by Ian Todd
She’d only jist sat doon oan the pan when she heard the lavvy door open. Two shadowy feet appeared at the bottom ae the cubicle door. A wee note attached tae two red painted fingernails, wis slipped underneath it. By the time she’d bent o’er and picked it up, she heard the door open, letting in the squeals fae the weans oot in the café, before it silently closed shut, leaving her and the sound ae dripping water fae the cistern in the cubicle next door. She opened the folded note.
‘Coias Café at the corner of Duke Street and Millerston Street, 11.15. Don’t be late.’ The Skulls smirked up at her, as she reached o’er and ripped aff a sheet ae the toilet roll oan the back ae the door.
It hid been a teenager’s haun that hid slipped the note under the door. While walking quickly across the flair tae the entrance ae the cafe, she’d managed tae hiv a quick swatch ae the hauns ae baith Minnie Mooses as they rushed tae supply the hungry mooths ae the screaming, delighted weans. The pair ae them wur wearing the same colour ae nail varnish. Baith hid smiled at her pleasantly oan the way past, the same as they wid’ve done tae any other departing customer. There hid been nae furtive, knowing looks in they eyes. Christ, they couldnae hiv been mair than fourteen or fifteen years auld. It wis only then that she realised that no only wur they wearing the same ootfits, bit they wur identical twins. How wid wan, or a pair ae twins, be involved in passing a note through a lavvy door oan behauf ae a group ae urban warriors like The Showgirls? How did somewan join? Collette hidnae really gied the so-called wummin’s movement much thought until lately. Although she’d hid plenty ae shitty experiences baith in her personnel life and at her work wae guys, she’d never felt inclined tae go oot and plaster her woes aw o’er walls and billboards fur everywan tae see. Where wur aw the wummin who gathered doon at closemooths week efter week and year efter year demonstrating against warrant sales? Given whit she’d picked up fae Lesley, the warrant sales protesters didnae seem tae be part ae that wider political picture. She wondered why. As far as she wis aware, she hidnae come across a single man at a warrant sale demo. She wondered if it wis a particular type ae wummin that wis recruited intae something like The Showgirls? Lesley hid accused them aw ae being a bunch ae frustrated, middle-class, lesbian man-haters.
“The wummin at the closemooths jist want tae overturn The Corporation warrant sales while The Showgirls want tae overturn the government and take o’er the world,” Lesley hid assured her knowledgably.
When she thought aboot it, Collette hid tae admit that she didnae really know Senga Jackson nor the nurse, Geraldine Baker. In fact, she wisnae too sure if she’d noo recognise Baker if they wur in the same room thegither. Whit she could remember and whit she wis certain ae, wis that the baith ae them didnae come across as man-haters. Tae hear them speak, they sounded as if they came fae good tenement working-class stock as well. She wondered exactly how much Lesley really knew aboot that man ae hers? Collette hid been absolutely stunned tae discover that Teddy Bare, Lesley’s man, wis no only the faither ae Priscilla Presley’s daughter, Lisa Marie, bit that the birth hid been the result ae Priscilla being raped by the basturt. When Lesley hid found oot that Collette wis working alangside Elvis, she’d been really shitey aboot him, calling him a wee sick, poisoned dwarf. Hid that been Lesley talking or that horrible man ae hers? Collette always assumed that the reason Teddy hated her wis because he wis a control freak and didnae want that wife ae his tae hiv friends. She turned and looked at her bag sitting oan the empty passenger seat beside her. She’d been swithering aboot the contents ever since she’d been gied the letters fae Susan McFarlane. Wis she, Collette James, really gaun tae haun o’er the contents ae Priscilla’s written statement, implicating the man ae her best pal in the rape ae a fellow polis officer, even if it wis back in the 1960s? She hid nae problem wae the others, bit could she really smash her best pal’s family intae a thousand bits? She wis convinced that Lesley widnae be aware ae the sordid past ae her man. And whit aboot Teddy Junior? Why did there always hiv tae be innocent victims in life? Priscilla hid been searching fur justice fur o’er a decade. When Collette hid asked her if Elvis knew who Lisa Marie’s father wis, Priscilla hid hesitated.
“Elvis knows everything…apart fae who Lisa Marie’s da is,” she’d replied, through clenched teeth. “And Ah’d like it tae stay that way…if that’s possible.”
She slowed doon coming up tae the traffic lights. Whit wid the implications be if she suddenly turned left intae the Gallowgate at the junction ae Fielden Street, insteid ae crossing o’er intae Millerston Street before reaching Coias Café up at the tap end ae the drag? It hid crossed her mind mair than a few times tae jist bite the bullet and accept the transfer oot tae Yoker efter burning the letters, wance and fur aw. They wur a time bomb waiting tae go aff. How they’d mange tae survive intact wis nothing short ae a miracle. Why her? Why the hell hid Susan McFarlane no done the sensible thing and used them while she’d hid the chance? Aw the ex-poliswummin up at Priscilla’s hid said so themsels, that they wurnae convinced anything wid come oot ae anything Collette wis up tae. And if she wis tae dae an aboot-turn and gie up, nowan wid surely be surprised by her decision. Whit hid she tae lose? Everything. Whit hid she tae gain? Nothing. Bit then again, wis that no whit wis supposed tae happen? Wis that no why the torment ae aw the wummin, Susan McFarlane and noo her, hid gone oan fur as long as it hid? Nowan hid been prepared tae staun their ground because ae the consequences. The dock ae The High Court wis littered wae the victims ae rape who’d tried tae staun up fur themsels and others, who’d been torn tae pieces by male defenders who’d known fine well that their clients wur as guilty as sin.
“Aye, well, Collette, hen, whitever ye dae will hiv tae be decided later,” she murmured, as Coias Café loomed up in front ae her at the corner ae Duke Street as she felt that heartbeat ae hers quicken.
“Ah’ll hiv a glass ae Irn Bru and a bacon roll, hen,” she asked the young waitress, drapping her jaicket o’er the seat beside her, looking aboot.
Although the chequered plastic table covers wur busy wae people getting tore intae their fry-ups, it hidnae stoapped an aulder couple, her wearing a frilly white apron wae a smoking fag between her fingers, creating wee smoke whirls in their wake, dancing cheek tae cheek in the middle ae the worn lino, tae the sound ae Bob Dylan’s ‘Lily, Rosemary and The Jack ae Hearts’ streaming oot ae an auld valve radio fae nineteen canteen up oan a shelf above the lavvy door. Although maist people hid their faces leaning intae their plates, underneath the tables, everywan’s toes wur tapping away tae the Cantina beat. It wis hard fur Collette no tae be affected by the hypnotic beat and lyrics.
‘Anywan wae any sense hid awready left toon,’ Bob Dylan reminded her, as the dancing pair swirled and sashayed across the flair, his fit filling the space a millisecond efter hers hid taken flight.
Despite her anxiety, it wis hard no tae be drawn-in by the running beat and the lyrics. The song reflected perfectly, where she wis in her life. She imagined Big Jim who owned the toon’s only diamond mine being stabbed by a penknife in the back by Lily. She could picture the surprised look oan that face ae Duggie Dougan as she stood there, steady-eyed, as he slumped tae the flair. It wis the staunin oan the gallows bit, looking across at the Jack Ae Hearts that she didnae like. She wondered who’d be playing the Rosemary part? She hoped it widnae be her.
“There ye go, hen,” the waitress announced, as the harmonica played the song oot and The Jack Ae Hearts rode aff intae the night tae meet his gang doon by the riverbed oan the ootskirts ae toon, while the dancing waitress heided back behind the coonter and her dancing partner went tae finish his fry-up beside his pals in the left-haun corner ae the room.
Despite her turmoil, she couldnae run away. She wis far too damaged fur that. The hurt ran too deep. The basturt still hidnae returned her da’s good gold Dunhill lighter tae her, despite promise efter broken promise tae get it back. Although Priscilla clearly kept hersel in check, there wis nae hiding the determination, if an opportunity ever arose, tae
exact revenge if she could. If that wis through somewan like Collette James, then so be it.
She hidnae realised how hungry she’d been. Wae a dollop ae HP broon sauce in the middle ae that breid roll ae hers, The Showgirls, whoever they wur, wid hiv tae wait, she telt hersel, taking the first bite ae food she’d hid since six o’clock the night before.
There hid been nae mair dancing oan the flair. In fact, there hid been nae mair nothing. People wur coming and gaun in the same numbers as the buses flying up and doon Duke Street heiding intae the toon or up towards Cumbernauld Road. She wondered if she wis expected tae dae the same wee toilet routine as she hid in the Queens Café when the aulder dancing queen arrived at her table and took the initiative oan her behauf. Underneath the wee till slip, a well-recognised scrap ae paper sat tempting her tae get that arse ae hers in gear.
‘The City Café oan Castle Street. 12.30. Don’t be late,’ The Skulls scoffed at her.
She wis sure that there wur twinkles in the eyes ae the grinning skulls looking up at her, as she left a pound note…sixty pence fur her food and drink and a forty pence tip fur the fine dancing, as she grabbed her coat and bag and exited the café withoot a backward glance.
“How’s the neck?” Geraldine asked her nodding, a wee shy smile appearing oan her lips.
“Ach, it’s fine,” Collette replied, involuntary reaching up and fingering her invisible scar. “It’s the embarrassment ae daeing whit Ah did o’er the heid ae a man that still hurts.”
“Aye, the psychological scars tend take a lot longer tae heal, so they dae. Ye wullnae be the first and, nae doubt, ye’ll certainly no be the last.”
“So?” they baith asked at wance, as the wee waitress appeared at the table.
“Ah’m full tae bursting point wae aw the liquid Ah’ve consumed oan ma travels,” Collette admitted.
“How aboot a couple ae ice creams then?”
“Great.”
“We’ll hiv two oyster wafers please,” Geraldine telt the waitress. “Aye, Ah’m sorry aboot aw the running aboot ye’ve hid tae dae this morning. They’ve goat tae careful, so they hiv.”
“They?”
“Aye.”
So, that’s how she’s gonnae play it, Collette thought tae hersel.
“So, wis Ah being tailed then?”
Silence.
“Ah believe that ye wur wanting tae talk tae me? That ye might hiv something ae mutual interest tae the people who asked me tae meet up wae ye?”
“Aye, bit Ah wisnae expecting tae be talking tae some wee message girl,” Collette replied, no being able tae help hersel, extracting some come-back fur aw the running aboot she’d been daeing, as the eyes flashed and the face stiffened oan the nurse sitting across fae her.
“Aye, well, Ah believe it wis you that wanted tae talk tae me, so withoot further ado, ye’d be as well getting whitever it is ye want tae say aff yer chest. Ah’m starting ma shift in fifteen minutes,” Geraldine lied, dying tae say ‘Touché’ at the crestfallen look that hid suddenly appeared across fae her.
Silence.
“Look, we could sit here fur long enough trying tae score points aff ae each other. Ah might be a lowly nurse, bit Ah’m nae pushover,” Geraldine warned her, gearing hersel up fur a fight.
“Naw, ye’re right. Ah’m sorry. Ah’ve jist came aff a nightshift, so Ah hiv. Ah’m tired and grumpy, especially wae aw that running aboot like a blue-arsed fly this morning.”
“Snap. Oh, and aye, ye wur tailed as far as Coias Café alang in Duke Street, so ye wur,” Geraldine replied, as the ice cream oysters arrived at the table. “We hiv tae be careful,” she continued, lifting up the teaspoon that came wae the ice cream. “The flair is aw yours.”
“Dae we really only hiv fifteen minutes?”
“We’ll see,” Geraldine replied, scooping a bit ae the ice cream fae the sides ae the wafer shell and putting it in her mooth.
Collette took a deep breath and started tae relay the sorry, sordid tale ae her relationship wae Bobby Mack before she wis passed oan tae Duggie Dougan, in between moothfuls ae ice cream.
“So, where dis the female sergeant’s brother come intae it then?” The Nurse asked.
“Oh, ye know aboot him then?”
“Some things, bit there’s broken links in between.”
She then back-tracked and spoke aboot Susan McFarlane’s quest fur justice efter the assault in the toilet cubicle across in the polis club in the Gorbals, aboot how her complaints hid initially been ignored by the inspectors in charge and then the dragging ae the feet ae the internal investigation team. Efter aw that, even if she’d wanted, there widnae hiv been a place fur somewan like Susan McFarlane in the force.
“So, whit became ae her?”
Collette explained aboot her chance meeting wae Susan up at the bridge in Cadder.
“Dis the sergeant know that he his a son?”
“Naw, and whitever happens, that cannae come oot in the wash. Ah swore tae Susan that whitever Ah did, it widnae involve her or the wean. Ah’m no prepared tae compromise oan that wan either.”
“And whit aboot you, Collette? How ur you coping?”
“Me?” Collette asked, sounding surprised.
“Aye.”
“Er, how dae ye mean?”
“Ah mean, how ur you coping efter whit they’ve put ye through?”
“There’s nothing wrang wae me, so there’s no,” she replied defensively.
“Collette, Ah’m no saying there’s anything wrang wae ye. It’s jist…it’s jist...hiv ye been able tae speak tae somewan aboot whit ye’ve been through?”
“Ah’m speaking tae you.”
“That’s no whit Ah mean. As you yersel admitted, there’s a good chance that there could be psychological effects,” Geraldine replied, trying tae choose her words carefully.
“Ach, don’t worry aboot me. As Ah telt Senga up in her flat the other week there, Ah’ve goat Mr Hopkins. He’s an expert oan keeping me sane, so he is…and he never buts in or tries tae change the subject. He’s a rare listener.”
“Oh, er, right. Oh, well, that’s good tae know,” Geraldine replied, before continuing, “Bit jist in case, there’s a shelter…a refuge fur wummin, here in the toon. If things get bad where ye feel ye’re maybe no coping, there’s some good wummin there who might be able tae help ye.”
“Ah cannae see it coming tae that, bit Ah’ll keep it in mind. Thanks fur the advice,” Collette replied, making it obvious that she wanted tae change the subject.
“Okay. Right. Ye’ll hiv tae furgive me fur whit Ah’m gonnae come oot wae next, bit we might never get the chance tae hiv this conversation again, so don’t take offence. Despite whit ye might think, these type ae allegations urnae aw that rare. There’s a new law coming oot this year called The Sex Discrimination Act. It’s supposed tae ensure there’s equality in the workplace and elsewhere. We suspect that, like the Equal Pay Act that came oot, back in 1970, it wullnae be enforceable…at least fur us wummin, who it’s being set up fur. Also, whit is rare, is hivving the hard evidence tae back a sexual harassment allegation up. Yer pal, Susan McFarlane, wid be able tae tell ye that. It’s no as easy as ye might think, trying tae expose the type ae people ye’ve jist identified either, as the management structures ur usually always men. Taking something like this ootwith the workplace is usually a waste ae time as well. The papers, the newspaper people, jist urnae that interested in this kind ae stuff, unless it concerns some famous lord or politician. We hivnae any hard evidence, bit we believe that there’s some sort ae closed-shoap agreement between the establishment and the media. Wur ye aware that only seven companies own eighty-four percent ae the media in the whole ae Great Britain? Naw? Well that’s whit we, you, ur up against.”
“Ah’ve a pal, so Ah hiv…ma best pal in fact. She works in the Serious Crime and Intelligence section oot ae Pitt Street doon in the toon centre. She telt me that there’s some sort ae gentlemen’s agreement. Ah thought she wis jist blowing bubbles when she telt me.
Ah don’t know the mechanics ae it, bit seemingly, they won’t, or urnae interested in printing sexual harassment stories. Exposes being raised by the likes ae The Showgirls ur a total non-starter.”
“Whit? She mentioned us by name?”
“Oh, aye. She says that the management feel threatened by the tactics. The agreement also includes the TV companies as well, so it dis.”
“Aye, well, the point Ah wis coming tae is this. If a victim like Susan McFarlane isnae prepared tae come forward, then you, we, don’t hiv a hope in hell ae getting whit ye’ve jist telt me challenged. Believe you me, Collette, Ah know whit Ah’m talking aboot, so Ah dae.”
“Aye, well, Ah hivnae telt ye aw ma story. There’s mair, so there is.”
“Oh?”
Collette then went oan tae explain tae the nurse that Susan McFarlane hidnae jist telt her aboot her experience, bit hid handed across the letters containing the written testaments, some dating back tae the early sixties, ae eleven ex-poliswummin. These wummin, a lot ae them hivving been victims ae The Irish Brigade, hid aw been sexually assaulted, raped, or duped intae resigning fae the force due tae oot-dated rules ae the time, that stated that poliswummin intending tae get married hid tae resign.
“Christ!”
She also explained that no only hid she read and reread the testaments in the signed letters, bit that she’d met aw the wummin up at Priscilla’s who’d sanctioned her using the contents in whitever way she felt wis necessary tae get them the justice that hid been denied them fur so long.
“And where ur the letters noo?” Geraldine croaked, clearly shocked.
“Here,” Collette replied, turning roond and lifting them oot ae her bag before placing them oan the table.
The Nurses reaction wisnae whit she expected, as she recoiled fae the thick bundle sitting in front ae her.
“Whit’s wrang? Ye kin hiv a read ae them,” Collette said, concerned, as The Nurse quickly looked aboot, a look ae panic spread across that coupon ae hers.
“Ah, er…put them away,” she yelped, pressing her back in tae her chair, her hauns held aloft, surrender style.
