Parly Road: The Glasgow Chronicles 1

by Ian Todd

  Even the goody-goody wans, including Johnboy, who’d been facing her, kidding oan that they wur learning something, hid nearly shat themsels wae fright at the sound ae that screech. The skull’s heid hid shot back up aff the desk, blinked a couple ae times rapidly, yawned, smacked its lips and then slid straight back intae the usual ‘The Incredible Strange Creatures Who Stayed Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies’ expression that the rest ae the class put oan five minutes efter they entered Olive Oyl’s classroom every morning. Johnboy hid been fair impressed, because new pupils who started in Olive’s class usually took at least the morning and hauf the efternoon before getting that look doon tae a ‘T’. Thank God he’d cracked it, Johnboy remembered thinking tae himsel that first morning ae Skull’s arrival, as he dodged the crush in the classroom door as the bell went fur their break at eleven o’clock.

  “Aye, hellorerr Tony,” Charlie Chaplin said, staunin there in his auld Jags jersey tap and size ten fitba boots, still trying unsuccessfully tae keep his troosers fae falling doon, first wae wan haun, then the other and then wae the baith ae them, as he walked o’er tae where Johnboy and Tony wur staunin in the playground.

  “Skull, ya wee baldy, twisted, basturt…how ur ye daeing? Ah didnae think ye’d end up here till efter the summer holidays at least,” Tony said in surprise, smiling.

  “Naw, they couldnae wait tae get rid ae me and Betty…the wankers,” Skull replied.

  There wis nae doubt aboot it, Skull wis a playground stoapper. Wance people clocked that heid and they fitba boots, they didnae know whether tae laugh or be feart ae him.

  “Whit? Betty’s here as well?” Tony asked, surprised.

  “Aye, she goat caught stealing a teacher’s purse oot ae a handbag in the staff room. Ye hivnae seen her, hiv ye?”

  “She’ll be in the lassies’ playground o’er there. This is Johnboy who Ah wis telling ye aboot,” Tony said, nodding in Johnboy’s direction.

  “Aye, Ah know…we’re in the same class,” Skull sniffed, ignoring Johnboy and looking aboot.

  Before Johnboy could say something tae impress him, a well-known fat basturt who enjoyed flicking poor wee innocents’ ears, came waddling past them, trying tae look aw innocent, while stuffing his fat cheeks wae two heels ae a loaf wae aboot ten pounds ae red cheese in the middle.

  “Hoi, you…aye, you, Fat Boy!” Skull said, staunin in front ae him.

  “Er, ur ye speaking tae me?” Tarzan wae the fat arse said, looking sick because he knew whit wis coming or at least hauf suspected.

  “Haun o’er that breid,” David wae the size ten fitba boots said tae Goliath wae the fat cheeks and even fatter arse, adding fur good measure, “and don’t furget the snake belt.”

  “Bit, bit...”

  “Nae bit, bits and hurry up, Tubby,” Skull said, swiping the lump ae breid and cheese wae wan haun, while keeping a haud ae his troosers in case they fell doon wae the other.

  There wis a wee flash ae the auld defiance in Fat Boy’s beady eyes, bit it soon vanished when he clocked Tony staunin there, watching silently.

  “Bit how will Ah keep ma troosers fae falling doon?” the whinging whingerer whinged.

  “How the hell am Ah supposed tae know?” Skull snarled, nonchalantly looking aboot fur another victim, while ripping another bit ae the breid aff wae they teeth ae his and gulping it doon like a hungry seagull.

  Johnboy wis torn between watching Skull scoff the fat-fingered-ear-flickerer’s play piece oan the wan haun or watching amused as Tub Boy attempted tae pull his snake belt through the loops withoot his troosers hitting the painted penalty spot underneath his feet.

  “Right, fuck aff before yer shoes join the same club as yer belt,” Skull said casually, wrapping the snake belt roond his waist three times before finally managing tae hook the snake’s heid oan tae its tail.

  Johnboy wis jist wondering whit wid happen if he bumped intae Fat Boy oan a dark night oan his lonesome when the bell rang.

  “Wis that piece good?” Johnboy asked Skull, trying tae say something intelligent tae make a good impression as they heided back tae class.

  “It could’ve been daeing wae a wee bit ae broon sauce.”

  “Ye’re something else, Skull,” Tony said, as him and Johnboy grinned at each other before they disappeared in through the double doors.

  It hidnae taken Johnboy long tae realise that he wis in amongst professionals. Efter another session ae sleeping wae their eyes open, the bell brought them back tae life. Johnboy heided doon tae the school office wae Skull tae pick up Skull’s dinner ticket. As they wur heiding oot ae the office tae go doon tae the dining hall, Batty heard the sound that wis awready becoming a legend in the school.

  “Boy?”

  “Who? Me?” they baith chimed at the same time.

  “You with the shoes that sound like maracas.”

  “Who? Me?” they baith chimed again.

  “Don’t be so bloody stupid, Taylor,” Batty snarled at Johnboy, clearly irritated at the lack ae intelligence being displayed in front ae him. “That’s not football boots we’re wearing, is it?” Batty demanded, looking at Skull’s feet.

  Johnboy wid’ve loved Skull tae hiv done a wee tap dance, bit realised that Skull must’ve goat the message fae the look oan the auld crackpot’s face that it widnae be a good idea tae fuck aboot.

  “Aye, they ur, sir.”

  “There will be no football boots worn anywhere in the school, including the corridors.”

  “Bit they’re aw Ah’ve goat, sir.”

  “Don’t speak back to me, you insolent roach! Don’t let me catch you wearing football boots in my school again!” Cricket Baw Heid screamed, spit flying everywhere.

  And wae that, Batty disappeared back intae his office, muttering something aboot only hivving a week tae go.

  By the time they goat doon tae the dining hut, it wis pishing doon wae rain. Everywan wis in full flight, singing ‘Why Ur We Waiting?’ tae nae effect. As usual, wance everywan wis soaked, the door slowly opened against the crush ae the crowd and aw those who wur staunin in front wur aw pushed back aboot four feet.

  “Right, paid pink wans tae the front and the free broon wans tae the back,” shouted Fat Marge, the assistant cook wae the goatee beard and side-burns.

  Wance the pink paid crowd haunded o’er their paid pink tickets and disappeared through the door tae their pink paid section, the door slammed shut again. Efter another fifty verses ae ‘Why Ur We Waiting?’ and roughly two days later, the bearded lady’s heid reappeared again.

  “Right, line up…in ye come and hiv yer tickets at the ready.”

  The free broon tickets hid wee boxes alang the bottom that said Monday tae Friday. Each day, when ye went in, Hairy Face clipped the box fur that day wae wee plier clippers wae teeth oan them.

  Wance inside, the pink paying wans wur always oan their puddings by the time Johnboy and his pals plapped their arses doon. By the time they wur finished their meal, hauf the place wis empty. It wis then that Johnboy found oot whit a genius looked like. Skull suddenly stood up.

  “Right, Ah’ll take the far row and youse kin fight between yersels as tae who gets the other two,” he announced tae Tony and Johnboy.

  Wae that, he walked aff and started tae get torn intae the lefto’er puddings in the bowls that wur sitting, uncollected, oan the paid pink tables. It wis then that the penny drapped wae Johnboy. Whoever hid thought up the wan aboot keeping the free tickets tae the end should’ve been awarded a medal. It wis only a pity that it hid taken Johnboy hauf a lifetime ae eating in the place tae find oot aboot the rich rewards scattered roond aboot him.

  “Here, Skull, is that no yer big sister, Betty, doon there?” Tony said, burping efter finishing his seventh bowl ae Sago and before starting oan his next wan.

  “So, that’s where she’s goat tae,” Skull said, grinning, as they watched Betty, o’er the tap ae their spoons, putting her empty bowl doon before moving oan tae the next empty table in the pink paid section.


  That wis the first time since Johnboy wis five that he’d left the dining hut feeling less hungry than when he went in.

  Chapter Eleven

  Helen hidnae been able tae sleep the night before fur thinking aboot poor Mary MacDonald. At least she’d hid Jimmy tae support her while Mary wis oan her tod wae five weans. It jist didnae seem fair fur a young wummin tae be oan her ain and dealing wae aw that grief. The first warrant sale wis always the worst, although in Helen’s case, it wisnae until the third time that their names appeared in the paper that they’d hid their first actual sale. Helen’s auld man hid gone ape-shit the first time he’d clocked their name and address in The Evening Times. He’d sent Helen’s maw roond the same night, demanding tae know how much tic they owed and then hid paid it aff the next day at the Sheriff Officers’ office doon in Bath Street while he wis oan his delivery run wae Barr’s. Tae make matters worse, his run wis in the east end ae the city and he’d hid tae park his lorry in the middle ae Bath Street in the city centre where there wisnae any shoaps that sold Irn Bru. He’d taken a crate ae American Cream Soda intae the office as a cover, jist in case he bumped intae anywan he knew. Unfortunately, in his haste tae get oot ae the place, he’d furgoatten the soda. His gaffer hid called him in the next day and asked him tae go and pick up the crate fae the Sheriff Officers’ in Bath Street and hidnae asked any questions. Her da hidnae spoken tae Helen and Jimmy fur six months that time. The second time hid really taken the biscuit though. Helen hid helped her maw tae remove their warrant sale notice fae the newspaper before he’d arrived hame fae his work. He’d jist sat doon fur his usual tea ae toast and scrambled eggs, when he’d started turning the pages back and forward wae a puzzled frown oan his brow.

  “Some selfish toe-rag’s stolen part ae ma paper,” he’d declared in disbelief.

  “How dae ye work that wan oot then?” her maw hid asked, looking up fae her People’s Friend which she goat every week fae auld Izzie next door.

  “Look, wan, two, three, four, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen and twenty,” he’d said, turning the pages back and fore, inside and oot wae a puzzled look oan that auld lined face ae his.

  “Aye?” Maw hid asked innocently.

  “Whit dae ye mean, aye?”

  “Ur ye sure?”

  “Of course Ah’m bloody sure!” Da hid shouted.

  “Don’t bloody swear at me!” Maw hid shot back, banging her haun doon oan the table, gieing the toast and scrambled eggs a wee dance in the hope ae distracting him.

  “Right, that’s it, Ah’ll be back in a jiffy,” he’d grumbled, as he heided oot the door, muttering under his breath.

  “Yer tea will get cauld,” Maw hid shouted at his back as the door slammed behind him.

  Five minutes later, Montgomery ae Alamein hid arrived back, hiving sorted oot the situation and hid gone back tae where he wis earlier. Maw hid watched him, silently exaggerating each turn ae the pages, wan by wan, savouring his victory, as she held her breath, heid still in The People’s Friend.

  “Aw, fur God’s sake…no again!”

  “Whit?”

  “Helen and that waster man ae hers ur in the warrant sales section again.”

  “Let me see,” Maw hid said, pretending tae read, even though he knew she couldnae read or write. He wid read her the stories fae her People’s Friend in bed at night because she said she liked the sound ae his voice.

  “Did you know aboot this?” he’d growled, trying tae suss oot if she wis in cahoots wae Helen.

  “Noo, how wid Ah know? Ah hivnae saw Helen since last week,” Maw hid lied, hivving hatched the pages-kidnap wae Helen at hauf five when she’d come running roond tae warn her and borrow four pounds tae tap up the nine she awready managed tae raise tae pay aff the Sheriff officers.

  “Right, that’s it…they’re bloody finished. Ah’m no putting up wae any mair ae this shite again, hivving tae face the neighbours, knowing they aw know oor business.”

  “Well, Ah widnae worry aboot whit the neighbours think, given that none ae them like ye anyway. When wis the last time ye said ‘hello’ tae any ae them or even gied any ae the weans up the close any ae they sweeties that ye’re always picking up through yer work?”

  “Ah’m telling ye…Ah’m finished wae them and don’t ye dare help them oot this time.”

  “Don’t cut yer nose aff tae spite yer face, ya auld git, ye. Ye’ve only wan daughter and there’s the grandweans tae think aboot.”

  “Ah’m saying nae mair aboot it and another thing, don’t ever sabotage ma paper behind ma back again.”

  “Ach, away and bile yer heid, Adolf,” hid been the last word oan the subject that night.

  The third time hid been too close fur comfort. The sale hid come aboot a week efter Helen hid started talking tae the auld man again. They hidnae spoken fur aboot a year and probably still widnae be talking if he hidnae bumped intae Johnboy in Curley’s up oan Parly Road. Although the falling oot hid been nothing tae dae wae the weans, the boys hidnae hid much contact wae him, though Helen’s maw used tae go roond tae Montrose Street wance or twice a week. The girls usually went roond oan a Saturday tae her maw and da’s tae get their pocket money ae ninepence tae spend and ninepence tae get them intae the pictures, plus they always goat a bar ae Cadbury’s chocolate each. The boys stoapped getting when Charlie wis six and goat black-balled fur telling his granda tae fuck aff when they wur oan the tram coming back fae the Christmas circus at Kelvingrove Hall. This hid been oan tap ae him telling Coco the Clown, through the microphone, that his da hid telt him that his granda wis a stingy auld basturt, which Jimmy hid denied ever saying. Johnboy hid fallen oot wae his granda because the only bar left, wance the lassies hid chosen their chocolate, wis coffee flavoured. Helen’s maw always goat oan tae her da aboot the coffee flavoured wan, bit every week the fourth bar wis always the same. Her da hid always made it clear that he preferred the lassies.

  Oan the day ae the big bust up, Johnboy hid been staunin in the queue in Curley’s when he’d spotted his granda. As the queue worked its way roond the walls he’d said, “Hello Granda.”

  The auld grumpy git hid looked at him and said, “Ah’m no yer granda, son. Ah don’t hiv any grandweans.”

  Wae that, Helen’s da hid walked oot ae the shoap wae his groceries. When Johnboy telt Helen whit hid happened, she’d shot aff roond tae their hoose and let fly.

  “Don’t you ever, ever claim ye’re no ma weans’ granda ever again, ya nasty auld basturt!” she’d screeched at him.

  “Helen, Helen, darling, Ah widnae dae such a thing,” he’d whined, denying everything.

  “Ye bloody ignored that poor wean when he spoke tae ye in Curley’s, in front ae everywan and denied ye wur his granda,” she’d raged at him.

  “Naw, naw, it wis an easy mistake tae make, darling. Ah didnae recognise him until it wis too late and Ah wis oot ae the shoap. It’s been o’er a year since Ah last saw him. It wis an honest mistake, hen…honest,” he’d prattled oan.

  Wan thing hid led tae another and wance Helen hid calmed doon, they’d aw ended up in tears, including her maw.

  Her maw hid telt her later that efter Helen hid left, he’d picked up his newspaper and spotted the impending sale, which wis tae take place the following week. She said that he’d jist stiffened aw ae a sudden, before turning the page and carrying oan reading.

  Oan the day ae the sale, a couple ae wee scrawny Sheriff officers hid turned up at aboot hauf past wan. They’d warned Helen that she’d be held responsible fur any threats or intimidation tae buyers who might turn up, including any interference that might take place doon at the closemooth. She’d jist ignored them and made oot that she wis gaun aboot her business. A few days earlier, they’d gone roond the hoose looking at Helen’s furniture, putting ridiculously low prices oan aw her good stuff, such as two pounds oan her lovely radiogram that hid cost eighteen new. They’d put the cooker doon fur five bob and the weans’ beds wur two a
nd a tanner each…the cheeky buggers. When Jimmy hid heard that, he’d gone ballistic, bit hid calmed doon when she’d telt him she’d deliberately no cleaned the cooker since they’d been informed aboot the sale, jist tae make sure that it looked as if a scabby cat widnae eat aff ae it.

  A crowd hid gathered early at the closemooth wance the Sheriff officers hid entered and heided up the stairs tae her hoose. The crowd hidnae been potential customers, bit jist the lassies fae the street and beyond, waiting tae gie people a noisy welcome if they turned up fur the sale. Betty fae next door hid been first aff the mark when a couple turned up in a van.

  “Away ye go, ya pair ae slugs,” she’d shouted.

  “Get tae fuck, ya pair ae leeches. There’s nae bargains tae be had here.”

  “Bloodsuckers!”

  They hidnae even goat oot ae the van bit hid turned aroond in the Allan Glen’s car park opposite and hid disappeared pretty quickly.

  Wan ae the lassies thought she’d seen Mick the Maggot fae Paddy’s Market turning intae the street at the bottom bit couldnae be sure. Even Helen wid’ve punched him oot if he’d turned up…Sheriff officers present or no.

  The only other wans that hid been prepared tae walk through the protesting gauntlet wis an English couple called Fairbanks. He never said anything and wis the type that ye furgoat two seconds efter ye clapped eyes oan him. The wife hid spoken wae whit seemed tae Helen at the time tae be a phony posh accent. She wis tall and skinny wae short dark hair and hid a right sleekit look aboot her. Despite aw the snarling fae the girls doon in the closemooth, they’d come in wae their price list in wan haun and a wean each in their other haun and hid wandered aboot her hoose, ignoring Helen’s presence, despite the obvious stress that must’ve been oan show at the time. Helen hid heard her asking wan ae the officers if they wid ‘consider a reduced job lot price’.

  “We’d be happy tae accept any reasonable offer at the end ae the day, should ye wish tae put wan forward,” she’d heard him reply encouragingly.