Lyndsay was a different breed altogether from the usual foul mouthed sorts from the scheme with which he had enjoyed fleeting relationships and encounters over the years. Just a minute in her company, and one or two phone-calls had induced in him a different level of desire altogether from that of those impressionable young birds that found themselves drawn to angry young troublemakers like moths to a flame. Lyndsay was top of the league material.
As he approached her outside the Telford, feeling his insides whirling round like a rickety tumble dryer, he was overwhelmed again by the idea that a common thief like Billy Wright wasn’t worthy of her.
“Someone’s looking smart.” She flashed that beaming smile that he feared might reduce him to a blithering bag of nerves if he locked onto it for too long. He glanced down at his skin tight white shirt and stonewash Levi’s, drawing some confidence. She had a point after all.
“Cheers. Not looking too bad yerself,” she chuckled.
Her hair was worn up in curls, her lips even more luscious looking than that that first time he’d seen them. She wore a red, tightly fitted top that exposed her slender shoulders, and a tight black leather zipper skirt that had Billy’s pulse racing like it was fixed to a Scalextrics track. He found it hard to keep his eyes away the moment she turned her back on him. And then when she turned to face he was instantly sucked into those shining eyes that were like an ocean that hooked you, and dragged you in, promising the world amidst the underlying fear that they would end up delivering so little for someone like him.
“Shall we grab a drink?”
Lyndsay opted for a Southern comfort and lemonade, Billy took a pint of Tennents. He fought back the instinctive urge to snarl and ward off the three laddies crowded round the puggie, eyeing her up from behind with wagging tongues, yet there was no need. They just as quickly turned their attention back to the machine the second they clocked who she was with. They retreated to a small table at the front end of the pub, where you could see who was coming and going, a handy thing where Billy was concerned.
“Look am sorry fer takin ye here. Cursin masel fer no takin ye somewhere nice in town. A nice restaurant know what Ah mean? This is a bit of a dive, really.”
“Dont be daft.” She said, waving it away. “It’s nice and cosy. Sometimes those other places are just full of folk lookin down their nose at you. That’s the type of place I get dragged to for family meals. This? This is a nice change to be honest. Feels more real.”
“Aw well. Sound then.”
“At least you showed up, which is more than I can say for my last date.”
“Well, Ah said it before, Ah’ll say it again. Boy needs a good slap. Standin up someone as gorgeous as you?” She smiled, her face taking on a tinted glow.
“Ya wee charmer.”
Two hours flew by as they chatted about everything from dinosaurs to school days, Neighbours and Home Away, to cartoons they loved when they were kids. From their favourite scary film to what they enjoyed having for breakfast, it was effortless, felt like he’d known her for years. For two people from such vastly different backgrounds, it shouldn’t have been so easy but it was. Hanging on his every word, in fits of laughter at all his jokes, melting away his insecurity with her kind, honest eyes. It provided a welcome break from the constant necessity to hustle and steal just to stay afloat, and the memories of childhood brutality at the hands of a monster called Dad. None of it seemed to matter anymore in the face of Lyndsay showing an interest in him, and lighting up his tormented existence. Then, just like that, he was brought crashing down from the clouds, as he looked up to the dreaded sight of Gordon Trevor, standing there, staring down on them like a haunting spectre, his big ham like fists clenched as he towered over the table.
“Check oot the two love birds, eh?” Billy sighed as he watched Lyndsay squirm uncomfortably in her seat. “Well. Arent ye gaunnae introduce me then? How rude darlin, eh?”
“Lyndsay this is Goggs.”
“Hey, hey. Gordon tae a beauty like this. Get it right son.”
“Gordon.”
“An tell me, what on earth is a stunner like you daein wae a reprobate like him, eh?” Billy turned to Lyndsay, eager to bring Goggs cheap little tirade to a close.
“Scuse us fer a minute will ye, Lyndse?”
“Okay.”
Billy ushered the big pest across to the toilet area, eager to get him out of earshot before he fucked things up in some way shape or fashion. It was the first date, and he knew fine well Lyndsay wasn’t ready to be introduced to his world. Not yet.
“How the fuck did a wee bam like you land a bird like that, eh? The rack oan her? Too good fer the likes ay you by the way, can tell that a mile off.”
“What are ye wantin Goggs? Ye pick yer times awright.”
Gordon moved in close and prodded a big finger into Billy’s chest. “You know fine well what am fuckin wantin ya wee radge. Money. We’ve no seen a fuckin penny ay the haul you took fae that jewellery store. An you know what the fuckin deal wis. Dougie outlined it in no uncertain fuckin terms, ye hear me?”
“Look, nows no the time awright? As ye can very well see. Come by ma flat the morn an we’ll work somethin oot.”
“Naw! Times up, Ah want a taste. An Ah want it fuckin now. Tonight. That will do fer starters till you’ve had a chance tae round the money up off the rest ay those wee mugs. What ye got oan ye?”
“Look, what dae ye want me tae dae? Am oot fer a drink. Give me till the morn fer fuck sake.”
“Empty yer pockets, cunt.” Billy sighed through gritted teeth.
“Dae we huv tae dae this? Here? Right fuckin now?” Gordon unzipped his black barbour coat and dipped his hand in before brandishing a sharp hunting knife, ready for gutting.
“Dae Ah need tae say anymair? Now let’s see what ye’ve fuckin got.” Billy shook his head as he went into his pocket and pulled out his notes. He counted out 60 in 20s and handed it over.
“There. Ye can make do wae that the now, surely tae fuck.”
“And the fuckin rest.”
“Come on, eh?”
“Ye want me tae wander round there an tell hot stuff round there who her boyfriend really is? An what he’s capable of? Robbin fuckin jewellers an that? Cause somethin tells me shes none the wiser at this stage.” Billy’s head dropped. He handed over the remaining 60 quid he had on him, knowing the evening was now over.
“Good lad. That will dae fer starters anyway. Tell yer pals they can chuck in the same if they want big Goggs off their backs at least fer the minute. An Ah dont think Ah need tae do any remindin that addresses are known.”
“Are we done here?”
“Aye, beat it.” Billy shook his head as he turned his back.
“Aw aye Billy?”
“What?”
“Tell yer wee sweetheart that once she’s done foolin around wae wee boys. There’s a whole 10 inches of Goggs here, ready an waitin. That’s if she wants a real fuckin man.”
18
Billy could hardly believe his eyes as he walked down Easter Drylaw Avenue on the way to Pick and Save with Jimmy close behind. Big Guiseppe’s ice cream van, sitting there unattended, with the window wound half way down. They had just been up at big Bri Ketchen, a local Drylaw dealer’s flat, picking up some acid tabs for them and the rest of the boys. Billy had sounded Bri out about the possibility of introducing him to his supplier in the hope of starting some business, but Bri wasn’t interested. As he was an unstable, unpredictable maniac, practising strokes with his favourite samurai sword, sunglasses on at seven pm, melted on acid, Billy thought it sensible not to push the matter. Now however an opportunity had presented itself that was just too good to pass up.
“Ya fuckin Dancer. Keep shotty Jim,” said Billy as he glanced about the street, before reaching in and winding the window all the way down. He was distracted by the sound of Jimmy’s laughter, as he pointed to a flat window, where big Guiseppe’s flabby arse was bouncing up and down as he forced himself into an e
ven flabbier vagina. Billy grabbed Jimmy and motioned for him to keep the laughter down as he forced it back himself. There would be plenty time for recounting the scene and crying with laughter when they were in Joe’s flat melted on acid themselves, but for now he wanted that cash register to ease the financial squeeze they were all feeling amidst increasing pressure from Dougie and Gordon. He climbed into the driver seat and checked the inside of the van for the goods, and there it was. It wasn’t even a register it was a large metal tin, sitting there stuffed with notes and coins, too easy...
“HEY YOU YA THIEVIN BASTARDS!”
He snatched the tin and stuffed it underneath his coat as he heard the cry coming from the flat stair, and by the time he had pulled himself out of the van, big fat Giuseppe was tearing his way down the pathway at the pace of a milk float whilst trying to pull his trousers up at the same time.
“AH’LL PHONE THE POLIS OAN YE’S!”
“Away back in an ride they waves big boy!” shouted Jimmy as they legged it round the corner, pishing themselves laughing at what they had just witnessed.
The racket blaring its way down the flat stair was unbearable as they made their way up the steps to Joe’s flat. There was a high pitched squealing noise that sounded like one of those nippy little bastards from that cartoon the Chipmunks, behind it a frantic beat that reminded Billy what it sounded like when you cranked up the tempo on a record player.
“What the fuck are they listenin tae?” said Billy as he thumped the door. Billy had seen Joe in some conditions but even by his standards it was an eye opener when the door opened revealing pupils like black holes, a twisted jaw and a stripped torso drenched in sweat.
The living room was in its usual chaotic state, Mayfair magazines lying everywhere, pinups stapled to the walls. In one corner there was a shelf stacked full of pirate videos, in the other a wardrobe jam-packed with counterfeit clothing. In the middle of the room was big George in a world of his own, eyes closed, hands outstretched, reaching for the ceiling. He jumped out of his trance the moment Billy placed a hand on his shoulder, wondering if his old mucker was alright or not.
“BILLY!” George embraced him in a sweaty hug that had him gasping for air. After pulling himself away he looked down to see a plastic bag in Georges hand within which there were five tablets.
“You dinnae wantae know what I’ve been through tae get ma hands on these hings but fuck me it wis worth it. Take one ay these, and I swear tae God that music will be the best thing you have ever heard!”
“What are they?” said Billy with curiosity as the rest of the room crowded round.
“Ecstasy. We both hud one at two o clock the day an we’ve been like this ever since they kicked in! MELTED!”
“Ah swear tae God this is the highest Ah’ve been in my life,” said Joe “It’s hard tae describe man, just feel this pure warmth right through me. It’s like, spiritual. Just feel like Ah love every cunt! See this wee cunt here!” Joe flung a sweaty arm around Jimmy’s neck forcing him to pull himself away, wiping his face with his sleeve as Billy looked on with amusement. “Ah’ve known this wee bastard since we were both three year auld, ye ken that? Three! Love um like he’s ma brother.”
“Dae those pills turn ye intae a bender?” said Billy, prompting an outburst of laughter.
“Here!” shouted George, opening the plastic bag and tipping the five remaining pills into his sweaty palm. “Fuck the acid. An fuck ma old man tae, these are on him!”
Once the pill had kicked in fully the music sounded heavenly. The thumping beats had everyone bouncing about Joe’s living room with joyous abandon, Billy had never seen anything like it. For the first time in his life he felt nothing but pure, natural love and warmth for his fellow man, for his brothers. He didn’t care that he was an unemployed bum that had to steal to get by. He didn’t care that his dad was an evil drunk. He just didn’t care. Just being alive felt beautiful all of a sudden, now that it had been freed of all the painstaking trappings that weighed it down. That little pill had turned the dark world around him full of threat and turmoil into a sea of warmth and happiness. He felt a deeper connection to everything. Big George bounced into him interrupting his euphoric daydream. “They things are amazin eh!?”
“Aye man,” said Billy with a wide smile, as he sucked on the last part of his cigarette. He blew a stream of smoke into the air that rose like a great cloud in the sky. Then suddenly it hit him, like a bolt out of the same clear blue sky that was Joe’s ceiling. All the answers to their money problems lay within the chemical that made up that small white pill that was going to change the world as they knew it.
Ya fuckin dancer...
19
Sean felt the nerves piercing him like little pins as he stood at the gates of the infamous Barlinnie flanked by Uncle Dougie and John Spencer, with the rest of the welcoming mob standing behind. His Dad’s release had stirred up some painful shit inside, as much as his front suggested otherwise. There was still a small part of him, that bewildered thirteen-year-old boy that resented his father for getting sent down for all those years. It was a major life event that had effectively split up the whole family. Not only did Sean lose his dad, but his mum Cindy too, who upped sticks and emigrated to Canada with his two sisters shortly afterwards, having grown sick and tired of the life of crime she had married into so young. Cindy tried to take Sean with her but Dougie blocked the move, backed heavily by David from his jail cell. Sean had stayed in touch with them both for a few years by letter but somewhere along the line something deep inside of him said that holding onto that massive part of his past was far more painful than simply letting go. In burying that part of him Sean had in a sense buried the ability to feel deep affection or emotion on any level for anyone of the opposite sex, whether it be Kim his loyal partner of five years, or any of his many other conquests. Letting himself get too close was just too much of a risk to take. On the flip side, after burying the troubles of that sad, pitiful wee teenager, what had emerged was a clever, cunning young guy with wily street smarts and a flare for the drug business.
Aye he was a smart mother-fucker alright. Could have gone to any college or uni in the country and passed any number of degrees with flying colours if he’d so desired. Fact is he scored passes in most of his O levels without even breaking a sweat, with most teachers crying out for more application. Mr McDowell in particular had him marked down for a Masters in Economics or Business Management, but unfortunately for Mr McDowell, all Sean’s application had gone into the family business, which just so happened to involve drugs.
Now, at the age of twenty-seven, most of Dougie’s distribution lines ran through him. The problem with the current model was that his Dad was now up for release. Sean knew his father felt he had earned a hefty chunk of Dougie’s business after taking fourteen long years in one of Scotland’s most notorious prisons for the family, and rightly so. He also knew however that what his father saw as compensation and what his Uncle saw as compensation for all those years inside were two very different things. He drew in a deep breath as he looked up at those six Victorian chimneys sitting loftily atop the notorious Bar L and watched them chugging out thick smoke, as he subtly slipped the screw top coke container from his back pocket. He needed a pick-me-up to kill those nagging nerves, and it was preemo shit.
His father didn't look a great deal different than he had on Sean’s last visit as he approached, with the heavy white gate clanking shut behind him. The thin greying hair now reached down to his shoulders, the face drawn in with an angular jaw much like his own, and stern squinting eyes. The difference was he now wore a look of triumph hiding the bitterness that was boiling angrily beneath the surface.
“Where’s the fuckin women, eh!?” he screamed as he swaggered toward them, sparking laughter not just from the welcoming mob but from the screws standing at the gate.
“Dinnae worry, Ah’ve got that covered,” said John, who winked and laughed as he approached. The two old jail buddies threw a few pr
etend jabs at one another before embracing in a hug.
“Been a long time, brother,” said John.
“Aye a bit too long eh?” said Davy, as Dougie stood patiently in line in front of Sean.
Whilst the taller of the two, there was a fair difference in bulk between Sean’s father and uncle. What the old man lacked in build however he made up for with a psychopathic temper and large bony hands capable of hellish violence. There was a firm handshake and a brief hug, devoid of the warmth you would expect. “Good tae see ye David,” said Dougie as Davy pulled back, his eyes squinting suspiciously like he was trying to sniff out any falseness.
“Good tae be out Dougie, good tae be out, wee brother.”
As they parted, Sean stood there, hands in his pockets, smiling awkwardly. His father pulled him close and flung an arm around his neck. “C’mere you. Too cool fer school this one eh?” Davy synched him into a tight hug and spoke quietly but firmly in his ear. “Yer old man’s back fer good ye hear me son? It's me an you now, all the fuckin way. Ah’m no going nowhere again so help me God.”
They retreated to John’s associates strip joint for drinks. They were met by a hefty doorman standing against the wall, arms crossed, staring into space. He had a deformed nose with scars etched into his battle hardened face. A cheap tacky looking sign hung above the doorway. “The Dancer” was the name. After a brief, formal grunt he attempted to administer a pat down to check for weapons which John halted with one hand signal, clearly aggrieved that the bouncer would dare to administer such a check on one of his party. He sent them inside the club, his mug now flushed red as he stared down at the ground, a massive bag of nerves now as Spencer glared at him. Sean winked at a smoking hot redhead as they strolled across the red hexagonal dance floor, with blue and white neon lights above. It was still early doors and there were only a handful of punters inside, the volume soon rose when the sizeable organised crime contingent swallowed up the bar.
Pure Angst Page 9
