Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 (18 page)

BOOK: Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2
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  “Er, well, Ah represent a lot ae people.  Two weeks is a long time in this business.  If Ah did, Ah’m sure he goat the best advice Legal Aid could pay fur.”

  “He goat the jail oan the best ae that Legal Aid advice.”

  “Mrs Taylor, Ah’m sure Mr Howdy done his best fur yer boy as we’re daeing the best we kin dae fur youse aw the day,” Barker retorted, looking aboot at the faces ae the wummin, trying tae relieve the tension.

  “Look, we’ll gie youse a few minutes tae discuss the matter amongst yersels and we’ll come back tae see whit youse want us tae dae.”

  “Aye, piss aff, Barker.  Ye must think we’re barking mad, expecting us tae listen tae the shite we’ve heard oot ae youse pair ae cowboys,” Sandra replied.

  “Ye’re barking up the wrang tree if ye think we’re gonnae listen tae you and that Roy Roger there, ya pair ae useless bampots, ye.  Oor charges against the polis fur assault still staun.”

  Nowan said a word efter the briefs disappeared.  They aw jist looked at each other.  Helen felt that since it hid been her that hid goat them aw intae this situation, then it wid need tae be her that wid get them oot ae it.

  “So, who’ll be feeding yer weans, Sandra?” she asked.

  “Ach, Ah widnae worry aboot that.  That maw are mine will hiv nipped roond and stayed wae them tae let that Hammy ae mine get oot tae his work.”

  “And yersel, Mary, whit aboot you, hen?”

  “Ach, Ah widnae worry too much oan that score, Helen.  Even if Ah wis at hame, they probably widnae be eating because Ah’ve nothing in the hoose fur them tae eat,” Mary replied, looking at a few ae the other wummin, wae an embarrassed, apologetic smile oan her face.

  “Did some rich bitch no say wance ‘Jist let them eat scones’?” Betty asked oot loud.

  “Ah think it wis Josephine, some French Queen…and it wis cakes.  ‘Jist let them eat cake,’ she announced tae everywan efter she’d heard aboot people whinging that they’d nae breid tae eat,” Helen replied.

  “Aye, well, she obviously hidnae tasted Cathy’s wans.  Fucking awful, so they ur,” Betty said, and
everywan burst oot laughing, appreciating the delay in deciding whit they should dae aboot the offer fae JP.

  “Aye, well, it didnae stoap ye fae taking hauf a shoebox full ae them hame wae ye the last time ye left ma hoose, efter getting tore intae them, ya cheeky cow, ye.”

  “Aye, well, Ah’d ran oot ae coal briquettes and Ah wis desperate, if ma memory serves me well.  Ma weans wur bloody freezing, so they wur,” Betty said tae mair laughter.

  “Look, Ah’ve been here before wae that Liam Thompson wan.  There’s no way Ah’m pleading guilty tae gieing that big basturt the pleasure ae saying he’s goat wan o’er oan me.  Bit the rest ae youse?  If that pair ae eejits kin come up wae a good deal, then Ah think youse should aw go fur it,” Helen advised them.

  “No way!”

  “We’re aw in this thegither.”

  “Aye.”

  “Naw, listen up.  Youse aw need tae get hame.  Ah’m awright.  Ma lassies ur aw in their teens and kin look efter the place and themsels tae allow Jimmy tae get oot tae his work.”

  “Bit, Ah didnae dae anything,” wailed Marilyn Monroe.

  “Bit, Ah thought ye jist admitted that ye trampled oan they hee-haws ae his, Sharon?”

  “Ah did…twice.”

  “So, ye’re guilty then?”

  “It wis self-defence.”

  “As ye wur oan yer way back fae the shoaps?” Ann Jackson said drily.

  “Aye,” Marilyn replied, as everywan burst intae fits ae nervous giggling again.

  “So, there ye go then.  Plead guilty oan the basis that ye thought ye wur getting attacked and by the time ye realised it wis the polis, it wis too late.  The damage hid been done, bit despite the mistake, ye’re awfully sorry fur the misunderstaunin,” Helen said, looking aboot at them aw.

  “There’s no way Ah’m leaving ye, Helen.  And anyway, ye heard that charlatan yersel.  Ah’m no part ae the deal,” Betty reminded her.

  “Listen, ya bunch ae eejits.  Youse aw need tae go fur the deal oan offer.  This is between me and that prick, Liam Thompson.  JP will be happy wae me, so he will.  If youse ur aw oot ae the road, it means Ah kin then call youse up as witnesses fur ma defence.”

  “We cannae leave Helen oan her tod oan this wan, girls,” Soiled Sally objected, looking at aw the wummin and getting nods ae support in return fae them aw.

  “Listen, Ah know whit Ah’m daeing here.  Youse need tae go fur it and get back hame.  Remember, we won.  We stoapped the sale, plus we managed tae pay aff wee Madge’s arrears.  Please?”

  “Whit dae ye think, girls?” Betty asked.

  “Ah’m no sure.”

  “Ah need time tae think aboot it.”

  “How the hell ur we gonnae get hame anyway?  There’s only three high-heeled shoes between the lot ae us, and only two hiv a heel left oan them,” Cathy complained, looking aboot.

  “Never mind that, hen.  So, it’s aw settled then?  Everywan, apart fae me, is prepared tae drap the assault charges against the polis and plead guilty tae breach ae the peace.  We’ll tell that pair ae fly-men whit we’ve come up wae when they come back,” Helen announced, before anywan could come back wae an alternative.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty Six

  “Thank ye aw fur coming the day.  We’d jist like tae update youse oan the latest developments regarding the boy, Samuel Kelly, who unfortunately died in a fire up in the Toonheid a few weeks ago.  Efter extensive local door-tae-door enquiries and during the course ae oor forensic investigation, in particular, The City ae Glesga Polis ur treating the death ae Samuel Kelly as suspicious,” Inspector Bobby Mack announced tae the assembled journalists.

  “Whit ur ye basing that oan, Inspector?” Swinton McLean asked.

  “We believe that flammable liquid, in the form ae petrol, might’ve been poured through wan ae the wee windaes oan the side ae the pigeon dookit.  We’ve been able tae ascertain that there wisnae a utensil or container inside the dookit that contained flammable liquid, therefore, oor suspicion, at this moment in time, is that the fire might, Ah’ll repeat that…might…hiv been started deliberately.”

  “Hiv ye any leads oan who the culprits ur?” Harold Sliver asked, pencil and notepad poised in his haun.

  “As ye well know, Harold, flying doos in the tenements and hoosing schemes is a big attraction fur aw these young wans throughoot the toon.  While it’s quite a competitive hobby, it kin also be a dangerous wan, wae the amounts ae money involved.  We’ve spoken tae the boy’s pals, who wur well-known in the area fur their interest in fleeing the doos.  It could be that some ae the local young wans goat up tae a bit ae mischief, withoot fully appreciating the consequences ae their actions, or it could be tae dae wae envy that the boy Kelly and his pals hid managed tae own their ain dookit.  Who knows?  That’s whit we’re trying tae establish at the moment.  When we get a result, we’ll get back tae youse,” The Inspector said, staunin up and nodding tae Sergeant Liam Thompson, tae let him know that the press conference wis o’er and done wae.

  “So, ye’re saying that it wis other young wans in the area who wur responsible then?” The Rat piped up fae the back row.

  “Whit Ah’m saying is that that’s wan line ae enquiry that we’re pursuing…aye,” The Inspector retorted, his eyes narrowing as he heided fur the door at the side ae the room.

  “So, there ur others then?” The Rat fired back, halting Inspector Mack mid-stride.

  He turned and glared at the reporter.

  “In an enquiry where suspicious circumstances ur suspected, there’s always other line ae enquiries.  So, if there’s nothing else, Ah’ll let youse get oan yer way. Ah know some ae youse want tae get doon tae the District Court tae cover whit’s happening doon there.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty Seven

  “Right, heid up the drive and turn left.  Stay oan this side ae the road till ye come tae the bus stoap.  Ye get a number twenty nine, and that’ll take ye right intae the toon centre.  Hiv ye goat that?” Slapper asked as he haunded Johnboy some plastic bus tokens at the reception desk.

  “Aye.”

  “So, whit ur ye waiting fur then?”

  “Kin Ah no get money insteid ae tokens?  Ah hate these things.  Everywan looks at ye when ye use them.”

  “Listen, ye’ve awready goat a wanted poster face oan that kisser ae yours.  Ah widnae worry aboot people looking at yer ugly mug.  Noo, fuck aff oot ae ma sight and don’t come back,” Slapper growled, roughly pushing him through the frosted door before slamming it shut behind him.

  As Johnboy stood wae his left erm aloft, two fingers pointing upwards, wae his right haun slapping his left erm, he jist aboot shat himsel when a voice oot ae naewhere shouted at him.

  “Hoi, Ginger Nut, haun me up that hammer.”

  Johnboy stepped back fae the entrance and looked up.  Wan ae the teachers wis staunin at the tap ae a ladder, in front ae Paul’s broken windae, looking doon at him.

  “Whit ur ye daeing?”

  “Ah’m taking the putty oot ae this windae frame tae put in the new glass,” he replied, wiggling a chisel at Johnboy.

  It wis then that Johnboy clocked the big pane ae shiny glass, leaning against the wall tae the right ae the door.

  “Er, aye, okay, sir,” Johnboy said.

  He telt himsel that he’d only get wan shot at this, so he’d hiv tae make it coont. 

  “Here ye go, sir,” he shouted happily, as the claw hammer whooshed oot ae his hauns fae between his legs. 

  The hammer shot skywards like a rocket, whistling jist oot ae reach ae the teacher’s grappling fingers, before it ran oot ae fuel and the heid upturned itsel.  It fell back earthwards, quickly picking up speed, and shot past they slippery, grappling, fingers ae the teacher again, before landing smack in the middle ae the glass.

  “Oops!” Johnboy said, chuffed as punch wae himsel, bit putting oan his best sorry-looking expression.

  “Aw, fur fuck’s sake, ya stupid wee basturt, ye!  Noo, look whit ye’ve done.”

  It hidnae taken mair than two seconds fur the door tae swing open at the sound ae the smashing glass and fur Slapper and that tartan bow tie ae his tae arrive oan the scene.

  “Whit the...?  You, ya wee cretin arsehole, ye.  Ur ye still here?” he snarled, looking between Johnboy and the pile ae broken glass wae the wooden shaft ae the hammer sticking up through it.

  “That daft wee basturt broke ma good windae pane.”

  “Did he mean it?” Slapper asked, instinctively grabbing Johnboy by the collar, haun ready tae gie him a right good slapping.

  “Naw, Ah don’t think so.  It wis ma ain fault.  Ah wis stupid enough tae ask him tae throw me up the hammer.”

  “Right, Ah’m no gonnae tell ye again.  Get tae fuck oot ae here and up tae that Edinburgh Road before Ah lose that temper ae mine…again,” Slapper snarled, trying tae gie Johnboy a clip oan the lug, bit missing by a mile as Johnboy ducked and heided up the avenue tae the entrance.

  Before he disappeared oot ae sight, Johnboy turned and gied the building wan last look.  He wis noo in the same league as Tony, Joe, Paul and Skull. Before, he’d always felt the odd wan oot, especially when they spoke aboot The Grove. He thought aboot Skull.  Everything Skull hid said aboot the dump hid been right.  Tae survive, ye hid tae be oan yer toes and know whit ye wur up against.  He wished Skull wis still wae them.  The worse part wis that nowan seemed tae speak aboot him very much any mair.  Johnboy wisnae sure if this wis because they wur too upset or if they jist wanted tae forget him.  Johnboy swore he’d never furget Skull.  Johnboy knew that The Grove wid’ve been different fur him if Skull hidnae shared everything aboot it wae him.  There hid been times when he thought he felt Skull’s presence amongst the Garngad uglies when they wur aw sitting laughing and slagging each other aff, playing five stanes in the yard. 

  “See ye Skull…and thanks!” he shouted doon the drive towards the building and the teacher still perched up oan the ladder, before he turned and heided alang tae the bus stoap.

He didnae hiv long tae wait. Wan ae the first things he’d learned in the summer holidays, efter he’d started running aboot wae The Mankys, wis how tae successfully get a bus driver tae stoap at a bus stoap fur ye. Firstly, ye hid tae pick the right spot at the bus stoap.  Wance anchored, ye wurnae allowed tae move yer feet tae the left or tae the right ae where ye wur staunin.  The only exception tae that rule wis that ye wur allowed tae take a bonus step forward or wan backwards, so long as ye didnae move sideways.  The bonus step always caused arguments amongst The Mankys.  This wis usually when somewan wid be accused ae cheating.  Wance settled oan yer spot, ye then held oot yer haun and waited patiently tae see if the back platform ae the bus wid stoap exactly where ye wur staunin.  Before he’d goat slung intae The Grove, Johnboy hid been joint board leader wae Joe.  The second important part ae the exercise wis tae make sure the driver wid stoap in the first place.  It wisnae usually a problem if there wur a couple ae big people staunin at the bus stoap, bit being ten and oan yer lonesome always seemed tae bring oot the worst in the bus drivers, fur some strange reason.  Maist ae the time, the fly basturts wid slow doon, as if they wur gonnae stoap and then before ye knew it, they’d rev up and fly past ye, wae a big grin oan they ugly coupons ae theirs, usually wae two fingers stuck up in the air in yer direction.  So, tae get wan o’er oan they smarmy pricks, Johnboy and his pals wid aw staun there, looking innocent, and then, jist when they knew the bus driver wisnae gonnae stoap, they’d take a bonus step forward or backwards, depending oan how close the bus wis tae the pavement, wae their erms oot, causing the driver tae slam oan they brakes ae his.  The timing always hid tae be perfect tae make sure they didnae run o’er ye.  Another part ae the rules wis that the ‘nae stepping sideways’ rule still applied, so ye hid tae step back oan tae the exact same spot, tae see if ye wur exactly opposite the back platform when he finally stoapped.  This wis another part ae the game that caused heaps ae arguments amongst his pals.  Fur a while, him and his pals hid started tae carry bits ae chalk aboot wae them so they could mark their original spot.  The chalk put Skull oot ae the game every time.  It wis the rumbling ae the engine that alerted him first. Johnboy stood watching the bus heiding his way fae a long distance aff.  He chose his spot, bit still hid plenty ae time tae change his mind, which he took advantage ae three times before the bus rumbled up tae meet him.  His eyes connected wae the driver’s.  Johnboy knew the game wis oan.  It wisnae anything the driver did, bit he knew the basturt hid made up his mind tae try and get wan o’er oan him. Johnboy took a deep breath and gied his chosen spot another wee glance as he heard the gears ae the bus crunching and drapping doon, as the driver slowed doon.  Satisfied, he waited. Forty feet…thirty feet…twenty feet…ten feet…Johnboy made his move jist as the basturt quickly shifted up a gear. He stepped aff the pavement wae his erm ootstretched and wae a big grin oan that coupon ae his.  He could see why the driver’s face hid a look ae horror oan it.  The back end ae the bus disappeared before reappearing again as the driver fought tae keep control ae it.  Johnboy quickly and casually stepped back oan tae the spot that he’d vacated three seconds earlier as the bus screeched and skidded past him and came tae a stalled stoap amidst a cloud ae smoke and the smell ae burning brake pads.  Johnboy wis fair chuffed wae himsel as he took wan step forward up and oan tae the back ae the wee platform, wishing Joe and Tony hid been there tae witness him getting the perfect wan o’er oan the driver.

“Wis that you, ya wee midden, ye?” an auld guy ae aboot forty, who wis sitting facing the platform snarled at him, as he sorted his bunnet back intae position.

  Johnboy shot up the stairs before he wis blamed fur anything else.  He wis jist sitting comfortably up the front, wae his feet oan the ledge in front ae him, enjoying the view, when he heard a familiar voice.

  “Fares please?  Any mair fares please?” Cruella Deville rasped, heiding his way.

The last time he’d heard that voice wis when he’d accidentally sent her tumbling oan tae that auld crabbit arse ae hers oan Alexandra Parade when he wis getting chased fur snow-drapping some big basturt’s good five-o-wans aff ae his washing line.  Although it hid been an accident, she hidnae been too impressed by his apology as she lay screaming the place doon wae her legs up in the air, flashing her orange bloomers tae everywan in the street.

  “Ah’ll get ye, ya wee toe-rag,” she’d howled, as Johnboy hotfooted it after his pals wae his good pair ae five-o-wans clutched in his hauns.

  He’d come across her in the past, previous tae their wee collision.  She wis a right well-known evil witch who hated young wans, especially boys, so when they broon scuffed shoes appeared at his seat, he kept his heid and his eyes doon.

  “Fares please,” she demanded, halting at his seat.

  “Er, Parly Road, please,” he mumbled.

  “That’ll be eightpence ha’penny.

   “Right, let’s see,” he said, as he produced his wee plastic tokens oot ae his pocket and looked at them, getting that ‘Ah’ve been here before’ feeling.

  There wis an orange wan worth a penny, a red wan worth tuppence, a cream wan worth tuppence ha’penny, a broon wan worth thrupence and a green wan worth a tanner.  He started tae get nervous as wan ae the broon scruffed shoes started impatiently tapping away oan the fag-end riddled flair, as if she wis late fur a train or something.

  “Right, that wae that and that wae that,” he said oot loud, shuffling his plastic tokens aboot oan his palm.  “Naw, that wae that, and...”

  “Hing oan a minute, ye’re no that wee cheeky runt who tipped me o’er oan tae that good arse ae mine oan Alexandra Parade a wee while back there, ur ye?” The Wicked Witch Ae The West demanded, swiping aw his tokens aff ae the palm ae his haun, while gieing him a good looking o’er.

  “Er, excuse me, missus.  Am Ah no due any change?” he asked the back that wis walking away fae him, alang the aisle tae the stairs.

   He knew as soon as they words wur oot ae his mooth that his cover wis blown oot ae the water good and proper.  It didnae take a genius tae suss oot that when he heard the bell and the bus slowing doon tae stoap at a bus stoap that didnae hiv any people staunin at it, that she wis oan tae him.  He wis still sitting wondering whit tae dae next when she made his mind up fur him.

  “Could the thieving wee scabies-ridden toe-rag who’s jist been released fae Larchgrove Remand Home get his manky wee arse aff ae that seat and get doon here pronto,” she hollered.

  Nowan oan the tap deck said a word, bit everywan’s eyes wur oan him.  As he stood oan the pavement at the tap ae Alexandra Parade, watching the bus take aff intae the distance towards the toon centre, Ugly Chops gied him a toothless grin and a wave as she shouted fae the platform.

  “Enjoy yer walk, Sonny-boy.”

  “Up yours, ya crabbit auld basturt, ye,” he shouted back.

 

 

BOOK: Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2
10.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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