Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 (48 page)

BOOK: Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2
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Chapter Eight

  So, Tony, who’d always drummed it intae Johnboy that he shouldnae volunteer fur anything, volunteered them and they goat oot ae the classroom…eventually.  Patsy, Freckles, Minky, Tottie and Baby hid telt his lordship that they wur happy in the education block.

  “There’s no way Ah’m missing ‘Watch Wae Mother’, especially ‘Andy Pandy,’” Baby hid telt the heidmaster.

  “Oh, yes, you’ll be the fat comedian I’ve heard about then,” the cheeky auld arse-belter hid said, tae scowls fae the rest ae them.

“Ma maw telt me it wisnae fat…that it wis something tae dae wae ma glands…mair like hinging muscle,” Baby hid retorted wae a straight face.

   “Yes, well, anyway, we’ll perhaps discuss that hanging muscle and those glands of yours some other time, when we have all day.  In the meantime, I have…we have…decided to rehabilitate you and you will all do what you are told.  Take it or leave it?”

  “We’ll leave it,” they’d aw said at wance, calling his bluff.

  “Right, back to the education programme with them, Mr Wilson,” the auld basturt hid growled, making Beanpole’s day.

  The meeting wae the heidmaster hid been oan the Wednesday and while nowan seemed particularly bothered at being back in the education block, it wis still a pain in the arse getting a wee tap oan the napper at hauf five in the morning and telt tae get up and oot tae the shed.  It wis also still freezing cauld in the mornings.

  “Ah’m gonnae fucking kill the first gardener basturt Ah clock the day who comes in wae mud oan they boots ae his,” wis Patsy’s first moan ae the day…the same as every day.

  “Shut the fuck up, Patsy.  We could be lying in oor beds if it wisnae fur aw youse,” wis Johnboy’s reply as he picked up his first muddy boot, shivering his baws aff.

  “Don’t fucking blame me, Johnboy, ya Proddy fud, ye.  Blame that big thick basturt, sitting o’er there, scraping that coo shit aff ae that boot.  He’s the wan that upset Frankie Howard.”

  Even the teachers who wur marching up and doon in their coats and scarves tae keep warm burst oot laughing at that wan.

  “He’s fucking right.  That auld prick dis look like Frankie Howard,” Joe said tae mair laughter.

  “And anyway, how wis Ah tae know Ah wis getting tae work in a warm greenhoose, where Ah could sit oan ma arse and munch tomatoes aw day, eh?  Answer me that wan?” Patsy bleated tae nobody.

   “So, if ye knew whit wis oan offer, ye wid’ve taken it then?” Baby accused
him.

   “Wid Ah fuck. That auld arse-belter wisnae getting tae pull a flanker o’er ma eyes.  And ye kin tell him Ah said that,” Patsy snarled at the two teachers, as he reached fur another boot that wis caked wae mud and dung.

  “Baby, the next time we’re hauled in tae be rehabilitated, let me dae the talking eh?” Freckles said drily tae mair laughter.

 

  She’d appeared o’er tae the classroom oan the Friday, first thing in the morning, before coming back wae a new tack in the efternoon.  They’d aw been watching the early edition ae ‘Bill and Ben, the Flowerpot Men.’  Rolled Back Neck hid been growling at them, telling them tae shut the fuck up as it wis his favourite programme.  He wis always trying tae anticipate who goat up tae nae good first and then wid shout oot the answer. Wis it Bill or wis it Ben?  The best bit wis that nine times oot ae ten, he never goat it right.  Everywan always made a point ae disrupting his happiness by hitting him wae wan-liners during the programme while he wis sitting there trying tae concentrate.  Baby and him wur furever arguing o’er which wis the best programme, ‘Andy Pandy’ or ‘The Flower Pot Men.’

  “Ah’d rather live in a wee basket than a fucking auld flowerpot, any day ae the week,” Baby hid jist announced the day the social worker appeared.

  “If ye could find wan tae fit ye,” The Neck hid shot back, jist as a female heid appeared roond the door, taking them aw by surprise.

  “Mr Burns, can I have a word with you, please?” the heid hid asked, before disappearing back tae where it hid originated fae. 

  Two minutes later she’d come back and hid asked Beanpole tae fuck aff wae his pal, before plapping her arse doon oan tae a chair in front ae them.  Johnboy hid awready sauntered o’er tae the windae tae see if the coast wis clear, before putting a chair through the glass, bit he’d spotted a big bawheid, attached tae a fat neck, prowling aboot ootside.

  “Hello, boys. I’m Miss Flaw, Thistle Park’s resident social worker.  I wondered if I could have a word with you all?” she’d said, sounding like Andy Pandy’s maw.

  “Ye’re no Chinese, by any chance, ur ye?” Joe hid asked her.

“No, what made you ask me that then?” she asked, surprised.

  Silence.

   “I was just wondering if you had reconsidered Mr Gordon’s proposition about joining the school’s rehabilitation programme?”

  Silence.

   “I mean, you’ve all been sitting in here for months now, doing very little academically, from what I can see,” she’d said, looking aboot disapprovingly at the mess.

  Silence.

  “Er, right, well.  I thought I would just pop in and introduce myself.  If you change your minds, just ask Mr Burns or one of the other members of staff to give me a shout, eh?” she’d coo-ed, scampering oot the door, her shoulders slumped.

  Nowan hid said a word fur aboot two minutes efter she’d left, which wis a long time in the classroom.

  “Joe, whit the fuck wur ye wanting tae know if she wis Chinese fur?” Freckles hid finally asked, walking intae it.

  “Ah’m Miss Flaw?” he’d replied, pulling the sides ae his eyes intae slits, as the others aw fell aboot laughing.

   “Whit?  Ah don’t get that,” Patsy hid said, tae mair laughter.

  In the efternoon she’d come back.  This time, she’d goat Rolled Back Neck tae take Tony alang tae the empty dentist’s room fur a wee chat.  He’d been away fur aboot hauf an hour and then he’d walked back intae the room.

  “Right, we aw start oor new jobs oan Monday.  Anywan goat a problem wae that?  Naw?  Good.”

 

 

Chapter Nine

  Fanny placed her jotter oan the ancient scratched desk in front ae her and lay a fresh, un-chewed pencil and fountain pen within easy reach, side by side, like two wee sojers.  Although she hid awready made up her mind which wan tae use, she still went through her usual ritual ae choosing which tool wis required.  The fountain pen wis usually fur the straightforward stuff like processing numbers, reports oan how well the CPs wur daeing and reports tae other schools, pre-transfer.  In other words, the nae-brainer stuff.  The pencil wis fur the mair complex tasks that might require a re-write, like court reports, where she might need a rub-oot or additions, depending oan the complexity ae the boy and the charges he faced.  She leaned o’er and flicked an imaginary piece ae dust aff her desk.  She could hardly contain her excitement.  She sat and thought aboot the past week’s events.  Efter a year ae trying tae get somewhere in the place, she felt she hid finally made a breakthrough.  She wanted tae telephone…or even better…jump intae her wee green mini and drive in tae Paisley and tell Mr Dupon…Hugh…the good news.  She knew she still hid an uphill battle oan her hauns.  Oan the wan haun, there wis the school staff, who somewan hid furgotten tae tell it wis nineteen sixty eight and no eighteen sixty eight.  She hid spent five sessions o’er the past five weeks wae them, explaining the new reward and response techniques, which wur being tried oot in some ae the approved schools in England and how this wis impacting oan how young people responded, particularly wae regards tae reducing disruptive and violent behaviour.  She’d even hid Mr Dupon…Hugh…up tae gie them a session, busy though he clearly wis.  She’d thought she wis getting somewhere until Beanpole…Mr Wilson…hid raised his haun at the end ae that session.

  “That aw sounds very interesting, Mr Duponcie, bit whit his aw this goat tae dae wae us?” he’d asked.

  That hid opened the floodgates.

  “Bring back the birch, that’s whit Ah say.”

  “Aye, we should never hiv goat rid ae it.”

  “Rehabilitation?  The last time Ah heard that word wis when Ah read in The Glesga Echo aboot some politician threatening tae sue some other poncey git fur slander and he said he wis taking oot rehabilitation against him in The Sheriff Court.”

  “When Ah wis a boy, we never…”

  “It’s awright you playing at it, Miss Flaw, bit us boys in here hiv tae pick up the pieces efter aw youse do-gooders go.”

   Oan and oan it hid gone, while Mr Dupon…Hugh…and her hid sat there, trying tae keep a smile oan their faces and looking as if they wur interested in whit they wur saying.  And then the breakthrough hid come two days later.

  “Let me get this straight, Miss Flaw.  You wish to target a group of malingerers, here in Thistle Park…preferably a group of no-hopers…with the intention of trying to introduce a rehabilitation programme.  Is that right?” The Heidmaster hid said fae behind his desk at her first meeting oan the subject wae him.

  “Yes.”

  “Now, why would a feisty little chestnut like you wish to do something like that, eh?”

  “Because rehabilitation is the only thing that has any chance of working, to turn around and reverse the destructive pattern that has been bred into the inmates who darken our doors.”

  “This may come as a surprise to someone like yourself, but when I was a boy, I was a wee bit of a rascal myself, you know?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “I mean, while I was no angel, my friends and I didn’t get up to half the things these little bas…buggers get up to nowadays.”

  “There’s been research carried out with young prisoners that has highlighted that if you reward good behaviour, then there’s a good chance that good behaviour becomes the norm. There’s also changes in how we treat juveniles within the youth justice system that have been implemented as a result of the Kilbrandon Report.  We have an opportunity to be at the forefront…to be trailblazers,” she’d pleaded.

  “I don’t disagree with what you’re trying to do.  However, the delinquents we tend to be blessed with in here do not exactly exhibit any worthwhile traits and normal behaviour to start with.”

   “Precisely.  That’s why it’s a challenge, headmaster.  If we can turn around just a few of them, then the chances are that others will see the benefits and start behaving themselves as well.”

  “It all sounds very scientific to me, Miss Flaw, but I’m willing to give it a go, just so people don’t get the impression that I’m not progressive.  What do you need from me?”

   “I want to work with a group and try out some of the latest techniques.  I’ve already carried out some research and I think that I’ve identified who we need to work with.”

  “Ah, yes?  And who would that be then?”

  “There’s a group from the Townhead area of Glasgow.  I’ve been monitoring them over the past couple of months.  They rarely mix with any of the other boys and are causing lots of disruption, which is taking up significant staff time on a daily basis.”

  “I thought all the boys sent here did that?”

  “Not like this group.  If I can get at least a few of them on board, that would be a fantastic start.  I would need your full support, though, or it won’t work.  The staff will be against it.”

  Silence.

  “I’ll give you an initial three months to see what you can come up with.  We’ll review progress regularly.  If there’s no marked change in the behaviour of your targeted group, then we can always say we tried,” The Heidmaster hid finally said, gaun back tae nibble the end ae his pencil.

   “Thank you, headmaster. I won’t let you down.” 

  Oan reflection, it hid surprised Fanny that persuading the heidmaster hid been the easy part.  She’d awready known whit tae expect fae the staff, so hidnae been too disappointed, or surprised by their reaction. The boys in the school wur a different proposition aw thegither.  In jist o’er a year…fourteen months, tae be exact…only a haunful ae boys within the school hid voluntarily spoken tae her and even then, it hid only been efter she’d asked them a question directly or hid called them intae her office. The wans who’d spoken tae her freely wur maistly those placed under supervision as a result ae Care and Protection and who usually sat opposite her crying, mystified as tae why they’d been put in a place like Thistle Park, given that they hidnae committed a crime.  It wis these boys who wur maist at risk ae being bullied than any ae the others.  It wis always heart-breaking, as she knew she could dae very little fur them, other than tae put forward a request fur a transfer tae a less secure school.  The problem within the system wis the numbers.  There wis jist too many boys and no enough places in the schools that could support the CPs tae come tae terms wae their situation.   When Fanny first started, she thought the majority ae the boys wid make a bee-line fur her door tae pour oot their woes and tae ask fur help.  The only knock she’d heard this past twelve months hid been when wan ae the staff hid come knocking tae borrow her Typhoo tea.  It hid been a steep learning curve and she’d found it hard tae come tae terms wae it. She’d felt that aw her training hid gone doon the drain.  She’d quickly found herself in some sort ae no-man’s land.  Oan the wan haun, there wis the staff who thought she wis just some air-heid do-gooder who wis playing at being concerned.

  “Aye, well, we’ll see where ye ur in a few months’ time, hen,” hid been the mair polite ae the responses in the staff room that first week.

  It hid been the responses fae the boys that hid hurt her the deepest though.  The mair she’d tried tae engage wae them, the mair they’d shied away fae her.  She’d believed, and still did, that she hid a lot tae offer them, tae help them turn their lives aroond.  She’d lost coont ae the number ae days, or weeks, that she’d arrived first thing in the morning and left at five o’clock, hivving sat at her desk staring intae space, asking hersel whit it wis that she’d done wrang. Her parents and her brother, Benson, The Glesga Echo’s motoring columnist, hidnae helped either.

  “I’ve spoken to Tom Bryce, the crime desk sub-editor, and he’s willing to take you on as a cub-reporter, working alongside Mary,” Benson hid said, before admitting that her father hid put him up tae it.

  The thought ae working alangside her pushy, patronising, sister-in-law, Mary Marigold, a rising master crime-desk reporter, hid been the deterrent tae Fanny fae picking up the phone and admitting defeat oan many occasions.  She thought aboot Mr Dupon…Hugh…and the advice and support he’d been gieing her.  He seemed tae be the only wan who could understaun whit she wis up against. 

   “Don’t give up.  Who told you that it wis going to be easy, Fanny?  Hang on tight and just take a deep breath.  Suck it and see,” he’d said. “You might actually like it.”

   With Mr Dupon…Hugh’s…encouragement, she’d gied hersel a month tae carefully troll through the files ae the potential candidates in the school.  Within a few hours, she’d identified her group.  In simplistic terms, they wur the best ae the worst.  They contributed absolutely nothing, ignored even the maist basic ae rules, actively undermined everything and anything that could be deemed as positive in the school, refused tae play ball and disrupted anything they wur forced tae participate in, whether staunin in the queue or sitting doon tae eat.  In fact, the only time they didnae appear tae be in trouble wis when they wur sleeping, although wan ae them, Taylor, did tend tae sleep walk aboot the school at night.  In aw the time they’d been in Thistle Park, only wan ae them hid ever managed tae move up a peg oan the hame-leave board and he’d taken his anger oot oan another boy by assaulting him.  Mr Dupon…Hugh…hid pointed out that treating this group like the rest ae the boys in the school wis hivving the opposite effect ae whit wis being intended in the first place.  That hidnae gone doon well wae the majority ae the staff.

  “We all need to think out of the box.  That’s the answer,” he’d telt the staff, shrugging the hostility emanating fae the silent group ae men like water aff a duck’s back.

  In her eagerness tae get started, she’d jumped right in at the deep-end and hid realised her mistake the moment she’d sat doon in the classroom.  They hidnae even pretended tae look curious at her sudden presence.  Apart fae wan question, asking whether she wis Chinese, they’d totally ignored her.  She’d then hid tae retreat, feeling rejected.  She’d phoned Mr…Hugh…who’d telt her tae get back in there, bit this time, tae introduce the steps that they’d spoken aboot.

  “Isolate the leader, Fanny.  Don’t mess about with the rest.  That will come later. They won’t do anything without his say-so and he won’t do anything, if he feels that you’re embarrassing him in front of his peer group. You’re young…and don’t forget…female.  Don’t be shy in using the assets that God gave you,” he’d soothed, putting the phone doon.

  She hidnae been too sure aboot ‘using the assets that God hid gied her,’ bit she hid decided tae bite the bullet and go back in the efternoon.  She’d goat Mr Burns tae take Gucci alang tae the vacant dentist’s office at the end ae the corridor in the education block.

  “Thank you, Mr Burns, that will be all.  I’ll give you a shout when I’m finished here,” she’d said, no being in the least bit surprised at his hesitation as he aboot turned and slammed the door shut behind him.

  She’d quickly glanced at the boy as he entered the room.  This hid been the closest she’d managed tae get tae him…in fact, tae any ae them.  She hid spent a good bit ae time looking doon oan Gucci and his associates fae wan ae the dorm windaes when they’d been oot in the yard.   Although they looked tae be the wan group, efter studying them, it hid become clear that the boys fae the Toonheid and Royston wur two separate entities.  While Gucci either sat or stood by the steps that lead intae the main building, McManus always seemed tae be busy talking tae boys in the various groupings scattered aboot the yard.  Taylor never stood still fur mair than a few minutes and wis always oan the move, walking roond the perimeter ae the yard, wae Smith, the quiet wan, trailing efter him.  He displayed the same mannerisms as a caged animal that she remembered staunin and staring at when her parents took her and her two brothers tae the zoo.  She’d looked doon at the open file in front ae her.  Gucci wis described as being five feet five tall, wae nae distinguishing marks oan his body, other than a strange looking scar oan his right wrist.  Although he hidnae disclosed how he’d come by it, his file suggested that it wis as a result ae being held in the jaws ae a large dog. She’d looked up intae his dark, diamond eyes.  She’d quite easily been able tae detect his Italian background in his olive skin. He wis stunningly beautiful and she could swear she’d felt her heart palpitating.  He hid jist stood staring right back at her.  Efter managing tae regain her composure, by glancing at a page in the folder in front ae her, she’d taken a deep breath and started tae deal her haun.

  “Please take a seat, Tony.  I’m Miss Flaw and I would like to ask you a few questions so that I can figure out how I’m going to be able to help you and your friends, without you, or them, losing face,” she’d said, looking up at him, disappointed that he hidnae sat doon.

  “You have to come across sincerely, Fanny.  Don’t attempt to lie to him.  He’ll be on to you as quick as a flash.  You have to get him to sit down opposite you, or you’ve lost him.” Mr…Hugh…hid repeatedly drummed intae her oan the phone.

  She’d fought hard tae quell the panic welling up inside her.  She’d wanted tae run oot ae the door and hid jist been measuring the distance when she’d looked intae his eyes again.  They wur saft and warm and she’d thought she detected a hint ae a smile behind them.  She’d put her mad dash oan hold and hid taken a deep breath.    

BOOK: Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2
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