Revenge Runs Deep

by Pat Young

  ‘Ruby, what’s happened?’

  ‘Oh, Violet, we lost poor Molly. It’s her funeral in the morning.’

  Sheila knew Molly was Ruby’s last link to sanity. ‘The only one in here that talks any sense,’ was how Ruby had described her friend. ‘Jinty’s nice enough, but she comes and goes, if you know what I mean,’ she’d said, tapping one finger to the side of her head.

  Remembering how much she missed her conversations with Liz, Sheila spoke with genuine empathy when she told Ruby how sorry she was for her loss. She took out a pack of tissues and handed one to Ruby.

  ‘There’s a nice fresh paper hanky for you, and I’ve got plenty more if you need them.’

  The old lady gave her nose a mighty blow, loud enough to rouse the nearest sleeper, making them both smile. She gave her eyes a quick wipe, and tucked the hanky up her sleeve.

  ‘What happened to Molly? Or would you rather not talk about it?’

  ‘No, I don’t mind talking about it. Not much point being squeamish about death. Not when you get to my age.’ She looked around and added, ‘Especially when you live in a place like this. God’s waiting room, right enough.’

  ‘Molly seemed fine the last time I saw her.’

  ‘As fine as you can be at ninety with a failing heart. But the minute you take to your bed, that’s it. Pneumonia gets you. That’s what got Molly.’

  ‘What time’s her funeral?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter, I won’t be going anyway. I’ve already phoned Tommy to ask. Says he can’t take time off for every death in this place, or he’d never be at his work.’

  ‘Oh, dear me,’ said Sheila, feigning shock and surprise while feeling neither, ‘That’s a little bit harsh.’

  ‘Harsh? You don’t know the half of it, Violet.’

  Although another funeral was the last place she wanted to go Sheila did some quick calculations in her head, wondering if she could risk making an offer without checking her diary. Another look at Ruby’s sad eyes convinced her. ‘I’ll take you to Molly’s funeral.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t ask you to do that, Violet.’

  ‘You’re not asking, Ruby. I’m offering. In fact, I’m insisting.’

  Ruby started to cry again. ‘Thank you so much,’ she murmured between sobs.

  Sheila unfolded another tissue and handed it over, saying, ‘Where’s that tea trolley? I could murder a cuppa.’ She had to fight the urge to say, ‘and I could murder your son.’

  Sheila had called her secretary first thing to say she would be out of school this morning, attending the funeral of an elderly aunt. She was waiting for the taxi she’d ordered, checking the mirror to make sure her grey ‘Violet’ wig was secure, when her secretary rang.

  ‘I’m so glad I caught you. I’ve had HQ on the phone. Mr Smeaton wants you in his office asap.’

  ‘Please call Carole back for me and ask her to pass on the message to Mr Smeaton that I have promised to attend the funeral of an old lady who is unlikely to have many mourners at her graveside. Ask her to tell him I have no intention of breaking that promise.’

  Sheila heard the gasp of disbelief followed by a silence. She knew her secretary was waiting to hear her say she had been joking. She hung up.

  Ruby was sitting in the hall waiting for her. She was wearing a black woollen coat and a hat. ‘You must be boiling hot, Ruby,’ she said, as Doreen let her in.

  ‘I told her she could wait till you arrived to put her coat on, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Off you go then, Ruby,’ she said, helping the old woman to her feet. ‘Give Molly a good send-off for us, will you? There should be a nice big floral tribute from all at Briargrove. Look out for it.’

  Doreen turned to Sheila. ‘She was such a sweet person, was Molly. A real lady, with immaculate manners. We’ll miss her.’

  ‘Right,’ said Sheila, taking Ruby’s arm. ‘Let’s go.’

  Sheila was hoping nobody would give her a second glance at Molly’s funeral. It would be a good test of the Violet disguise.

  She needn’t have worried. As it turned out, apart from Ruby and herself, the only other mourners appeared to be members of Molly’s family. As they enjoyed a ‘wee refreshment’ after the service, Ruby seemed to relax and started to chat. Maybe the small brandy had loosened her tongue or perhaps it was the freedom to speak without fear of being overheard in the lounge at Briargrove. Whatever the catalyst, Ruby wasn’t holding back today.

  ‘See when our Tommy told me he wasn’t taking me to my friend’s funeral? It was the final nail in the coffin for me.’ Realising what she’d said, Ruby grimaced. ‘Ooops, that’s not the thing to say at a funeral, is it, Violet?’

  ‘Oh, I think Molly would have seen the funny side, don’t you?’

  Ruby giggled, like a teenage girl trapped inside an old woman’s body. Then she got serious. ‘Know what he said? He told me he’d better things to do with his time. Now, Violet, I ask you. What kind of a son says that to his old mother? The next funeral could be mine.’

  Sheila patted Ruby’s hand. She had no answer.

  ‘Well, I’ve had enough. I’m finished with him. I’m going to instruct Doreen not to let him in the next time he comes.’

  While Ruby ranted about Smeaton’s failures as a son, Sheila was thinking fast. If Ruby severed all ties, the plan for the abduction would go up in flames.

  ‘It sounds like his job keeps him very busy and he seems to be an important man. Aren’t you even a wee bit proud of him, Ruby?’

  ‘He’s done well for himself. I’ll give him that. But I’d rather he emptied dustbins and was a nice person. I wonder where I went wrong.’

  ‘I expect you did your best, Ruby. I don’t think you should blame yourself for your son’s shortcomings.’

  Ruby leaned close. ‘You know what else I often wonder?’ She waited, obviously expecting a response from Violet.

  She obliged, ‘What?’

  Ruby lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘I often wonder who his father was. Our Pearl would never say. Didn’t matter what my mother and father said or did. Pearl never let on.’

  ‘Did she have a boyfriend at the time?’

  ‘Not that we knew of. She always was a dark horse, our Pearl. My father doted on her, so she was spoiled rotten. If I’d been the one expecting a baby with no ring on my finger, he’d have thrown me out. But not our Pearl. She could do no wrong.’

  Around them, tables were starting to clear ‘We should probably think about leaving now, Ruby. Let’s go and say goodbye to Molly’s family, shall we?’

  By the time they got back in the car, Ruby seemed to have sobered up, but no matter what Violet said, she was adamant she would have nothing more to do with Tommy.

  ***

  CHAPTER 41

  Joe had decided that, instead of another useless indoor education session, he was taking these boys to the bothy. They could help him get the place organized, under the guise of learning about equipment and keeping it maintained. He could argue the merits of the session if Smeaton took him to task over it, although frankly, he didn’t give a damn.

  This would probably be their last day up there together. Stowed in the back of the van was a monster bag of goodies and a dozen cans of Irn-Bru.

  He checked his watch. They were late. He felt as deflated as a burst airbed. He hadn’t seen some of the lads since he’d been forced to introduce the ‘Indoor Learning Modules’. TJ rarely missed a session and there was usually a core of diehards who attended. Jimbo had dropped out, fulfilling his own prophecy, if the rumours were true. Once, at the top of a hill, he’d told Joe how great it was to come to the bothy. ‘See this hill-climbing an canoeing an stuff?’ he’d said, ‘It’s the only thing that keeps me aff the drugs, Sur, ah swear tae God.’

  Joe crossed his fingers, expecting nothing but hoping some of the regulars might still appear. He would wait another five minutes then give it up as a bad job.

  A burst of profanity echoed along the corridor. ‘Whit the fuck are we gonnae tell the Big M
an?’ muttered Dykesy, as he opened the door.

  Joe had learned never to ask. They’d tell him in their own good time. ‘Morning, lads. How do you fancy a day at the bothy?’

  ‘Ah thought the bothy was getting shut, Sur?’

  ‘It is, but there’s a fair bit of work to be done first. I could use some help up there and I’d rather have you boys than some of these numpties from the council. What do you say? Are you up for it?’

  The lads looked at one another. They were hardly dressed for the hills. Dykesy was in a pristine white tracksuit with brand new trainers to match. TJ, as usual, was clad in a thin t-shirt that looked as if it could use a wash. Dangermoose was sporting a designer-label hoody that was either a knock-off from the Barras or the result of a ‘five finger discount’ at Braehead.

  ‘I’ve brought a picnic,’ said Joe in a coaxing voice that made them laugh.

  That was the decider. Slug was already making for the van, saying, ‘Don’t let me eat any more than three packets o’ crisps, Sur. I’m on a diet.’

  ‘That’s the best news I’ve heard all week,’ said Joe, thinking the boy’s behind did look a bit reduced though it was hard to tell with the out-of-shape tracky bottoms Slug favoured. ‘What’s the reason for the diet, if you don’t mind me asking?’

  ‘Decided to go to the army, same as my big brother. He says it’s a great life. Even if you get shot at, it’s a better life than here, ye know?’

  ‘Ye can get shot in Bankside, Sluggo. Ye don’t have to go to Afghanistan. Wee Malky got shot in the arse on Friday night.’

  ‘Aye, wi an air gun? Some Muppet shooting oot his granny’s bedroom windae?’

  ‘We should pure go to New York, Dykesy. See some real gangstas.’

  And so it went on, while Joe drove to the bothy. As he slowed down to let a sheep wander across the road in front the van, Joe smiled and braced himself for the obscene jokes he heard every time.

  ‘Haw, Sur, whit dae ye call a sheep wi nae legs?’

  This was a new one. There was a pause while they all waited for the answer. When Slug shouted, ‘A cloud!’ Joe felt relieved.

  Before the van had a chance to stop, the boys were tumbling out, raring to go. Joe slid from the driver’s seat and stretched his arms and legs, easing the stiffness out of his old limbs. As the boys disappeared into the bothy, all he could hear was the lonely call of a curlew. In the weak winter sun the reservoir lay before him like a scatter of sequins.

  Against his better judgement he had been talked into letting the lads use the canoes one last time although, officially, all outward bound activities had stopped. The boys had promised to stay near the bank. They knew how suddenly the floor of Loch Etrin fell away. He’d warned them often enough about the underwater precipice and the unfathomable depths below.

  He helped Dangermoose carry his canoe to the water’s edge and waited there for the others to catch up.

  ‘Sur,’ said TJ, when he arrived, ‘Your phone keeps ringing in the van. Sounds like somebody really wants to talk to you.’

  ‘Mibbe it’s your boss, eh, Big Man?’ said Dykesy.

  ‘Lads, if I go and get my phone, you need to promise me you won’t go out on the water till I come back.’ He looked from one face to the other. Liam, the least trustworthy in the group, was smirking. ‘I mean it, Liam. I’m serious. You know how deep it gets. If you drown in there, your body will never be found. And I mean, never.’

  Joe paused to let the severity of his words sink in.

  ‘Nobody goes out onto the water till I come back. Is that clear, boys?’

  ‘Crystal,’ said Dykesy and the others nodded in agreement.

  Joe left them sitting in a circle on the grass discussing TJ’s new ‘burd’ and went to check his phone.

  He was shutting the van door when Dykesy appeared at his side. ‘Sur, you need to come,’ he screamed, grabbing at Joe’s arm. ‘Slug’s tipped his canoe and Liam’s went in after him.’

  Joe raced down the short slope and straight into the water. Dangermoose hesitated in the shallows while Liam was in up to his chest, trying to haul Slug from under his upturned canoe.

  ‘Right, lads. On the count of three, I’m going under to push Slug up. You try to roll the canoe. One. Two. Three.’ Joe dived and grabbed the dead weight that was Slug. The huge boy did not seem to be struggling. Joe feared the worst. With an almighty heave he shoved Slug towards the surface and felt the momentum shift as the boys rolled the boat. When he came up for air the canoe was sitting on the surface with Slug slumped over unconscious, or worse.

  ‘Push him to the shore,’ Joe shouted. ‘We have to get him out of the canoe.’ Dangermoose was sobbing. Dykesy took one look at him and said, ‘Shut it, wee man, and help.’

  They hauled the canoe to the tiny beach and grabbed Slug by his life jacket, dragging him on to the sand where he flopped like a beached whale. Joe’s training kicked in. ‘Phone an ambulance,’ he shouted and put his lips to Slug’s to administer mouth-to-mouth. Slug spluttered and shouted, ‘Naw man, no that.’

  Joe sat back on his heels and thanked God. The boys cheered and high-fived each other.

  When the adrenalin rush passed, Joe felt sick. Images of what might have been flashed through his mind. His face and Slug’s splashed across the front page of tabloids. Accusations of negligence - a field day for Smeaton and his like. Dismissal. Shame and guilt dogging him for the rest of his life.

  He deserved to feel guilty and ashamed. He had left excited teenagers unattended and was stupid enough to trust them to stay out of the water. He looked at Slug, surrounded by his mates, apparently none the worse for his adventure. ‘You sure you’re okay, Slug?’ he asked.

  When the boy nodded, ‘Aye, Sur. No worries,’ Joe remembered the ambulance that would be hurtling along the main road, sirens blaring. Fuck, this would all come out now. ‘Cancel that ambulance,’ he shouted at Dykesy.

  ‘No problemo, Big Man. Didnae make the call.’ He held up his phone and shook his head. ‘Signal’s shite.’

  Relief washed over Joe. He looked at the boys, who were soaked to the skin, and noticed they were all shivering. Only Slug seemed fine, basking in the warmth of popularity.

  Joe burst into the circle and grabbed Slug by the shoulder of his life jacket. The boy was so heavy he barely moved. Joe lowered his face to Slug’s and said quietly, ‘What the hell were you playing at?’ Then he straightened up and shouted, ‘What were you all playing at? You promised me you’d stay out of the water.’

  The boys hung their heads, knowing they had narrowly avoided tragedy. He didn’t have to spell it out for them. He looked away towards the hills, his eyes filling with tears. Slug struggled to his feet and came towards him. ‘Mr Docherty?’ Joe did not respond. ‘Please, Sur?’ Joe looked at the boy’s face. ‘Sorry. Ah thought it would be a laugh to kid on ah wis drownin, ye know?’

  ‘But why did you keep kidding on?’

  ‘Ah could tell it wis a pure panic and ah wis too scared to admit it wis a wind-up. Ah thought you would kill me. Ah’m a hundred and fifty per cent sorry.’

  The other boys had gathered round, listening. Joe knew his reaction in the next few minutes could finish his relationship with these lads. If he got it wrong, all his work with them would be lost and he’d be just one more adult who’d let them down. He had to swallow his pride and accept Slug’s apology, then use it as a learning experience. For all of them, the boys and himself.

  He looked at their faces, one by one, stopping at Slug. Joe poked his finger into Slug’s shoulder. The others took a step back, readying themselves for fight or flight.

  ‘I will tell you this, boy. If you ever pull a stunt like that again …’

  Slug looked scared.

  Joe grinned. ‘I will give you mouth to mouth resuscitation, whether you’re breathing or not.’ He lunged at Slug, as if he were going to kiss him and the boys hooted and howled with delight. Grabbing Slug in a bear hug, Joe said, ‘Thank God you’re okay, lad.’

>   ‘Nice work, Big Man,’ said Dykesy.

  ‘I don’t know about you lads, but I’m freezing. Let’s get into that bothy and get warm and dry. Then we’ll break out the picnic. What do you say?’

  ‘Bring it on,’ shouted Dangermoose, ‘I’m that hungry I could eat a baby’s arse through a dirty nappy.’

  From long years of experience Joe knew boys that age never wasted time talking when there was food to be eaten. Especially shared food. He waited until every last scrap had been scoffed, then said, ‘Lads, there’s two things we need to do. We have to get those canoes back up here and loaded on the trailer so I can take them away. And we need to talk about what happened this morning to see if we can learn anything from it.’

  Liam was the first to speak. ‘Sur, I have to tell ye, like, I learned more this mornin than, like, all the other canoe trips put together.’

  Joe decided he’d misjudged this boy. ‘Oh aye?’ he said, giving Liam the chance to say more.

  ‘Like, you had a good reason for, like, tellin us to wait. We were, like, pure mental to go in the water without you.’

  The others were muttering in agreement, but Liam hadn’t finished ‘I learned other stuff as well, like.’ The boy hesitated.

  Joe wasn’t sure whether Liam was struggling for the right words or the courage to say them in front of his pals.

  ‘Like, I learned to be, like, brave and that.’

  To Joe’s surprise, there were no catcalls, no banter.

  ‘And I learned, like, stayin calm and doin somethin to help was better than, like, just watchin or runnin away.’

  ‘I know what you mean, man,’ said Dykesy. ‘No offence, Danger, but you pure kinda went to pieces.’

  Dangermoose looked mortified and cleared his throat before he spoke. ‘Aye, well, there’s a reason for that.’

  Everyone waited for the boy to continue. The only sound in the room was the kettle coming to the boil.

  Dangermoose coughed before he spoke. ‘Ah thought we’d lost Slug, so ah did. And ah couldnae take it. No after what’s happened to Jimbo.’