ah’m talking aboot,” Helen said, her eyes filling
up wae tears.
“Well, Ah don’t suppose we’ll ever find oot noo, will we?”
PART TWO
Chapter One
Glesga District Court, Central Polis Headquarters, March 1968.
“So, the basturt’s deid then?” Skull asked, bringing Johnboy back tae the here and noo.
“Horsey John? Aye, it wisnae that long efter ye’d gone.”
“And poor Jessie as well?”
“Aye. Ah still think aboot her a lot.”
“And whit aboot me then?”
“Oh, aye, Skull, we aw think aboot ye a lot tae,” Johnboy assured him, smiling.
“Serves the horrible basturt right, so it dis. And whit aboot that limping midget wae the club fit?”
“Tiny? He’s still limping away and being grumpy as fuck tae everywan. He runs the stables noo.”
“So, whit’s a wreath then?”
“It’s flowers that ye send tae people’s funerals when they croak it.”
“And aw oor maws sent Horsey John a bunch ae flowers? Fae us?” Skull asked accusingly.
Skull goat up and walked tae the other end ae the cell and started tae lightly kick the wall wae the toe ae his left fitba boot in a rat–a–tat–tat kind ae rhythm. It wis the kind ae toe-kicking that Johnboy used tae dae when he wis younger, when his ma goat him a new pair ae shoes. He wid kick the toes aff a wall, or scrape the leather oan the side ae the shoes alang the pavement oan the way tae school because he’d be too embarrassed tae be clocked wearing new shoes in the playground. Johnboy sat and watched Skull, wondering whit wis gaun oan in that heid ae his. Skull hid his foreheid pressed against the tiled brickwork, looking doon at his drumming toes. It wis obvious tae Johnboy that he wis trying tae take in whit he’d jist heard.
“If we’d thought fur wan second that it wis they basturts that set the cabin alight wae you and Elvis in it, Ah don’t think we wid’ve been too pleased wae that at the time either,” Johnboy said in his best apologetic voice.
“Ah’d love tae hiv been there tae gie that Fat Flickering Fingerer and his pals a couple ae Sticky Screamers in the gub though, so Ah wid,” Skull said, laughing, as he twirled roond suddenly, jist missing Johnboy’s heid wae wan.
“Aye, it wis a picture, so it wis,” Johnboy said, shifting across tae the other wall.
They baith sat there and watched Skull’s slimy missile slowly dribbling doon the wall, hivving tae put a wee bit mair effort in every time it came tae the gap between the bricks.
“So, where hiv ye come fae, Skull?”
“Ah don’t know,” Skull mumbled.
“Ye must know something.”
“Aw Ah know is that it wisnae jist that pair ae tadgers.”
“Whit? Ye mean somewan else wis involved?”
“Aye, bit Ah don’t think it wis The Big Man.”
“It’s bound tae hiv been The Big Man. He’s the basturt that gies aw the orders.”
“Naw, Ah think it wis...”
It wis jist then that Johnboy let oot a howling yelp as he felt the worst stab ae pain in his ribs that he’d ever felt in his entire life. Some dirty basturt hid booted him in the ribs while he wis lying stretched oot wae his eyes shut. It couldnae hiv been Skull as the kick hid come fae the other side ae him.
“Right, up oan yer feet, Taylor. Ye’re offskie!” Creeping Jesus, the turnkey barked.
Beside Creepy, two men, wearing identical checked jaickets, stood looking doon at Johnboy. Despite the excruciating pain he wis in, Johnboy looked aboot fur Skull, bit he’d awready legged it.
“Right, dae as ye’re telt and get up oan tae yer feet, Sleeping Beauty. Ye’re aff tae Thistle Park Holiday Camp, the school fur angels wae dirty hauns. And nae funny stuff or that arse ae yers will end up in tatters.”
“Bit, bit, Ah need tae put ma socks oan,” Johnboy gasped, confused, sore and pointing tae where he’d laid his socks oot oan the concrete bed.
“Jist put them in yer pocket. Ye’ll get two pairs where ye’re gaun.”
“Bit...”
“Right, Sunshine, get up and haud oot yer hauns,” wan ae them snarled at him, dragging him up oan tae they feet ae his, as the cuffs wur swiftly clamped oan tae his wrists.
“Ma socks!”
“Here ye go,” Creeping Jesus said, stuffing them intae the front pocket ae Johnboy’s troosers, as checked jaicket number wan dragged him towards the cell door.
Chapter Two
Johnboy’s heid wis minced. He wis sitting in the back seat ae a car, heiding fur Thistle Park, oot in Paisley. He wis grimacing in pain and in dire need ae an aspirin or something. He’d heard ae Thistle Park before. His big brother, Charlie, hid been sent there, plus when he wis in The Grove, it wis furever getting mentioned. He couldnae remember anywan saying that they wanted tae go there insteid ae tae another approved school, although he wisnae too bothered aboot whit the place wid be like. He’d soon suss oot whit the score wis wance he goat there, and anyway, he knew Tony and Joe hid been sent there. As well as wondering where the hell Skull hid disappeared tae, he wis sitting, trying tae figure oot which wan ae the dirty rotten basturts that wur sitting in the front seats hid booted him in the ribs, sabotaging him fae finding oot who the other basturt wis that hid been involved wae Horsey John and Tiny in burning doon the cabin. He tried tae inhale in wee short breaths. Anything deeper sent stabbing bolts ae pain shooting across his throbbing side. He wondered whit the reaction wid be if he leaned o’er and gied the driver a five fingered slap oan the big boil that wis aboot tae burst oan the back ae his neck? He promised himsel that the first chance he goat, he wis gonnae make a painful comeback against whichever wan ae the basturts hid done the booting.
“Turn that shite aff,” the driver said tae the passenger wae the bull neck.
‘Lady Madonna’ wis immediately silenced by the press ae a button. Johnboy wanted tae tell the basturts that he wis listening tae that, bit insteid, jist looked aboot, scowling tae himsel. They’d pulled oot ae Central and turned left oan tae the Saltmarket. He managed tae catch a quick glimpse ae the wee electrical shoap that him and Tony hid tanned three years earlier during the school holidays in nineteen sixty five. The Big Man hid asked The Mankys tae see if they could get him some tranny radios, which hid jist become popular at the time. Everywan hid been efter them. He wis still trying tae remember how much The Big Man hid gied them as the car passed The High Court and the mortuary oan his right and followed the traffic o’er the Albert Bridge towards the Gorbals. He smiled as he remembered Tony pointing oot aw the sights and sounds as they wur walking back up the Saltmarket in search ae the shoap. When Tony hid telt him whit the wee red brick building wis, sitting attached tae the court, they’d legged it. It hid gied Johnboy the willies at the time. He wondered why it didnae hiv that same effect oan him noo. Wance across the bridge, the indicator alerted him that they wur turning right and heiding towards Tradeston and Govan Cross beyond. He couldnae help smiling through the pain in his sore ribs when they passed the big Co-op funeral building in Tradeston. It reminded him ae the time that Joe and Paul hid turned up, oot ae the blue, carrying a brand new coffin. They’d carried it aw the way back tae the Toonheid…through the toon centre and across George Square in broad daylight. It hid then taken them nearly three weeks tae get shot ae it. They’d managed tae convince Flypast tae let them stash it in his dookit fur a share ae the profits. Some ae the people that they’d taken it roond tae, tae try and flog it, widnae even let them in through their front door. They’d eventually managed tae get rid ae it though. They’d bumped intae Tinky Taylor’s da, Humphy Aleck, in McAslin Street, as he wis coming oot ae The McAslin Bar, pished as a fart. Aleck wisnae jist a legend wae aw the young wans in the Toonheid, who he’d illegally taught tae drive wance they wur aw oot ae short troosers, bit he wis admired by aw the local adults as well, due tae the fact that he claimed tae be the only hunchbacked coalman in the city. Being first at anything, no matter how unimportant it seemed tae anywan else ootside the area wis important. Ale
ck hid status, and Foosty, his wife, didnae let anywan forget it. Aleck hid insisted oan buying the coffin fur Foosty. Joe said that it hid been a pure fluke, as Aleck wis the last person they’d hiv thought aboot wanting tae buy it, given who he wis married tae. Foosty Taylor wis well-known fur striking first and asking questions later, as the local bizzies hid found oot tae their cost when they’d turned up mob-haunded tae arrest Aleck and that humph ae his fur dealing in knocked-aff car parts that he kept stored in a blocked-aff wash-hoose ootside his kitchen windae. Joe and Paul hid still been basking in their salesmanship a week later when Humphy Aleck hid arrived back oan the scene and started tae hassle them aboot gieing him his money back, despite the casket hivving been a deluxe model. By that time, Aleck hid become the talk ae the steamie. Aw Foosty’s pals hid taken umbrage when they’d discovered that he’d bought his wife a coffin…and that he’d spent nearly a week trying tae persuade her tae lie in it tae make sure that it fitted her. Foosty and aw the local wummin hid been convinced that Aleck wis planning tae dae away wae her. Things hid then gone fae bad tae worse when Aleck discovered that it wis four inches too short fur her. Wae outraged support fae Johnboy’s ma, Soiled Sally, Sharon Campbell, Shitey Sadie and Johnboy’s next door neighbour, Betty, Foosty hid taken control ae the situation by threatening Aleck wae violence if he didnae get tae fuck, taking his coffin wae him, tae demand his money back. Joe and Paul hid rightly telt him tae piss aff, as they hidnae agreed tae ‘sale or return’ and because they’d punted it tae him in good faith. The Mankys hid pissed themsels laughing when Paul hid the cheek tae say tae Aleck that nowan wid notice if Foosty’s legs wur bent o’er a wee bit at the bottom, seeing as they’d be looking at her coupon and no her bent and twisted knees when they came tae pay their last respects. Aleck hid taken the hump at that suggestion and hid sworn that it wid be the last time he’d be buying anything aff ae them. He’d also warned them tae stay oot ae Foosty’s way as she wis threatening tae hunt them doon. The gossip surrounding poor Foosty hid moved up a notch amongst the steamie crowd when Aleck tried tae pawn the coffin, efter failing tae find a buyer. Fat Fingered Finklebaum, the owner ae the pawn shoap oan McAslin Street, widnae gie him any mair than four quid fur it…fifty percent less than whit it hid cost him. Efter agreeing oan the deal, poor Aleck and Fat Fingered hid then spent an hour and a hauf dismantling the door ae wan ae the cubicles in the pawn shoap because the coffin hid goat wedged in it and they couldnae get it back oot. The Big Man hid hid tae act as a go-between efter Fat Fingered reneged oan the deal and Aleck refused tae pay fur the damage tae the cubicle door. As far as Johnboy knew, Humphy Aleck hid never spoken tae Joe and Paul since. Johnboy wis jolted back tae the present when the car braked suddenly because some auld dear stepped oot in front ae them when the lights wur oan green. Johnboy couldnae help smiling when she stoapped in the middle ae the road and scowled at the car before gieing the driver two fingers.
