Dumfries (57 page)

 
“Them? Those damn interfering hippies, wandering about in their stripy tank-top jumpers and beards?  Now what would someone like me want to waste precious time, talking about them for?” he’d demanded tae know, glaring at her through they mad eyes ae his.

  She’d always found George Crawford strange.  His erratic mood swings and lack ae patience towards staff and prisoners alike, always left her feeling oan edge whenever she wis in his midst.  During his chairing ae the quiz discussion, he’d seemed alert and in control, bit it seemed tae her that the sound ae the lock oan his office door clicking shut efter the departure ae Father Leonard and the prison officers, hid been the trigger fur him tae crumble before her eyes.

  “Why don’t we go and sit over there,” The Governor hid finally said stiffly, pointing towards the hard-backed chair in front ae his desk, as he abruptly stood up fae the saft seating area and practically ran roond his desk tae his leather chair. “I wanted to have a word with you…” he’d said, a sickly wane smile appearing oan that face ae his, and whit looked like a nervous tick suddenly revving up tae the right side ae his left eye, before he drifted aff intae a heavy, embarrassing silence.

  Fanny hidnae been too sure if it wis her that hid upset him…something she’d been wearing, something she’d said or if it wis the room itsel.  Her initial thoughts wur that it hid been the room, bit she jist couldnae put her finger oan it. She seemed tae remember him hivving hid a wee collection ae potted cactus scattered aboot, up oan the windae ledge and filing cabinet, as well as there hivving been a large Christmas cactus that used tae sit perched in the middle ae his coffee table, looking close tae death through neglect.  She’d wance deliberately taken a wee medicine bottle, filled wae water, in her work bag, tae a meeting wae The Governor in the hope that she’d maybe get an opportunity tae gie the Christmas cactus a wee drink, bit she’d never goat the chance.  She’d been too scared tae ask him if he’d mind if she watered his plants. Over a period ae a few months, she’d noticed that they’d started tae disappear, sometimes wan or two at a time, until there wis none.  It hid made a stark office even mair depressing than whit it hid been before. 

  Whit hid happened next hid totally disarmed Fanny and thrown her intae a state ae total bewilderment and confusion.  George Crawford, Governor ae Dumfries YOI, hid suddenly, withoot any warning, burst intae tears and began sobbing.  At first, she’d sat, glued tae her chair, unable tae move.  She hidnae been exactly too sure as tae whit she should’ve done next.  Should she run oot and ask Miss Beaker tae come quick and attend tae The Governor?  Should she ring fur Mr Pubis, the medical officer?  Before she could respond, The Governor hid broken through her panic.

  “I’m sorry…I…er…didn’t mean to, er, do that, Mrs Flaw,” he’d mumbled, before bursting intae a further fit ae sobbing, blindly reaching fur his Kleenex box and shaking it aboot in front ae himsel in frustration, efter finding it empty.

  Fanny hid instinctively pulled a tissue oot ae the sleeve ae her jumper, stretching across the desk tae him, while praying that it wis clean.  The Governor hid gratefully taken it and dabbed they eyes ae his wae it before noisily blowing his nose.

  “Governor…sir…George…look, why don’t we go back to the seats we were sitting on earlier?  They’ll be more comfortable,” she’d suggested, staunin up, though no sure if he’d follow her.

  Withoot a word, The Governor hid stood up and walked roond his desk, wan haun covering his eyes, while the other felt aboot in front ae him, like a blind man, brushing past her towards the comfy seats.  By the time Fanny hid sat doon opposite him, he wis sitting, bent forward, his heid in his hauns.

  “I’m going to lose her and I don’t know if I can do anything about it,” he’d mumbled through his fingers.

  “Who?” she’d asked.

  “Alison.”

  “Oh, George, I’m truly sorry.  For some reason, I was under the impression that you and Alison had…er…sorted out your relationship troubles years ago,” Fanny hid soothed, reaching across and taking his hauns in hers.

  “We have,” he’d sniffed.

  “Oh?” she’d replied, confused, starting tae feel even mair baffled and wondering whit wis coming next.

  “Are you aware of what’s taking place this weekend?”

  “Er…no,” she’d replied, trying tae remember if it was the queen’s birthday or if the honours list had been announced and The Governor’s name wisnae oan it again this year.

  “The visits.”

  “Visits?”

  “Yes, the visits,” he’d snarled, snatching his hauns oot fae hers, letting oot a stuttering sounding sob as he gasped fur air.

  “Look, Governor…George…I’m not too sure what it is that you’re saying, or what the significance is?”

  “That bunch of psychopathic killers are being visited this weekend.”

  “I’m sorry?” she’d asked, still baffled, wondering whit he wis oan aboot.

  “Were you aware that old Miss Pettigrew, president of the local WRI, and chairman of the institution visitors’ refreshments committee had died?”

  “Yes, I attended her funeral, along with Alison.  Although she was ninety-years-old and had been suffering from dementia for the past seven years, she’ll be terribly missed,” Fanny hid replied, still confused, trying no tae smile, thinking aboot the legendary chaos that would noo become part ae Dumfries’s colourful visiting room history, noo that Miss Pettigrew wis no longer wae them.

  “So, were you aware that Miss Goldmine, her second-in-command, has stepped in to the breach until they get someone on a permanent basis?”

  “Y-e-s,” Fanny hid replied slowly, frowning, still trying tae figure oot whit the governor wis getting at.

  “Yes, and in the meantime, Miss Goldmine has asked Alison if she would volunteer this weekend to serve up the refreshments to the inmates and their visitors.”

  “Yes?”

  “You still don’t get it, do you, Mrs…er…Fanny?”

  “I’m sorry, Governor…er…George.  I’m not sure where you’re coming from?”

  “Those responsible…those killers…Alison will be confronted by the bast…er…those responsible for inflicting those terrible injuries upon her…her person,” The Governor whispered, before starting tae sob quietly again, pressing the noo disintegrating tissue against they tearstained eyes ae his.

“Oh, George, I’m sorry, I truly am,” Fanny hid replied, reaching across the table and taking his hauns in hers fur the second time, wondering whether she should ignore or reach across and pick the wee white flecks ae white tissue aff ae that seven o’clock shadow underneath they tear-stained cheeks ae his.

  “I’ve tried to stop her but she won’t listen to any reasoning on my part.”

  “Does she know…er…that Gucci will be in attendance on Saturday?”

  “And Sunday.  No, but she will, as soon as she sees the visitors’ list.  What am I to do?”

  “I think you should tell her.”

  “Believe you me, that will not make any difference Mrs Flaw…er…Fanny.  You know her…you’ve been friends with her long enough to know what a determined women she is.”

  “Does Alison know the identity of Gucci?” Fanny asked.  “And that he’s an inmate down here in Dumfries?”

  “Yes,” he replied, nodding.  “She brings his name up every now and again, but I usually manage to get her to change the subject.  She’s curious, and who could blame her?  It’s been nearly three years now since she lost the power of speech.  Sometimes she’ll write out a question on her pad, asking me what he’s like, if he looks like a killer, does he show any remorse…that kind of stuff.”

  “So, what are you going to do?” Fanny asked him gently.

  “I spoke to Mr Baker, The Chief.  He’s promised to have SO Dick and a squad of his best officers in full riot gear on standby, should Gucci try to attack her,” The Governor replied, his voice hardening.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “And an ambulance parked this side of the gatehouse with her blood group, just in case.”

  “George, Tony Gucci will not even acknowledge Alison’s presence, let alone do something as stupid as attack her,” Fanny hid exclaimed, astonished at whit she wis hearing.

  “Oh, and you know that, do you?” he’d retorted angrily.

  “Governor…George…listen to me, please!   I know Tony Gucci.  There is no way he would do something like that.  He’s too smart…way too smart.”

  “I can’t take the risk.”

  “George, look,” Fanny squealed, trying tae contain her panic. “Having Mr Dick in charge of some sort of mufti-squad at a visiting session will only make things worse and might even provoke a situation that doesn’t have to happen.”

  “I love Alison.  She’s been through too much.  I can’t just stand around, waiting for something to happen.  I would never forgive myself if Gucci or that thug, Johnston, attacked her.  I nearly lost her once…I’m determined that that won’t happen again.”

  “Look… please… listen to me.  If Mr Dick arrives in that visiting room and shows any disrespect to any of those visitors, not only will you have a riot on your hands where Alison could get injured, but this whole establishment will erupt,” she’d pleaded. “Please, Governor…George, don’t antagonise the prisoners in front of their families and visitors.”

  “I just can’t sit back and do nothing.  I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

  “Look, why don’t I speak to Alison?”

  “And say what?”

  “I’ll tell her the truth about who’s going to be in the visiting room.”

  “She won’t listen.  She’ll still insist on carrying out her WRI duties. That’s just who she is…the show must go on and all that.”

  “In that case, I’ll be in attendance too.  I’m a member.  I’m sure old Miss Goldmine will be delighted with an extra pair of hands.”

  “Hmm, I’m not sure about that,” The Governor hid said doubtfully, bit clearly willing tae grasp at straws.

  “George, please give me a chance?  Don’t allow Mr Dick or Mr Hamilton across to that visiting room with a group of riot-gear-clad officers in tow, I beg you,” Fanny hid pleaded.

  Fanny hid finally managed tae persuade the governor tae leave it up tae her tae speak tae his wife, Alison.  Fanny and Alison hid been friends since Jardine, Jake and Fanny hid moved doon tae Dumfries.  Fanny hid gone roond tae The Governor’s hoose oan the way hame.  She’d informed Alison aboot Tony Gucci, Snappy Johnston and Pat McCabe being present in the visiting room.  Alison hid taken the news quietly bit hid confirmed that she wis still determined tae turn up tae dae her WRI duty.  She wisnae prepared tae let auld Miss Goldmine doon.  Efter Fanny hid gone hame and thought aboot her conversation, she’d been surprised that Alison Crawford hid taken the news so quietly and dignified.  If she wis honest wae hersel, Fanny wisnae too bothered aboot the reaction ae Gucci…efter aw, he wisnae tae know who Alison wis…and it wisnae as if Alison wid be in a position tae confront him, given that she couldnae speak.  Fanny wis mair concerned as tae how Alison Crawford hersel wid cope wae being in the same room as the people who wur suspected ae killing her former lover and disfiguring her fur life at the same time. 

  The noise ae a vehicle arriving and the slamming ae the metal inner gates doon in the gatehoose, brought her oot ae her reverie.  She looked at the clock.  Two minutes past five.  She stood up and put her jaicket oan.  Slinging her bag o’er her shoulders, she picked up the pile ae ‘Van’ magazines, and stepped oot intae the corridor, feeling chuffed wae hersel that she’d managed tae lock her office door withoot them ending up scattered aw o’er the shiny, polished flair ae the corridor.  She’d drapped the idea ae raising the discussion regarding a possible early release date fur Gucci, Johnston and McCabe, through the new pilot project that the Stirling University team hid come up wae, fur the time being… especially efter The Governor’s breakdoon… and the fact that he’d asked her if she wis aware that Snappy Johnston, wis the main suspect fur stabbing the YO, Fletcher, in the eye.

  “
Good evening.  My name is John Turney and these are the news headlines in Scotland tonight.

  Fears are growing after the disappearance of a fifteen-year-old schoolgirl who has not been seen since Monday night after she left a local youth club in Rutherglen.  Monica Dalziel was last seen speaking to two men who were sitting in a parked van, thought to be a blue Transit that was parked beside the recreation ground on Limeside Avenue three nights ago.  The distressed family of the girl have told police that her disappearance is totally out of character and that they have no knowledge of their daughter having had a boyfriend.  Inspector Ralph McDowell…

  Bus drivers in the city are threatening an all-out walkout after another weekend of violence in which four colleagues were assaulted whilst on duty in and around the city centre last weekend…

  And finally, a young entrepreneur was awarded a Special Recognition of Achievement at the city’s Edward Hotel last night by business leaders.  Nineteen-year-old Jake McAlpine, owner of DIRTY JAKE’S BOUTIQUE, an upmarket fashionable clothing store in Buchanan Street, which specialises in providing fashionable designer clothes to the city’s young, trendy and wealthy, received the recognition after only eighteen months in business.  Tom Goodall, Glasgow Business Association’s President remarked at the ceremony that it was young entrepreneurs like Mr McAlpine that the city wishes to recognise and promote, as they are the business leaders of the future.  Our reporter, Francis Copeland went along to DIRTY JAKE’S to sip a glass of champagne and to find out what all the fuss was about…”