by Ian Todd
“Brilliant!”
“Fucking stoater, Johnboy. Well done!”
When the laughter and excitement died doon, everywan looked o’er at Tony.
“If it’s that tit’s maw’s birthday, then aw the Murphys and everywan else will be at the booze-up.”
“Including Horsey John and Tiny?”
“Everywan will be there...mark ma words.”
“Aye, they’ve even goat a famous pop group playing,” Johnboy said, tae mair cheers, laughter and commotion.
The shite wis definitely piling up beside they crops in the cages by that stage.
“We’ll be able tae dance across that roof and nowan will hear us,” Skull said, showing the rest ae them the Charlie Chaplin hussle dance that he’d planned tae be daeing across the ridge ae the roof.
It wis a cross between a tap-dance and the dance ae a drunken jakey, wae wobbly legs.
“He’s goat a point. The pub’s only aboot three hunner and twenty steps fae the closemooth. Everywan in the area who disnae like music will hiv their tellys turned up tae the limit,” Tony, the Professor, said knowingly.
“Aye, and ye’ll no be wearing they fitba boots oan Saturday night either, Skull. We don’t want ye skiting aff that roof wae they worn studs oan yer feet.”
“Don’t worry, Ah’ll wear ma good ‘White Heather Show’ wans.”
“Ye’re a fucking genius, working oot that distance, Tony,” Joe said. “Ah widnae hiv thought ae that.”
“Aye, there’s no wan ae me born every day, so there’s no.”
“So, whit’s next then?”
“Furget waiting tae see Flypast oan Thursday. Ah’ll heid o’er tae see him the morra morning. Johnboy, nip in by oan yer way hame and let him know that Ah’ll be o’er, bit don’t tell him whit’s gaun oan at this end. Okay?”
“Fine.”
“In the meantime, we need tae track doon Calum. He’ll know whit the fuck’s gaun oan.”
Chapter Forty Four
“Is that the maw she’s wae?” asked The Sarge.
“Aye, she’s no like that bloody bitch ae a daughter ae hers.”
“Hiv ye spoken tae her before like?”
“The auld wan? Oh, aye…she’s a nice auld hag…always goat a pleasant word fur everywan and wid gie ye the last penny oot ae her purse. Seemingly, she’d a sister that stood against JP fur the cooncil way back in the thirties, wid ye believe? He says he still his nightmares aboot her.”
“Oh?”
“Aye, bit he fucked her good and proper at the end ae the day, although he did say that it wis touch-and-go.”
“So, whit happened tae her?”
“Ah’m no sure. She wis some sort ae a nurse and went tae Spain and goat hersel killed. JP said the party he’d thrown when he heard the news wis bigger than the wan he hid when he won the election.”
“Aye, JP’s never wan tae furget a slight, so he isnae.”
“The maw’s man drives a lorry fur Barr’s. A grumpy auld shitehoose, who’s furever moaning and who ye widnae trust as far as ye could fling him. He’s always pleasant enough when he speaks tae ye, bit ye kin tell that he’s lying through they false teeth ae his, every time he opens that trap ae his. Barr’s should’ve retired him aff years ago. He looks aboot seventy five if he’s a day.”
“Aye, ye jist don’t know who’s genuine and who isnae aboot here.”
“Ah know an auld boy who goat intae an argument wae him wan night. It wis wan ae JP’s business cronies fae The Home Guard. He said the auld basturt claimed tae hiv fought wae The Desert Rats during the War. He’d been bleating oan aboot how The Corporation should be daeing mair fur aw the auld wans who fought in the last two wars.”
“And did he?”
“Whit?”
“Fight wae The Desert Rats?”
“Did he, hell. JP soon put everywan right oan that score. JP said that he wis wan ae the worst shirkers that served under him when JP wis a sergeant in The Home Guard.”
“Aye, noo why dis that no surprise me, eh? Look at Pat Molloy and that auld man ae his. Ducking and diving while everywan else wis oot daeing their bit. Ah heard Molloy claiming wan night that the work him and his da wur daeing, running stables in the Toonheid and across in Maryhill, wis aw part ae the war effort. It never stoapped them fae running wan ae the biggest black market set-ups in the West ae Scotland though.”
“Ah’d jist love tae march o’er there and book that daughter wan oan the spot, right here, right noo.”
“Aye, well, the way she stomped intae Colin’s office the other day there, Ah thought fur wan minute that we wur the wans that wur aboot tae get lifted. Ah cannae believe the protection these wee toe-rags hiv nooadays. Ye’d think it wis us that wur the bad guys.”
“Don’t get me wrang, Sarge, Ah think Colin is wan ae the better inspectors doon at Central, bit the way he jist sat back and let that jezebel march right in and oot again wae they wee manky basturts in tow wis a bit much.”
“Ah know, Ah know, Crisscross. He says she took him totally by surprise. He wisnae too sure if she wis ranting aff the cuff or if some brief hid sat doon wae her and telt her whit tae say. He thinks somewan’s using her tae get tae us aw. She certainly widnae hiv the brains tae come oot wae some ae the stuff that prattled aff that forked tongue ae hers.”
“So, whit aboot Sally and the lassies’ money then? Dae ye think that’s long gone?” Crisscross asked him.
“Ah’d say there’s mair chance ae me being promoted than they hiv ae getting that dosh back. No that Ah’m efter promotion, mind ye.”
“If anywan deserves it aboot here, it wid be yersel, Sarge. Look at aw the reduction in crime that there’s been since ye’ve arrived back oan the scene. Naebody kin say that’s a fluke. And tae get a gun aff the streets? Christ, ye should’ve goat a bloody medal, like me and Jinty.”
“It jist disnae work like that nooadays, Crisscross. Ye hiv tae get assaulted or even worse…murdered, before they clock that ye’re oot here putting yersel in danger hauf the time. That Paddy crowd hiv goat everything sewn up. Look where they’ve positioned themsels? That’s no a fluke, so it isnae. Unless ye’re prepared tae lick arses, ye’ve nae chance. The fact that they don’t like me because ae ma success is neither here or there.”
“Totally oot ae order, so it is!”
“Kin ye no see them?” Helen asked her maw.
“Where?”
“Sitting o’er there in Lister Street?”
“Ah cannae see a thing.”
“The car is jist sitting aboot ten feet back up aff ae Parly Road, behind a wee black Morris Minor.”
“Ah need tae get ma eyes tested. Ah’m as blind as a bat.”
“When ye want tae be.”
“Whit?”
“Nothing.”
“So, who is it?”
“That fascist sergeant and his squinty gofer, Crisscross. They’re sitting there clocking us. Probably talking aboot us as we speak.”
“Well, Ah widnae pay them any heed. We hivnae done anything.”
“The way they operate? That widnae matter a toss aboot here.”
“And tae think that da ae yours sticks up fur that Crisscross every chance he gets. He cannae see the bad in anywan wae a uniform oan his back.”
“So, ye’ve been oot shoapping, hiv ye?” Helen asked her, changing the subject.
“Aye, Ah nipped up tae try and see if there wis any ae yesterday’s loaves left, bit the locusts hid been and gone.”
“Aye, Ah’m wan ae them. Ah goat two, so ye kin hiv wan ae mine.”
“So, whit aboot yersel, hen? Ah’m surprised tae see ye o’er this end oan a Wednesday. Ah widnae hiv thought ye’d hiv come up here jist fur two loaves ae stale breid.”
“Ah’ve jist been up tae see Fat Fingered Finklebaum. He cut me doon fae three bob tae a hauf croon oan Jimmy’s shoes. Johnboy says he wis lucky tae even get that.”
“And you wan ae his best customers as well?”
“Aye, well, Ah’m
back up tae three bob. Ah even goat the tanner aff ae him that he owed me.”
“The amount ae money he makes aff ae everywan, ye’d think he’d be glad ae the custom.”
“That’s whit Ah said. Ah nearly caused a riot in there. Before ye knew it, everywan wis demanding mair money fur their stuff. Ah think he jist agreed so he could get shot ae me. Ah telt him that Ah’d get aw the wummin tae start gaun doon tae the pawn shoap in Bath Street if he didnae stoap messing everywan aboot. He then hid the cheek tae start harping oan aboot aw his overheids. Ah telt him straight that if Ah didnae get three bob oan Jimmy’s good shoes, then hauf his custom wid be walking. That soon shut him up aboot overheids, so it did.”
“Aye, Ah’ve never met a poor pawnbroker yet.”
“Ah noticed that The McAslin Bar’s goat a sign up ootside saying, ‘Private Do This Saturday. Entry By Invite Only’.”
“Hiv they? Ach, Ah’m starting tae get aw excited, so Ah am. Even that da ae yours wis asking me whit the programme fur the night wis. The only time we go oot noo is roond the corner tae The Grafton.”
“Aye, ye’ll enjoy yersel. The baith ae youse will.”
“Ah cannae wait. Ah heard that they’ve goat aw these famous TV stars coming.”
“Jimmy’s goat tae work aw day Saturday, so we’ll need tae make sure he’s goat time fur a bath before we come roond tae yours tae take youse up tae the pub.”
“Hiv Ah no telt ye? We’re getting picked up in Pat’s big swanky Jag. That skinny boy in the shorts, that runs aboot aw o’er the place like a demented chicken fur him, came roond and telt us that wan ae Pat’s boys will pick up aw us auld wans. He says that we’ll aw get a lift hame so long as nobody pishes in the back seat ae his good car, the cheeky blighter. Ah think it wis the runner that added that bit oan. Ah cannae see Pat saying something like that, kin you?”
“Ah widnae put it past Pat tae charge ye fur the petrol tae get ye there.”
“Oh shite, Helen! Don’t turn roond, bit Ah’ve jist clocked that fat Sally Sally wan, striding up the road towards us wae wan ae her sidekicks. Right, remember, Ah’ve nae money.”
“Hellorerr ladies,” boomed the fat probationary lieutenant, shaking her can in their faces.
“Hello Sally. Sorry tae hear the bad news aboot the hoose getting broken intae. It must’ve been quite a shock.”
“Shock? Ah don’t think Ah’ll ever get o’er it, Helen. Ah jist cannae sleep at night, worrying aboot whit might’ve happened if we wur aw lying in oor beds sleeping and hid tae get up tae go tae the cludgie in the middle ae being ransacked.”
“Och, aye, we’d probably have ended up getting ravished by some big ruffian,” said her sidekick.
“Did they get away wae much, Sally?” Helen’s maw asked her.
“Aw oor collection money. That’s why we’re oot shaking oor cans, morning, noon and night, jist noo. We’re trying tae retrieve as much as possible. Ah cannae sleep at night fur thinking aboot aw they wee poor weans in Africa gaun withoot,” she said, shaking her can at them again.
“Aye, Ah know whit ye mean. Ah cannae sleep at night thinking aboot aw they poor wee weans in the Toonheid gaun withoot either,” Helen replied drily.
“So, who’s this then?” Helen’s maw asked, changing the subject swiftly efter clocking Sally’s eyes narrowing tae slits.
“I’m Anita. I stay at Sally’s. She’s our chaperone while we do our missionary work down here in bonny Glesgie.”
“There’s mair ae youse, is there?”
“There’s myself, Morna and Kathleen. All Highland lassies frae Tain.”
“Aye, very good,” Helen’s maw said drily, trying tae figure oot how tae extract hersel and get gaun doon the road.
“Would you like to make a little contribution to our can collection, Ladies?” Anita asked, shaking the rattling, hauf full, heavy can in their face fur the umpteenth time.
“Ach, Ah’m really sorry, hen. Ah wis gonnae ask youse fur a wee contribution masel. Ah’ve no a penny in ma purse,” tittered Maw, gripping her haunbag closer tae hersel.
“A wee ha’penny wid dae. Better than nothing, eh?” Sally said, rattling her can.
“Ah’ve jist come fae Fat Fingered, so Ah cannae help ye either.”
“Och well, never mind. Maybe next time, eh?” Anita said cheerfully, looking aboot the street fur mair victims.
“Hiv ye tried some ae the local businesses, Sally?” Helen asked her.
“Oh, aye. The only wans that hiv responded so far ur Big Pat fae The McAslin Bar and his business partner, Shaun Murphy. They’re a total credit tae the community, that pair. Total gentlemen, so they ur. They sent that boy they’ve goat, the wan who dis aw their running aboot fur them, roond wae a sizeable donation.”
“No that wan wae the skinny legs and the shorts that appears oot ae naewhere, scaring aw us auld wans tae death?”
“Aye, that’s him. They sent him roond wae a pound, aw in ha’pennies, in an auld smelly sock. He said that Pat and Shaun telt him tae tell me it wis aw in coinage so we could put it straight intae oor cans, so they widnae appear tae be empty when we were oot collecting. Is that no thoughtful ae them?”
“Och, aye, they even said that they didn’t want any publicity. God must have showed them the path to our wee door. God bless them the noo,” piped up Anita, aw misty-eyed, looking heavenwards.
“Aye, well, oan that happy note, we’ll need tae get gaun if we want tae fill these cans the day. Let’s go, Anita. See ye, ladies.”
“Aye, bye, Sally. Bye, Martina,” Helen’s maw said.
“Ye’re something else, so ye ur.”
“Whit hiv Ah done noo?”
“Her name’s Anita.”
“So, whit dae ye think they’re talking aboot then?” asked The Sarge.
“Ah’m fucked if Ah know. That’s the trouble wae Sally. She’s so innocent. She’s nae used tae swimming in amongst life’s shitehooses. She widnae suspect that the wummin she’s talking tae jist noo wis the wan that sprung wan ae the wee basturts oot ae the jail that wiped his arse oan her good cotton sheet.”
“So, whit wid she dae if she knew?”
“Sally? Probably nip roond tae her hoose and put wan oan her, Ah’d imagine.”
“Dae ye think so?”
“Oh, aye. She might be as innocent as an angel, bit she’s nae mug. She kin pack a punch wae the best ae them. Ah’ve found that oot tae ma cost many a time, especially when Ah’m pished and Ah cannae be arsed gieing her wan.”
“So, whit’s the score wae they wee Christian chookter strumpets that ur living wae youse?”
“How dae ye mean?”
“Ye know?”
“They’re oot ae bounds, as far as Ah’m concerned. JP’s sniffing aboot like an auld horny mongrel though. The last time he wis roond, he wis panting like a randy kangaroo, wae that tongue ae his hinging oot the side ae his mooth as if he’d jist run the two hunner yards in the Olympics.”
“And?”
“And, well, nothing. He’s goat his eyes oan the wan that’s staunin o’er there wae Sally. Ah’ve been telt no tae leave them in the same room thegither fur mair than two minutes. Sally says we’ve goat a responsibility tae protect them fae aw these randy unwashed locals.”
“Dae ye think Ah’d be in wae a shout then?”
“Probably, bit ye’d need tae get her oan her lonesome and no tell her ye’re married. If Sally caught ye, ye’d be walking aboot wearing they baw-bag ae yours as ear mufflers.”
“Aye, well, Crisscross...ye know me. Where there’s danger, that’s where Ah’ll be. Right, that’s yer Sally and the wee plump Christian thing aff oan the trot. Put this thing intae gear and we’ll hiv a wee shifty roond aboot tae see if we kin see any ae they wee bed-shiting shitehooses. Turn left up Parly Road here and slow doon when ye get tae yer Sally and ma new girlfriend. Ah want a wee shifty ae that never-been-kissed arse ae hers oan the way by.”
“Ah cannae bloody staun that pontificating cow.”
“Aye,
well, Ah widnae worry, Helen. Ye won’t need tae dae any explaining when yer time comes.”
“Maw, don’t you start noo.”
“Sorry, hen. See, that’s whit happens when ye’re accosted by they do-gooders in the street, when ye’re gaun aboot yer business. Ah always come oot wae that kind ae shite fur aboot a day or so efterwards, every time Ah speak tae them. That da ae yours is the same. He wis nearly convinced tae go back tae mass wan time until he found oot the two men at the door wur really selling encyclopaedias.”
“Right, change the tune. Ye wur saying that Ah’ve no tae come roond tae yours oan Saturday noo that ye’ve goat a lift organised, is that right?”
“Aye.”
“Wan ae the new immigrant families up in Grafton Square his a warrant sale coming up oan Friday. Her man wis lost at sea when he wis heiding hame fae tying up aw their loose ends. Sherbet telt me and Ah goat him tae take me roond tae see her. Nice wee lassie wae five weans. Took me ages tae persuade her tae challenge it. That JP is bloody useless, so he is. He agrees wae me that she’s goat a good case tae appeal it, bit he cannae dae anything aboot it before Friday, or so he says. Me and aw the lassies ur planning a reception committee fur the Sheriff officers, so we ur.”
“Well, watch oot ye don’t get arrested and slung intae the clink. They tell me the seats fur Saturday night ur like gold dust. We’ll keep yersel and Jimmy a seat beside us, bit ye’ll need tae be doon there pretty pronto, so youse will.”
“Oh, oh!”
“Whit?”
“It’s Dixon ae Dock Green wae that squinty-eyed beaver wan. They’ve jist pulled oot ae Lister Street.”
“They’re no heiding oor way, ur they?”
“They bloody better no be. Ah’m jist in the right mood fur a fight wae they eejits. Ah’m still beeling efter whit they did tae Johnboy and his pals, the basturts. They didnae even gie them a cup ae water tae drink. Ah wish Ah could afford a lawyer. Ah’d sue the arses aff ae the lot ae them.”
