One Hundred And Twelve Days

by Ian Todd

  “Oh, look, Ah’ll see ye through in the canteen, Wilma. Hopefully they’ll hiv installed a bar in the place that Ah kin grab masel a large vodka and coke fae,” Jean said, walking aff, before stoapping and turning. “Remember whit they sang in the advert? Things kin only get better.”

  “So?”

  “Dae ye hiv a daughter that attends The Little Jumping Beans Nursery oan Merkland Street, across in Partick?”

  “Eh? Christ, Morag! Is she awright?” Wilma hauf yelped, panic in her voice.

  “Oh, physically, Morag seems fine enough. It’s er, jist her language that seems tae be the problem.”

  “Her speech? Bit she’s only three and a hauf years auld…”

  “Oh, sorry, sergeant. Ah should’ve introduced masel. Ma name’s Barbara Lennox. Ah’m wan ae the childcare social workers that covers the playgroup and nursery patch that yer daughter attends.”

  “Whit?”

  “There’s been complaints aboot yer daughter, Morag…her language. Wan ae the mothers who wis nominated as the spokesman fur the other mums his come forward and put in a written complaint that some ae the foul language that Morag’s coming oot wae, she widnae expect tae hear fae her coalman, who seemingly swears like a trooper, so he dis. The other mothers ae the weans in the place ur concerned aboot their weans coming hame spouting aw sorts ae stuff.”

  “Bit…” Wilma exclaimed, suddenly lost fur words, wanting tae kill that foul-mouthed auld witch ae a mother ae hers, as she felt her cheeks burning wae embarrassment and shame.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Senga felt her heart rate rise fae a normal sixty five tae o’er a hunner as she neared the ward, acknowledging the nods fae a few nurses and porters oan the way past her as she traversed the corridor. It hid been a week since Johnboy hid been shifted oot ae the emergency ward and two weeks since his sudden and dramatic arrival at The Royal. She wis glad the newspapers hid moved oan wae the story ae his intervention and saving the life ae Dumfries Young Offender’s social worker, Fanny Flaw, efter she’d been taken hostage by a crazy schoolgirl murderer who’d been serving a life sentence. The newspaper men hinging aboot at the front ae the hospital hid moved oan, competing fur sensational heidline space between the murder ae a polis inspector ootside Collette James’s flat across in Hillheid and the nationwide search fur the suspected Partick gunman, efter two ae the inspector’s killers, including the wife ae wan ae them, hid been found shot tae death. The other murder competing fur heidline space hid been committed by a gunman oan the back ae a motorbike, who’d assassinated the owner ae ‘Kitchen Essentials,’ the famous big kitchen appliance shoap oan Dumbarton Road, who’d turned oot tae be wan ae the city’s maist notorious gangsters and moneylenders. That murder hid taken place in broad daylight oan Woodside Road, jist alang fae her flat in Barrington Drive. None ae the daily streams ae slashed, stabbed and burned emergency admissions being trolleyed intae casualty wan efter the other fae the ambulances across the north ae the city wur getting a look in fae the media. The papers wur trying tae outdo each other as they gleefully recounted the bloody mess that the high-profile victims hid been turned intae, at the hauns ae psychopathic gunmen oan the loose. Wance again, they’d cut short her training days in the delivery rooms doon in The Rottenrow because ae the surge in numbers being admitted day and night tae casualty. Although Johnboy hid been shifted fae intensive roond-the-clock care, they’d kept him in an induced coma in wan ae the wee post-op recovery wards due tae the heid injury inflicted during his rescue ae the social worker. She felt nervous as the ward loomed up in front ae her. She wis supposed tae hiv goat interviewed by the health panel, oan her suitability fur practicing as a district nurse, earlier in the morning, bit hid been made tae hing aboot maist ae the day, roond at the training block oan Stirling Road, while they’d found a replacement panel member, efter wan ae them hid called in sick. She’d been the last, and the youngest, oot ae eight other nurses being interviewed. By the time she’d come oot, it hid been ten past five. She’d known they wur expecting Johnboy tae come oot ae his coma at some stage in the day. She’d decided tae nip hame and grab a quick bite tae eat before getting back up tae The Royal fur seven o’clock when the visiting times started. She hidnae been in the flat mair than two minutes when her pal, Geraldine Baker, hid phoned tae tell her that Johnboy hid at last opened his eyes in the morning. He’d been drifting in and oot ae consciousness maist ae the day, which wis tae be expected and hid spoken tae a few ae the nurses oan the ward as well as tae the consultant, Mr Sing, who’d treated his heid injuries when he’d first been admitted, efter being transferred in an ambulance up fae Dumfries Royal Infirmary. She could hardly contain her excitement, as she pushed open the ward door. There wur six patients, surrounded by the expected monitors, oxygen tanks and electrolyte drips. Johnboy wis doon oan the far right, underneath the windae. He wis lying, semi-propped up, wae his eyes shut, as Margaret Connelly, wan ae the duty nurses gied her a wee smile and nodded towards where he lay, as she checked the heart rate ae an unconscious, elderly patient. Senga came across this sight, and worse, every day she darkened the doors ae The Royal, bit it still didnae prevent her fae feeling emotionally overwhelmed tae see him lying there oan his ain, his red hair staunin oot against the starkness ae the white sterile surroundings. She fought hard no tae burst intae a dash, bit insteid, tip-toed tae the side ae his bed efter hivving hid a wee quick swatch ae the clipboard hinging aff the bottom ae it, checking his blood pressure, heart rate and how much fluid they’d been gieing him throughoot the day. She sat quietly, looking at him. His heid wis still swathed in a bandage. They’d removed the plaster fae his ear and hid taken oot the horizontal line ae black stitches where a knife hid sliced it in hauf. It still looked angry. His left shoulder and chest, where he’d been stabbed in two places, wis still covered. Thank God his breathing wis even. The knife that hid gone intae his back hid punctured his lung. Although deadly, the wound wis pretty common amongst stabbing victims streaming intae casualty, particularly oan a Friday and Saturday night, when the street gang members in the toon goat tore intae their fire-water before heiding aff tae fight wae each other up in the hoosing schemes. His freckles, like his hair, stood oot against the paleness ae his complexion. It hid been years since she’d been this close tae him, other than sitting across a table fae him in the gymnasium hall, that served as a prison visiting room, under the watchful eyes ae the prison warders. She fought the urge tae lift his haun intae hers. It hid been a long and painful journey fur the baith ae them. She bent o’er and quickly snatched a paper hanky oot ae her shoulder bag at her feet and wiped away the tear that hid suddenly run doon her cheek. She could vividly remember their first day at school when they wur five, efter he’d turned up late at St David’s Primary School, no far fae where they wur noo. According tae her ma, her and Johnboy hid played thegither oan the kitchen flairs before that, roond in each other’s hooses when their mas hid visited each other. Despite trying, she couldnae remember that. Her first real memory ae him wis that first day at school when they wur five. She’d been so excited tae be starting school that day that she hidnae slept fur a week beforehaun. She remembered being confused and horrified that somewan could turn up late oan their very first day at school. Her ma worked wae his ma, Helen and Betty Smith, Johnboy’s next door neighbour in Montrose Street, as cleaners at the school. She’d driven her ma that mental, that she’d finally succumbed and allowed her tae go tae work wae her that first morning at hauf five, before the sparrows hid been up and aboot. Efter her ma hid heided hame wae the other wummin at seven o’clock, she’d stood aboot in the playground oan her lonesome at the door tae the ‘Wee Wans’ huts fur the next hour and a hauf, wondering if she’d made a big mistake, until her second-best pal at the time, Irene Robertson, hid turned up, clearly no as eager as her, bit still excited tae be starting school that day. Of course, she wisnae aware that the reason Johnboy hid been late wis because his ma hid been introducing him tae Fat Fingered Finkllebaum, the owner ae the pawnsh
oap, up the closemooth ae the tenement oan the corner ae McAslin Street and Stanhope Street opposite the stables.

  “Fae noo oan, it’ll be Johnboy ye’ll be dealing wae, insteid ae me. That disnae mean that it’ll gie ye an excuse tae try and rob me because it’s him ye’re dealing wae…Ah’ll be watching and Ah’ll be doon here like a shot if there’s any cheek oan the go,” Helen hid seemingly warned Fat Fingered, according tae Johnboy, efter he’d finally spoken tae her a couple ae weeks efter Olive Oyl, their teacher, hid sent a reluctant Johnboy, dragging his heels, across tae sit beside her in the classroom. Aw the other desks, bar two…hers and another lassie…hid awready been occupied by paired pals sitting beside each other.

  There hidnae been any love lost between them in those first few weeks either. Her best pal at the time, Sandra Dalrymple, hid been meant tae be sitting beside her, bit hid been kept aff school wae mumps. Johnboy’s face, at the thought ae hivving tae sit beside a lassie hid matched hers. He’d irritated the hell oot ae her that first day as he’d sat there sooking oan a big penny gobstopper beside her that his ma hid palmed him aff wae, tae lessen his pain ae hivving tae turn up oan his first day at school late. She cringed, remembering that she’d continued tae ‘shush’ at him or gie him a dig in the ribs that first day wae that elbow ae hers as he sat deliberately, noising her up, scrunching the gobstopper loudly between his teeth, as she tried tae hing oan tae Olive Oyl’s every word. Who wid’ve thought she’d be sitting, aw these years later, in an emergency ward up at The Royal, praying that they hid a future thegither? Her ma hid finally confessed tae her in her early teens, that her and Helen hid worked hard, by persistently passing messages in sealed envelopes between her and Johnboy tae take hame tae them, in a clumsy attempt tae try and get them tae communicate, bit it hid been Johnboy that hid made the first move. She’d been staunin simpering, being comforted by her two best pals, Sandra and Irene, in their class row in the playground, waiting tae be called forward, when he’d asked her whit wis wrang. Sandra hid telt him that she’d lost her penny play-piece money that her ma gied her maist mornings when she wisnae skint.

  “Is that it?” he’d scoffed, as she’d glowered at him through her tears.

  “Here, ye kin hiv this wan,” he’d said, producing a penny oot ae the pockets ae his patched up troosers.

  Before she could refuse tae take it, Sandra hid snatched the penny oot ae the palm ae his haun and used baith ae her hauns tae wrap it roond Senga’s fingers. It hidnae been any auld penny either, she’d found oot later. It hid been his lucky Queen Victoria blackened penny that he’d carried aboot wae him since his granny hid gied it tae him oan his fifth birthday. Of course, she’d been mortified when her ma hid telt her, especially as she’d spent it the same day oan a penny whopper in the wee sweetie shoap beside the school oan St James’s Road. Despite hunting and failing tae find another wan wae the same date…1855…oan it, a hundred years before his birth, she’d been hooked. She’d never mentioned that wee episode tae him. He always claimed tae hiv been totally traumatised fur life, efter she’d knocked back his box ae good Maltesers and birthday card that he’d turned up at school wae tae gie her oan her tenth birthday, in front ae her and her pals in the classroom…another conspiracy between Helen and her ma. She’d never furgoatten the look ae horror oan that face ae his efter Olive Oyl made everywan sing happy birthday tae her and everywan hid laughed at Johnboy’s enthusiasm, as he sung too loud at the tap ae his voice and aw his and her pals hid laughed at him. She knew that it wis stupid, bit she’d always wondered if their lives wid’ve taken a different path if she’d accepted that box ae chocolates that day? There hid been times, missed opportunities o’er the years, when they might’ve been able tae end up thegither, bit she’d either hesitated and left it too late or hid backed aff aw thegither. Although she knew she’d always loved him, she didnae like the boys he ran aboot wae…naw, that wisnae true. Paul McBride, Joe McManus and Skull Kelly wur wee toe-rags, bit she’d always goat oan well enough wae them. It hid been Tony Gucci that hid become her nemesis. Every time she’d come across Johnboy wae him, Tony wid manipulate the conversation and lead Johnboy aff within a minute or so. Even as a wee lassie, she’d cottoned oan tae that wan. She remembered her and Irene hid bumped in tae the pair ae them oan Glebe Street wan day, the day that Gucci hid started at St David’s efter being slung oot ae the Baby Rock up in the Garngad. Johnboy and Fatboy Milne hid hid a run-in at school that morning and they’d been trying tae track him doon tae sort oot whitever the problem wis. While she’d been talking tae Johnboy, Irene hid telt her efter they’d disappeared, that Gucci hid been making shagging dug motions behind their backs. Of course, the fact that she’d discovered Johnboy hid obviously found it funny, made it aw the mair annoying. Why hid he gone alang wae it? She’d telt Irene that she wis glad she hidnae accepted his stupid Maltesers earlier. There hid been other situations later oan, as they’d goat aulder, that hid also made her back aff. While Johnboy hid always been pleasant tae her when they aw socialised thegither in The Tavern up oan Springburn Road, it hid been the death ae Sandra Dalrymple fae leukaemia that hid always made her doubt him. Of course, nowan hid known that Sandra wis ill. It hid aw happened so quickly. Even noo, thinking aboot it, made her want tae greet. Senga hid always felt ashamed ae claiming tae hiv a first and second best pal. She must’ve been a right wee selfish cow at the time. She remembered asking Sandra if she’d sit beside her wance they started school. Poor Irene hid been staunin beside them at the time. Even noo, she could remember the hurt oan Irene’s face. Every time she thought aboot it in her teens, she deliberately blocked it fae her mind. How could she hiv been so cruel? She remembered confessing how she felt tae her ma, efter telling her, that efter her wee pal hid died, she’d sworn that when she grew up, she wis gonnae become a nurse, so nowan else close tae her wid hiv tae die.

  “Look. Ye wur jist a wee five-year auld lassie, Senga. Aw weans ur cruel tae each other when they’re wee. That’s whit weans ur like.”

  “Aye, bit it wis Irene that wis always first up at the door asking if Ah wanted tae come oot tae play,” she’d bubbled back, ashamed.

  Efter Sandra hid been aff school fur a few months, she’d died. Her and Irene’s mas hid kept them aff school fur a few days. Senga remembered her ma sitting her doon and explaining that Sandra wis noo up in heaven wae aw the angels. Wance her jealousy ae Sandra being wae the angels and no her, hid subsided, and her and Irene, alang wae hauf the other weans in the area hid midgie-raked the midden oot the back ae Sandra’s hoose looking fur ‘luckies,’ she’d gone back tae school. Even though they wur only ten years auld, she remembered at the time being annoyed that Johnboy hidnae mentioned her obvious distress at the loss ae her first best pal, even though poor Irene, her second-best pal, hid been fawning aw o’er her in front ae him, comforting her. She didnae know why his indifference tae her Joan ae Arc suffering hid upset her. Efter aw, he wis a stupid boy. Whit wid he hiv known aboot things like that? Christ, he widnae hiv known whit day ae the week it wis, let alone hivving been aware that somewan in his class hid died. She couldnae remember Olive Oyl ever mentioning it tae the class either. Her ma hid telt her years later that child mortality when Olive wid’ve come in tae teaching wid’ve been a regular occurrence in the twenties and thirties. It wis also only years later, in her teens, when she’d been rationalising her life and the events that wid shape it, that it hid hit her. Her ma worked wae Helen Taylor. They wur the best ae pals. Helen wid’ve spoken tae Johnboy aboot Sandra, wan ae his classmates, dying so young. Helen wid’ve known how upset Senga wid’ve been. Her ma wid surely hiv telt Helen aw aboot it, especially seeing as her ma hid kept her aff school. Senga could still remember how upset Johnboy hid been at the death ae Skull Kelly in the fire in the pigeon dookit up at the tap end ae Parly Road. That hid been the same year. Skull hid been the same age as Sandra when he’d died. Despite his faults, she’d always known Johnboy wis different fae the other Mankys. If asked, at the time, she probably couldnae h
iv explained it. She jist knew. It hid been that non-acknowledgement ae her grief that hid made her doubt him, even as a young ten-year-auld. She knew that it wis silly, bit she jist couldnae shake aff that there wis something aboot him, something he kept hidden that she didnae feel comfortable wae, something aboot him that made her hesitant. Aye, he’d always showed her respect, made compliments in front ae the other Mankys, hid made bungled attempts at trying tae get aff wae her, bit that wee sense ae doubt aboot him, hid always surfaced at the crucial moment and she’d backed aff. When she wisnae wae him, she thought aboot him aw the time and dreamed they could make it thegither. When she wis in his company, she looked fur…fur whit? She’d learned a lot aboot Johnboy o’er the past eighteen months, writing regularly, gaun doon tae Dumfries tae visit him, alang wae aw the campaigning tae set him free. Efter that first visit doon in Dumfries when she’d found oot that he wis in fact innocent ae shooting the polis officers in the bank, she’d thrown caution tae the wind and decided tae stick by him. She knew the other lassies at the time hid thought she wis aff her heid. Christ, there wis many a time she thought that as well. She wondered, and no fur the first time, if the boy, the man, lying in the bed in front ae her, wis whit she believed him tae be? She looked doon at her wristwatch. It wis the scraping ae the chairs ae the other patients’ visitors that alerted her. The visiting hour wis up. She knew the matron. She didnae take any prisoners. She wis back oan duty oan the late shift the morra. She’d probably manage tae get in tae see him before the visiting session during the efternoon. She didnae want tae leave him. She wanted tae speak tae him, tell him how much she loved him and yearned tae be wae him and how she hid big plans fur them. She reluctantly stood up and put her coat oan, picking up her shoulder bag. She stared intently at him fur a few seconds before sighing and leaning across and gieing him a kiss oan his lips.