by Todd, Ian
“Johnboy, if ye cannae talk tae me, who kin ye talk tae?” Tony hid challenged him oan the morning efter the social worker hid popped her heid roond the door.
“Ah need ye tae get me oot ae this bloody classroom!” Johnboy hid howled in frustration.
“How can Ah help ye if ye won’t tell me whit the fuck’s wrang wae ye?”
“There’s nothing bloody wrang wae me. Ah jist need ye tae get me oot ae this fucking classroom…now!”
Efter a month in the stage building game, things at last started tae unfurl. The stage wis looking quite impressive. The cast fur the show hid taken o’er the boys’ auld classroom in the hut and hid started tae appear o‘er in the efternoons, in dribs and drabs, tae practice and learn where they wur tae staun oan the stage during the concert. The music wis shite, bit Johnboy and the rest ae them goat tae know aw the words tae the songs as the radio hid tae be turned aff while they practiced. Sandy Button hid telt them that the concert wis a mix ae famous musical films aw drawn intae the wan spectacular. Even though they’d sit and pish themsels laughing at the singers, it wisnae long before they wur walking aboot humming ‘Ain’t She Sweet,’ ‘There Is Nothing Like A Dame’ and ‘Nothing Could Be Finer Than Tae Be In Carolina In The Morning.’
The first real inkling that Johnboy’s luck wis aboot tae change started efter breakfast wan Friday morning. There wis a hush in the dining room as Bick the Prick rattled oot aw the good behaviour ticks and Beanpole stood oan a chair, shifting the pegs fur the lucky wans up the board. The previous Friday, eyebrows hid been raised when Baby and Patsy collected wan tick each. Baby hid sat and scowled at everywan within punching distance when his name wis read oot. Patsy hid been next. When the name McSwiggan wis shouted oot, none ae the Toonheid or Garngad crowd hid batted an eyelid because they hidnae a clue who the fuck it wis until it hid suddenly dawned oan Patsy that it wis him.
“That’s me!” he’d turned and hauf shouted at them wae a big grin splashed across that ugly coupon ae his.
“Bum-boy!” Joe hid muttered.
“Jealous prick,” Patsy hid retorted swiftly.
Bit it wis the next week that really set the heather alight though.
“Kelly, wan peg…nae leave. McSwiggan, wan peg…nae leave. Smith, wan peg…nae leave. O’Hara…two pegs…Saturday morning tae Saturday night leave.”
Everywan jist sat and gawped at Baby, who looked as if he’d jist been slapped, sitting there blinking wae embarrassment.
“Baby, ya dirty fucking cocksucker, ye. How many times did that fat arse ae yours get humped doon in that boiler room tae get that, eh?” Patsy squealed.
“Ah know, Patsy, and here’s you always saying Ah widnae ever get ma hole because Ah wis a fat basturt, eh?”
“You’ve goat a fucking cheek, McSwiggan. Who’s dick hiv you been sucking, ya wee cockroach, ye. That’s two ticks in two weeks,” Freckles chipped in.
“Aye, bit at least Ah didnae get fucking hame leave like Mr Michelin o’er there.”
“Listen, Bucktooth Boy, ye’ve jist goat tae try a wee bit harder, that’s aw,” Baby said tae Patsy, clearly chuffed wae the turn ae events.
“Well done, Baby!” Johnboy said tae him.
Everywan could tell that Baby wis right chuffed. He kept telling Patsy aw the things he wis gonnae get up tae when he wis back up in Roystonhill.
The second trigger fur a change in Johnboy’s situation happened when they wur lying aboot behind the stage, listening tae the shite songs being sung by The Thistle Park Players. Tony, Silent and Johnboy wur sitting wae their backs against the wall, below wan ae the windae sills. Joe wis lying, stretched oot in front ae them, wae his heid resting oan his haun, when he brought the subject ae Skull up.
“Ah wonder whit Mr Magoo wid look like noo,” Joe said tae nowan in particular.
“Still baldy, ugly and moaning like fuck, wearing that auld Partick Thistle jersey and his Celtic tammy,” Tony said wae a smile.
“He looks exactly the same as he did when we last saw him. He hisnae grown or changed wan bit, apart fae the tammy that is. He lost that in the fire,” Johnboy blurted oot, then cursed himsel under his breath.
“And how wid ye know that, professor?” Joe asked sarcastically.
“Because Ah met and spoke tae him the day Ah goat sentenced,” Johnboy replied, blushing.
The three ae them jist looked at each other and smiled.
“Ah’m telling youse. Ah saw and spoke tae him in the cells in Central the day Ah goat sentenced. Ye said ye wanted tae know whit wis wrang wae me? Well, that’s whit Ah’ve been haudin back oan,” Johnboy said, turning tae Tony.
Silence.
“Johnboy, ye speak a lot ae shite a lot ae the time, bit this takes the biscuit,” Joe retorted.
“Fuck aff, Joe. Ah know whit Ah saw. If ye don’t want tae believe me, so what? Who the fuck cares whit ye think anyhow?”
“Johnboy, ur ye seriously sitting there, trying tae tell us that ye spoke tae Skull?” Joe challenged him.
“Aye.”
“Ye’re full ae shite.”
“Fuck you, Joe!”
“Joe, shut the fuck up. Right, Johnboy. Tell us whit happened then,” Tony said.
“Am Ah, fuck. He’ll jist make oot Ah’m talking a heap ae shite.”
“Dae ye blame me?”
“Joe, shut the fuck up!” Tony growled at Joe, before turning back tae Johnboy.
“Oan ye go, Johnboy.”
Johnboy took a deep breath and launched intae telling them whit hid happened doon in the cells in Central the day he’d been sentenced. Everything jist burst oot ae that mooth ae his. The kick aboot wae his socks, sharing his tea and cheese pieces and whit Skull hid said aboot the fire and who done it. The three ae them hid jist sat, looking at Johnboy in silence, until Johnboy came tae the bit aboot how the fire started and Tiny and Horsey John being involved.
“Ah cannae believe we’re listening tae aw this shite. Everywan knows fine well that it wis they fucking bizzies that done the damage,” Joe said dismissively, looking at Tony.
“Aye, well, you believe whit ye want, Joe,” Johnboy spat.
“It sounds like some dream, that wan, Johnboy,” Tony said, smiling.
“Tony, Ah’m fucking telling ye, it wisnae a dream. Ah wis talking tae him, the way Ah’m bloody-well talking tae youse jist noo.”
“And ye reckon Skull wis aboot tae say who the other wan wis...in yer dream?”
“Ah swear oan ma ma’s life. This wisnae any dream.”
“Well, whitever it wis, who the fuck’s gonnae believe it?” Tony asked.
“Well, youse kin fucking believe me fur a start,” Johnboy retorted.
“Aye, right, Johnboy,” Joe chipped in.
“Johnboy, if ye’re saying it happened, fine. Aw Ah’m saying is, how the fuck wid ye be able tae prove it? It’s no exactly the strongest evidence Ah’ve heard in a long time, is it?” Tony said, a bit mair gently.
“Whit aboot ma wet socks then?”
“Whit aboot them?”
“Ma socks wur wet and lying flat oan the concrete bed tae dry oot. Ah know Ah never kicked them intae the toilet bowl.”
Silence.
“Ye’ll need tae try harder than that, Jackanory. Remember, this is coming fae the guy who gets up in the night and goes fur a wee walk when he’s still asleep,” Joe said, laughing.
“Fuck you, Joe, ya weasely prick.”
Johnboy could also see that Tony and Silent wur no convinced bit wurnae being as blatantly shitey towards him as Joe wis.
“Right, whit aboot Flypast then?” Johnboy challenged.
“Whit aboot him?”
“How wid Ah know that Skull met wae him efter leaving me that night doon in ma closemooth, eh?”
“How dae ye know he did?” Joe asked.
“Because Skull telt me. He said he bumped intae Flypast when Flypast wis oan the way back fae Sherbet’s, where he’d been buying a couple ae single fags fur his maw and that he went back wae
Flypast tae see his new doos. That’s the reason he wis late in getting back hame…because Flypast telt him the story fae years ago, aboot Skull’s da and the big Horseman Thief Pouter…and that’s why he hid tae sleep in the cabin that night, because his auld man hid locked the door and widnae let him in again,” Johnboy stammered before Joe could butt in again.
Silence.
“That’s aw very well, Johnboy, bit that isnae exactly proof is it? How the fuck wid we know whether he spoke wae Flypast or no?”
“We could always ask Flypast.”
“Aye, Ah’ll send him oot a wee note tae come and visit us tae tell us whit happened that night three years ago. Ah’m sure it’s plastered across his foreheid,” Joe said dismissively, laughing.
“Why the fuck dae ye think Ah’ve been so desperate tae get oot ae here and get back tae the toon, eh?”
“Johnboy, kiss ma arse!”
It wis jist as well that the bell went aff jist then, as Johnboy wis aboot tae fling himsel at Joe. Even though Joe wid probably hiv goat the better ae him, Johnboy wanted tae kick Joe’s heid in.
“C’mone, let’s go,” Tony said, staunin up, as the other three trooped efter him, doon the side ae the stage and oot the door.
The third result fur Johnboy happened that same night roond the snooker table. Johnboy hidnae spoken tae Joe since their wee pow-wow aboot Skull earlier in the day. Tae gie him his due, Joe hid avoided noising Johnboy up any mair and Johnboy hid kept oot ae Joe’s way. They wur aw playing doubles oan the snooker table. Freckles and Tottie wur supposed tae be playing Patsy and Minky, bit they’d been arguing fur ten minutes before a baw hid even been potted. Even though Johnboy wis still in the huff, he couldnae help laughing at Patsy dishing oot his advice tae his snooker partner.
“Right, Minky, ya smelly basturt, blue in the tap left hole, ya wrinkled tit, ye,” Patsy said efter the first red wis pocketed.
“Ah’m gonnae smash this fucking cue through they ugly buck teeth ae yours, if ye don’t stoap prattling oan tae me every time it’s ma shot. Ye’re bloody-well putting me aff.”
“Get oan wae it, Foreskin-Face and stoap dribbling and take yer shot. We hivnae goat aw bloody night, so we hivnae.”
Silent wis sitting between Johnboy and Joe oan the flair, watching the antics at the snooker table. Johnboy suspected that this wis tae keep himsel and Joe apart. Tony hid been sitting oan his lonesome maist ae the night, staring oot ae the windae at the thunderstorm that wis in full flow oan the other side ae the glass. Baby wis dancing up and doon, shaking that floppy belly ae his oan the other side ae the table, trying tae put Minky aff his shot.
“Baby, c’mere a minute,” Tony said, nodding tae Johnboy, Joe and Silent, efter plapping his arse oan tae the flair beside them.
“Baby, whit a fat basturt ye ur. How ur ye gonnae find a big wummin wae a fat arse tae match yours, eh?” Joe asked him pleasantly.
“Whit? Did Ah no tell ye, Joe? The only reason yer sister’s that thin is because Ah’ve been lying oan her fur the past two years before Ah came here.”
“Sit doon, Baby. Ah want tae ask ye tae dae me a wee favour,” Tony said, nodding tae the wide gap that he’d left fur Baby when he sat doon.
“Aye, whit is it?” Baby asked, sitting doon in the circle, looking roond the faces suspiciously.
“Ye know Flypast who’s goat the dookit oot the back ae Johnboy’s hoose in Montrose Street?”
“Whit aboot him?”
“Well, when ye go hame the morra, kin ye nip roond by and have a wee word wae him fur me?”
“Aboot whit?”
“Ask him whit happened the night Skull goat toasted in oor cabin.”
“Whit? Ye think Flypast wis involved?” Baby asked, blinking as he looked at them.
“Naw, it wis the bizzies, bit Ah want tae know if he spoke tae Skull before he heided up the road that night. If he did, ask him whit they spoke aboot and whit time Skull left tae go up the road…if he kin remember, that is. Hiv ye goat that?”
“Aye, Ah hear whit ye’re saying, Tony, bit there’s only wan problem though.”
“Whit?”
“How Ah’m Ah gonnae get word back tae ye?”
“How dae ye mean?”
“Ah’m no planning tae come back.”
Silence.
“Aw, fuck you, Baby,” Joe said.
“Naw, fuck you, Joe. Ye widnae dae this if it wis me asking any ae youse, wid ye?”
“Baby, Ah need ye tae come back the morra night. This is important,” Tony telt him.
“Tony, don’t say that. Ah’m sick ae this place. Ah want a wee break.”
“Ye’ll only get caught efter a few days anyway, ya fat useless prick. The bizzies will spot that fat arse ae yours fae hauf a mile away, so stoap fucking aboot,” Joe said helpfully.
“Ah cannae believe youse ur asking me tae dae this. Why is it so important, eh?”
“It jist is. Will ye dae it? Jist this wance?”
Silence.
“Youse basturts owe me wan fur this and it better be fucking good,” Baby said, jist as Patsy let oot a cheer and started dancing roond the snooker table.
“Right, get tae fuck, ya pair ae losers,” Patsy sang. “Right, Gucci, ya Atalian wanker, ye. Get that bum-boy Joe o’er here, till we whip they manky Toonheid arses ae yers.”
Chapter Eleven
She’d arrived earlier than she intended. She didnae want them tae think she wanted tae gloat, bit she wis mair than happy wae the turn ae events. It hid jist been o’er a month since the agreement tae try and get the hut-boys mair involved in the school regime. At first, she’d been happy and then she’d become suspicious. It hid jist aw seemed too easy. Wance Gucci hid gied the others the nod, the baw hid started rolling relatively quickly. That hidnae stopped the resistance fae maist ae the staff in the school, and that resentment still hidnae dissipated as the weeks hid gone by. There hid been a definite chill fae maist ae them when she’d come across them in the corridors or in the work detail squads. She’d spent the first couple ae weeks gaun roond the different work parties, talking tae the relevant staff members. Sandy Button still wisnae convinced, which wis understandable seeing as Taylor and Smith hid burgled his cadet hut and ran aff wae his uniforms, bit she hid felt a slight thawing in that quarter. Efter resigning himsel tae the inevitable, he’d said he’d test the water wae them o’er a period ae a month, which wis jist aboot up. Other than tae Smith, he hidnae awarded any good work detail ticks tae any ae the other three boys in his charge, despite encouragement fae her fur him tae try and see the bigger picture…bit he hidnae come back complaining tae her either. Jim Green, who wis in charge ae the greenhooses hid blown a gasket when McSwiggan hid hit the McMaster boy o’er the heid wae a pitch fork.
“That’s it, Miss Flaw. Ah knew this wis a daft idea. Ah want that wee thug oot ae ma greenhoose. He’ll end up killing somewan and wrecking ma good peach plants tae boot. Ah caught him eating two ae them the first morning he wis here,” he’d whined.
“Give me a week, Mr Green, please? If he doesn’t settle down by then, I’ll get him moved,” she’d pleaded, hating hersel fur fluttering they eyelashes ae hers at him.
“Well…bit Ah’m warning ye, any mair violence and he’s oot ae here.”
Badger Bailey in the boiler hoose hid been a total different story. She’d gone roond tae see him when the big loud wan, O’Hara, hid been at his lunch.
“He’s better than a bloody digger, so he is. Ah hiv tae tell him when tae hiv a tea break. Best worker Ah’ve ever hid, and Ah’ve hid some good wans in ma time. Aye, and he’s no a bad boy either, wance ye get tae know him. Ah jist don’t understaun whit aw the fuss is aboot. Mind you, Ah’m stuck doon here, oot ae the way, so Ah don’t get an opportunity tae find oot whit’s gaun oan maist ae the time,” he’d said.
She looked up as the door opened and they started tae troop in.
“Aye, ye’re early, Miss Flaw. Doon tae gloat, ur ye?” Mr Burns flippantly asked her.
“No, not at all, Mr Burns. I was already at this end of the building and didn’t see the point of going back to my office, just to hang about for five minutes,” she said, smiling sweetly.
“Right, Mr Bick. What have we got for this month then?” asked The Heidmaster, arriving oan the scene briskly, sitting doon and looking roond the table.
“Aye, it’s been a quieter month this November. Nine fights, nae absconders, nine liberations and seven admissions. No a bad month at aw…in fact, it’s the quietest month ae the year, so far,” he said, winking across at Fanny.
“And I see Miss Flaw is sitting there, preening herself as well, eh? So, how are her group of angels with the dirty faces getting on?” The Heidmaster asked, making Fanny blush.
