by Todd, Ian
“Is it an owl?”
“Yes.”
“It’s gorgeous, so it is,” Helen murmured, caressing the owl’s face.
“I’m desperately putting together enough pieces for an exhibition down in London in two months from now. I’m way behind.”
“Oh, look, Ah better go. Ah kin tell that ye’re busy,” Helen said apologetically.
“No, no, let’s go and have that cup of tea,” Susan said, ushering Helen back oot through the door.
When they wur back in the warm kitchen and sitting, sipping their tea, Susan smiled across at Helen.
“Whit?”
“I’m dreadfully sorry, Helen. I’m smiling because my daughter, Eleanor, isn’t here. She’ll be awfully upset that she missed you. She left to go back to university this morning. She’s been interrogating her father since before Christmas about you.”
“Me?”
“Oh, yes. Donald has been telling anyone who will listen what an amazing women you are.”
“Me?” Helen repeated, blushing.
“I believe that you’ve been campaigning against those dreadful warrant sales?”
“Ach, well, Ah’ve been known tae get involved here and there, aye.”
“Donald’s been struggling to get the women...and men, in the Kirk more involved in the community, other than organising coffee mornings, while you’ve managed to mobilise half of his older ladies in the congregation to take part in a street demonstration against the injustices of warrant sales. It’s truly beyond belief, considering that most of their politics are to the right of Attila The Hun,” Susan said, smiling.
“Well, Ah must admit, it wis smashing tae see aw the auld wans turn up...and The Reverend as well, of course.”
“The ladies have been asking him when the next one is.”
“Well, aw they need tae dae is buy an Evening Times or Evening Citizen, any day ae the week. The pages ur full ae them. There’s two taking place in Springburn next week.”
“Will you be arranging a demonstration against them?”
“Aye, we’ll be there.”
“Would you mind if I joined you?”
“Susan, that wid be great, so it wid. The mair the merrier, that’s whit Ah always say.”
“I’m not sure the ladies buy The Evening Times or Citizen. I think Donald wants to keep them organised and together as a group, behind someone they’ll respect, rather than them dashing off individually.”
“Oh, right. Well, Ah suppose the main thing is that they’re getting involved, irrespective ae who leads them. Ah could dae wae a leader masel. Hauf the time Ah don’t know whether Ah’m coming or gaun, so Ah don’t.”
“Helen, Donald doesn’t see himself leading them. He sees someone like you doing that, far better than he ever could. He’s just amazed that those little leaflets that you distributed outside the church actually managed to motivate people to get out and do something.”
“Ah must admit the lassies wur a wee bit surprised tae see the auld wans piling oot ae they cars. When they clocked the cars drawing up, they thought it wis mair Sheriff officers coming tae swamp them. It widnae be the first time, so it widnae.”
“Why don’t you keep me posted on what is happening and I’ll pass on any information to the ladies in the congregation at this end. I believe that the ones who were at the recent sale are trying to increase their numbers for the next one.”
“Really? Jeez, that’s amazing, so it is.”
“Is there anything I…we…can do meantime?”
“If Ah drap aff some mair leaflets, could ye pass them oot amongst the congregation... and maybe yer pals?”
“Of course I can. It’s the least I can do. Is there any message for Donald that you would like me to pass on?”
“Aye, kin ye tell him that Ah’ve heard oan good authority that the gravediggers doon at Sighthill cemetery ur probably gonnae doon tools the morra and Ah wis wondering how he felt aboot daeing the funeral at a later date. It aw depends oan whether Issie, er, Mrs McManus, wants tae go aheid wae a cremation insteid oan Wednesday. It’s aw up in the air, so it is, until Ah kin find oot mair. If it wis delayed, he’d also hiv tae re-book wan ae the rooms in the wee community hall beside the Springburn Public Halls while he’s at it. Ah’ll be clearer the morra, so Ah should be able tae let him know the details as soon as Ah get them masel.”
“Of course I’ll pass that on, Helen. Now then, how about another cup of tea?”
“Only if Ah kin come oot tae the shed and see ye welding wan ae they fancy feathers oan tae that owl’s wing.”
“I’ll do better than that. You can have a go. It’s called tacking. It’s not as difficult as men make out.”
“Aye, well, there’s a surprise, eh?” Helen drawled, as the baith ae them burst oot laughing.
Chapter Twenty Five
The Reverend Donald Flaw took a sip ae his tea as JP Donnelly carried his ain cup and saucer across and sat opposite him. The Reverend looked at the man who wis a political legend in his ain lifetime. JP hid been a cooncillor since the 1930s. He’d been aroond the block a few times, as they say. He’d hid a distinguished career as a Justice ae The Peace in Glesga, up until the mid tae late sixties, when he’d been caught up in the eftermath ae the corruption scandal that hid wiped oot hauf the city’s politicians and senior polis officers. JP wis wan ae the few who’d been caught up in it, bit hid somehow managed tae walk away unscathed. The Reverend hid heard that whit hid helped save JP hid been the fact that JP’s constituency in the Toonheid wis being demolished due tae the Inner Ring Road being built, JP’s advancing age and the fact that he’d announced his retirement fae politics. Although JP wisnae wan ae his congregation, oan account ae him being a Catholic, he still hid great influence oan the elders ae the Kirk. Hivving retired fae politics and civic duty hidnae slowed him doon. He wis still very influential in certain quarters. He’d been Dick Mulholland’s right-haun man at the local election the previous year when Mulholland hid routed the opposition, despite hivving been seriously ill wae cancer at the time. Some people hid whispered that it wis a cynical ploy oan JP’s part tae assist Mulholland wae his campaign, knowing the state ae his health. It wis also widely accepted that withoot JP’s involvement, Dick Mulholland wid probably no hiv been elected. The Reverend hid buried Dick Mulholland a few weeks before Christmas, efter he’d succumbed tae his illness.
“Reverend, thanks fur coming roond. It’s good tae see ye and tae be able tae hiv a wee quiet chin-wag, away fae the hustle and bustle ae the Kirk, eh?”
“You’re welcome, JP. A nice cup of tea is just the thing on a cold and windy day like today. Your good health,” The Reverend said, raising his cup tae his lips.
“Aye, ye kin keep aw yer tea in China. Gie me ma Brooke Bond any day, that’s whit Ah say,” JP said, smacking his lips and taking his time in getting tae the point.
“And your daughter, Sally? She’s fine, JP?”
“Ach, Sally’s gaun strong as ever, so she is. She’s fairly moving up the greasy pole in the Sally Army noo, and no before time. Ah suspect it’s aw the good work she’s being daeing doon in The Tontine Hotel fur aw they doon and oots, as well as aw the money she raises fur they poor wee weans oot in Africa.”
“Yes, she’s something else, is your Sally, JP,” The Reverend said, avoiding JP’s quizzical look.
“Right, well, Ah suppose ye’ll be wondering why Ah wanted tae hiv a wee quiet word wae ye roond here and no up at the church?”
“The thought did cross my mind, JP.”
“Ah’m a bit concerned, so Ah am.”
“About?”
“Aboot yersel and some ae the auld wans fae the congregation turning up at Mary Porter’s warrant sale up in Endricks Street oan Christmas Eve. Her that hisnae paid a bill up front in her life, so she hisnae. It wis nae different when her man wis alive and working either.”
“Oh?”
“Aye, Ah nearly drapped doon deid where Ah wis staunin when Ah heard. It’s a wonder they d
idnae hiv tae carry me oot ae the chapel feet first.”
“Well, I couldn’t let the ladies go unaccompanied. It had been their wish to attend.”
“Ah knew Harry Johnston fur o’er forty five years. He’ll be turning in his grave at the thought ae his Marjory turning up tae something like that. He wis a Tory, bit he wis still a decent person aw the same. Ah could see the point if her and the other auld wans wur there tae demonstrate against that unruly mob, bit tae actually join in? God, whitever next?”
“So, what’s your point, JP?”
“Ma point is that we’ll hiv tae nip this in the bud, before it gets oot ae haun. Who ever heard ae a bunch ae auld Tory widows taking part in a demo against warrant sales, eh?”
“I’m still not sure that I’m following you, JP?”
“The auld wans in the congregation? Whit Ah want tae know is, whit ur ye gonnae be daeing aboot it?”
“I’m sorry, JP, but I wasn’t going to do anything about it. Both Susan and I think that it’s wonderful that the women…the congregation…are getting involved in something so morally right. Warrant sales are an abomination in this day and age. I’m surprised at your hostility regarding their involvement, given your socialist principles.”
“Look, Ah agree wae ye in that nowan agrees wae warrant sales, bit how else is The Corporation gonnae claw back the money that it’s owed? If everywan decided no tae pay their rent, where wid that leave The Corporation? Who else is gonnae build hooses fur the poor and needy?”
“I’m well aware that there’s a demand for quality houses, including rebuilds, JP, but the answer is not to make things worse by evicting tenants who are in arrears because they can’t afford the rents. How can putting people out on to the streets help the homeless?”
“If the wans who’re refusing tae pay whit everywan else his tae ur evicted, then it’s their ain fault. Ye cannae expect tae live in good hoosing stock and no pay yer fair share, the same as everywan else.”
“I’m sorry, JP. There must be a better way than selling children’s beds from under them. I can’t subscribe to that as a church minister…or as a human being.”
“Ye might be a minister ae the church, Reverend, bit ye’ve nae mair claim oan God than any ae the rest ae us. Ma family, including ma dear departed wife and ma daughter, Sally, hiv raised untold thousands fur charity o’er the years, withoot looking fur any thanks fur oor efforts.”
“Oh, come on, JP. Can you hear what you’ve just said? This has nothing to do with religious ownership. This is about out-dated social practices that any decent society should have outlawed in a different century...surely?”
“Naw, Reverend, this is politics. And if Ah’m no mistaken, we live in a secular society where religion and politics don’t and shouldnae mix.”
“I’m afraid we’ll have to disagree on that one. My conscience tells me differently. Society is made up of broad spectrums, and subjugating those too weak to defend themselves should be a concern to everyone…including the church.”
“She’s goat tae ye, hisn’t she?”
“Who?”
“That bitc...er...wummin.”
“What woman?”
“That Taylor wan and aw her foul-moothed, hairy cronies. Dae ye really know whit ye’re dealing wae there? That wan should’ve been put doon at birth.”
“JP! My God, I just can’t believe what I’ve just heard from you. Surely you don’t mean that?”
“Look, Ah’ve hid dealings wae that wan’s family aw ma life, so Ah hiv. In fact, she’s been the bane ae ma life fur years. Ah still wake up in a sweat at night, so Ah dae. If ye hid any idea ae the abuse and slander that Ah’ve hid tae put up wae o’er the years because ae her and her toe-rag bunch ae hairy misfits. She practically single-haundedly ran me oot ae politics...left me and ma political life in ruins.”
“JP, I didn’t come here to fight or upset you. I’ve spoken to the woman. To see her commitment and support for her neighbours is...is, well, quite inspirational.”
“Inspirational? Did ye jist say inspirational? If ye hid any idea whit that wummin put me and ma family through, ye’d feel ashamed ae whit ye’ve jist come oot wae. She’s kicked, bit and stormed against everything that we…aye, you and me…staun fur. She widnae know how tae spell decency if it slapped her in the mooth. She’s assaulted no only ma family, bit terrorised aw they poor Sheriff officers o’er the years and fur whit? Only daeing the job they’ve been asked tae dae oan behauf ae us aw. She’s been lifted fur being violent tae the polis, fined, jailed, warned mair times than anywan kin remember aboot her abusive ways and yet she still persists. Ask anywan, if ye don’t believe me.”
“JP, look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come here and upset you. It was the ladies from the congregation who came to me. They wanted to attend and I didn’t feel it was my place to try and dissuade them…even if I wanted to.”
“When Ah wis younger, jist making ma wae in politics, Ah hid many a run-in wae an auld auntie ae hers back in the Toonheid before the war. She wis another foul-moothed brazen hussy that spoke wae a forked tongue. Noo, Ah thought she wis twisted, bit this wan takes the biscuit, so she dis. Yer new pal comes fae a long line ae schemers. Everything she touches turns tae rust, so it dis. Ah’m telling ye, Reverend, ye don’t know whit ye're dealing wae here. That wan is mair rabid than a scabby hyena, so she is. Efter ye leave here, jist go and stoap yer ordinary man and wummin in the street and ask them whit that Taylor bitc...er…wan his ever done fur anywan aboot here that hisnae involved disturbing the peace and bringing the community intae disrepute wae them in authority.”
“I will, I promise.”
“And the auld yins?”
“What about them?”
“Ye’ll speak tae them aboot aw this nonsense that they’re mixed up wae and put them aff gaun anywhere near that viper and her cronies.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that, JP. They wouldn’t respect me if I did that. As you said yourself, I’m a minister of the church and must remain neutral, but if a parishioner, of whatever political persuasion, requests my advice or assistance, I’ll do my best to accommodate them...within reason.”
“Ach well, Ah suppose that’s fair enough, bit Ah’ll tell ye right noo, Reverend, Ah’ll be hivving a word wae Marjory Johnston and they other wans...Edna Thompson and whit’s her name...Rachel Matheson. If ye’re no prepared tae dae it, then Ah will.”
“I’m sure the ladies will welcome your advice and guidance, JP,” The Reverend said soothingly.
“Aye, Ah suppose they will. Right, noo, doon tae business. The other reason that Ah asked ye roond wis jist tae gie ye the heids up and tae let ye know that the date ae the election fur Dick Mulholland’s vacant Corporation seat will be announced the morra, so it will,” JP announced. “It’ll be oan Friday, the 29th January, so it will.”
“Oh, so soon? I thought they might have waited a little longer to allow Mrs Mulholland more time to get over her loss.”
“Well, it wid normally be a bit later than this, bit as Ah said tae Tam Barnet, doon in the elections office in The Corporation yesterday, why wait? Ah’m glad he’s obviously seeing sense. There’s nae use dragging yer heels when ye kin be running…that’s whit Ah’ve always said.”
“And do we know who else will be running?”
“Ach, the usual dross fae the other side, who’ll start tae come oot ae the widwork.”
“And from your side?”
“Why, it’ll be me, Reverend. Ah’m staunin as the independent ‘Labour Born and Bred’ candidate, so Ah am. And Ah’ll be looking forward tae you and Mrs Flaw’s endorsement...especially amongst the congregation. This will be a good opportunity tae get the kitchen and toilets in the hall refurbished, if we play oor cards right, eh?”
Chapter Twenty Six
The Reverend turned intae Gourlay Street, oan route tae Mrs McManus’s. Although it wis freezing, he’d slowly been making his way doon Springburn Road, popping intae the different shoaps tae wish everywan festiv
e cheer. By the time he’d reached the ticket office at Springburn train station, a consensus ae opinion hid awready become apparent.
“Aye, aye, Reverend,” Joe McQueen, the ticket clerk, hid said when The Reverend hid appeared behind the last traveller at the end ae the queue.
“And a good day to you too, Joe,” he’d replied.
“So, whit kin Ah dae ye oot ae the day then, Reverend?”
“Joe, can I ask you a question?”
“Fire away.”
“If you or Mrs McQueen had a problem that you required help with, who would you turn to?”
“Oh, Ah don’t know. If we couldnae sort it oot oorsels, we’d maybe, at a push, come tae yersel or Mrs Flaw. Why?”
“But, what if Susan and I were away and it was an emergency...like having to deal with The Corporation or having to apply for a loan...something like that?”
“Oh, that’s an easy wan, so it is.”
“Yes?”
“Dae ye know Helen Taylor? The red haired lassie that lives o’er in Carlisle Street, opposite the Cowlairs Bowling Green? She’s the wan everywan aboot here goes and speaks tae fur help. There isnae anything she disnae know aboot dealing wae The Corporation. Ye want help filling in a form? Speak tae her. Being hassled by the tic-men? She’ll keep ye right, so she will. Ma sister-in-law, Bella, wis up tae her eyes in debt and wis being threatened by The Corporation. Helen went aw the way doon tae the hoosing department in George’s Square wae her and goat it aw sorted oot it in a flash, so she did. Mind you, her tactics kin maybe be a wee bit iffy at times, bit she gets the job done, so she dis.”
“What did she do at the housing office?”
“Well, wae that sister-in-law ae mine in tow, she telt the boy in hoosing that if he didnae gie Bella an extension in paying aff her arrears, she wis gonnae put thegither the biggest demonstration ootside Bella’s close, up in Carleston Street, that The Corporation and Springburn hid ever seen,” Joe hid replied, chuckling.
