Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 (42 page)

BOOK: Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2
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PART TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

Glesga District Court, Central Polis Headquarters, March 1968.

 
“So, the basturt’s deid then?” Skull asked, bringing Johnboy back tae the here and noo.

  “Horsey John?  Aye, it wisnae that long efter ye’d gone.”

  “And poor Jessie as well?”

  “Aye.  Ah still think aboot her a lot.”

  “And whit aboot me then?”

  “Oh, aye, Skull, we aw think aboot ye a lot tae,” Johnboy assured him, smiling.

  “Serves the horrible basturt right, so it dis.  And whit aboot that limping midget wae the club fit?”

  “Tiny?  He’s still limping away and being grumpy as fuck tae everywan.  He runs the stables noo.”

  “So, whit’s a wreath then?”

  “It’s flowers that ye send tae people’s funerals when they croak it.”

  “And aw oor maws sent Horsey John a bunch ae flowers?  Fae us?” Skull asked accusingly.

  Skull goat up and walked tae the other end ae the cell and started tae lightly kick the wall wae the toe ae his left fitba boot in a rat–a–tat–tat kind ae rhythm.  It wis the kind ae toe-kicking that Johnboy used tae dae when he wis younger, when his ma goat him a new pair ae shoes.  He wid kick the toes aff a wall, or scrape the leather oan the side ae the shoes alang the pavement oan the way tae school because he’d be too embarrassed tae be clocked wearing new shoes in the playground.  Johnboy sat and watched Skull, wondering whit wis gaun oan in that
heid ae his. Skull hid his foreheid pressed against the tiled brickwork, looking doon at his drumming toes.  It wis obvious tae Johnboy that he wis trying tae take in whit he’d jist heard.

  “If we’d thought fur wan second that it wis they basturts that set the cabin alight wae you and Elvis in it, Ah don’t think we wid’ve been too pleased wae that at the time either,” Johnboy said in his best apologetic voice.

  “Ah’d love tae hiv been there tae gie that Fat Flickering Fingerer and his pals a couple ae Sticky Screamers in the gub though, so Ah wid,” Skull said, laughing, as he twirled roond suddenly, jist missing Johnboy’s heid wae wan.

  “Aye, it wis a picture, so it wis,” Johnboy said, shifting across tae the other wall.

  They baith sat there and watched Skull’s slimy missile slowly dribbling doon the wall, hivving tae put a wee bit mair effort in every time it came tae the gap between the bricks.

  “So, where hiv ye come fae, Skull?”

  “Ah don’t know,” Skull mumbled.

  “Ye must know something.”

  “Aw Ah know is that it wisnae jist that pair ae tadgers.”

  “Whit?  Ye mean somewan else wis involved?”

  “Aye, bit Ah don’t think it wis The Big Man.”

  “It’s bound tae hiv been The Big Man.  He’s the basturt that gies aw the orders.”

  “Naw, Ah think it wis...”

  It wis jist then that Johnboy let oot a howling yelp as he felt the worst stab ae
pain in his ribs that he’d ever felt in his entire life.  Some dirty basturt hid booted him in the ribs while he wis lying stretched oot wae his eyes shut.  It couldnae hiv been Skull as the kick hid come fae the other side ae him.

  “Right, up oan yer feet, Taylor.  Ye’re offskie!”  Creeping Jesus, the turnkey barked.

 
Beside Creepy, two men, wearing identical checked jaickets, stood looking doon at Johnboy.  Despite the
excruciating pain he wis in, Johnboy looked aboot fur Skull, bit he’d awready legged it.

  “Right, dae as ye’re telt and get up oan tae yer feet, Sleeping Beauty.  Ye’re aff tae Thistle Park Holiday Camp, the school fur angels wae dirty hauns.  And nae funny stuff or that arse ae yers will end up in tatters.”

  “Bit, bit, Ah need tae put ma socks oan,” Johnboy
gasped, confused, sore and pointing tae where he’d laid his socks oot oan the concrete bed.

  “Jist put them in yer pocket.  Ye’ll get two pairs where ye’re gaun.”

  “Bit...”

  “Right, Sunshine, get up and haud oot yer hauns,” wan ae them snarled at him, dragging him up oan tae they feet ae his, as the cuffs wur swiftly clamped oan tae his wrists.

  “Ma socks!”

  “Here ye go,” Creeping Jesus said, stuffing them intae the front pocket ae Johnboy’s troosers, as checked jaicket number wan dragged him towards the cell door.

 

Chapter Two

Johnboy’s heid wis minced.  He wis sitting in the back seat ae a car, heiding fur Thistle Park, oot in Paisley.  He wis grimacing in pain and in dire need ae an aspirin or something. He’d heard ae Thistle Park before.  His big brother, Charlie, hid been sent there, plus when he wis in The Grove, it wis furever getting mentioned. He couldnae remember anywan saying that they wanted tae go there insteid ae tae another approved school, although he wisnae too bothered aboot whit the place wid be like.  He’d soon suss oot whit the score wis wance he goat there, and anyway, he knew Tony and Joe hid been sent there.  As well as wondering where the hell Skull hid disappeared tae, he wis sitting, trying tae figure oot which wan ae the dirty rotten basturts that wur sitting in the front seats hid booted him in the ribs, sabotaging him fae finding oot who the other basturt wis that hid been involved wae Horsey John and Tiny in burning doon the cabin.  He tried tae inhale in wee short breaths.  Anything deeper sent stabbing bolts ae pain shooting across his throbbing side.  He wondered whit the reaction wid be if he leaned o’er and gied the driver a five fingered
slap oan the big boil that wis aboot tae burst oan the back ae his neck?  He promised himsel
that the first chance he goat, he wis gonnae make a painful comeback against whichever wan ae
the basturts hid done the booting.

   “Turn that shite aff,” the driver said tae the passenger wae the bull neck.

  ‘Lady Madonna’ wis immediately silenced by the press ae a button.  Johnboy wanted tae tell the basturts that he wis listening tae that, bit insteid, jist looked aboot, scowling tae himsel.  They’d pulled oot ae Central and turned left oan tae the Saltmarket.  He managed tae catch a quick glimpse ae the wee electrical shoap that him and Tony hid tanned three years earlier during the school holidays in nineteen sixty five.  The Big Man hid asked The Mankys tae see if they could get him some tranny radios, which hid jist become popular at the time.  Everywan hid been efter them. He wis still trying tae remember how much The Big Man hid gied them as the car passed The High Court and the mortuary oan his right and followed the traffic o’er the Albert Bridge towards the Gorbals.  He smiled as he remembered Tony pointing oot aw the sights and sounds as they wur walking back up the Saltmarket in search ae the shoap.  When Tony hid telt him whit the wee red brick building wis, sitting attached tae the court, they’d legged it.  It hid gied Johnboy the willies at the time.  He wondered why it didnae hiv that same effect oan him noo.  Wance across the bridge, the indicator alerted him that they wur turning right and heiding towards Tradeston and Govan Cross beyond. He couldnae help smiling through the pain in his sore ribs when they passed the big Co-op funeral building in Tradeston.  It reminded him ae the time that Joe and Paul hid turned up, oot ae the blue, carrying a brand new coffin.  They’d carried it aw the way back tae the Toonheid…through the toon centre and across George Square in broad daylight.  It hid then taken them nearly three weeks tae get shot ae it.  They’d managed tae convince Flypast tae let them stash it in his dookit fur a share ae the profits.  Some ae the people that they’d taken it roond tae, tae try and flog it, widnae even let them in through their front door.  They’d eventually managed tae get rid ae it though.  They’d bumped intae Tinky Taylor’s da, Humphy Aleck, in McAslin Street, as he wis coming oot ae The McAslin Bar, pished as a fart.  Aleck wisnae jist a legend wae aw the young wans in the Toonheid, who he’d illegally taught tae drive wance they wur aw oot ae short troosers, bit he wis admired by aw the local adults as well, due tae the fact that he claimed tae be the only hunchbacked coalman in the city.  Being first at anything, no matter how unimportant it seemed tae anywan else ootside the area wis important.  Aleck hid status, and Foosty, his wife, didnae let anywan forget it.  Aleck hid insisted oan buying the coffin fur Foosty.  Joe said that it hid been a pure fluke, as Aleck wis the last person they’d hiv thought aboot wanting tae buy it, given who he wis married tae.  Foosty Taylor wis well-known fur striking first and asking questions later, as the local bizzies hid found oot tae their cost when they’d turned up mob-haunded tae arrest Aleck and that humph ae his fur dealing in knocked-aff car parts that he kept stored in a blocked-aff wash-hoose ootside his kitchen windae.  Joe and Paul hid still been basking in their salesmanship a week later when Humphy Aleck hid arrived back oan the scene and started tae hassle them aboot gieing him his money back, despite the casket hivving been a deluxe model.  By that time, Aleck hid become the talk ae the steamie.  Aw Foosty’s pals hid taken umbrage when they’d discovered that he’d bought his wife a coffin…and that he’d spent nearly a week trying tae persuade her tae lie in it tae make sure that it fitted her.  Foosty and aw the local wummin hid been convinced that Aleck wis planning tae dae away wae her.  Things hid then gone fae bad tae worse when Aleck discovered that it wis four inches too short fur her.  Wae outraged support fae Johnboy’s ma, Soiled Sally, Sharon Campbell, Shitey Sadie and Johnboy’s next door neighbour, Betty, Foosty hid taken control ae the situation by threatening Aleck wae violence if he didnae get tae fuck, taking his coffin wae him, tae demand his money back.  Joe and Paul hid rightly telt him tae piss aff, as they hidnae agreed tae ‘sale or return’ and because they’d punted it tae him in good faith.  The Mankys hid pissed themsels laughing when Paul hid the cheek tae say tae Aleck that nowan wid notice if Foosty’s legs wur bent o’er a wee bit at the bottom, seeing as they’d be looking at her coupon and no her bent and twisted knees when they came tae pay their last respects.  Aleck hid taken the hump at that suggestion and hid sworn that it wid be the last time he’d be buying anything aff ae them.   He’d also warned them tae stay oot ae Foosty’s way as she wis threatening tae hunt them doon.  The gossip surrounding poor Foosty hid moved up a notch amongst the steamie crowd when Aleck tried tae pawn the coffin, efter failing tae find a buyer.  Fat Fingered Finklebaum, the owner ae the pawn shoap oan McAslin Street, widnae gie him any mair than four quid fur it…fifty percent less than whit it hid cost him.  Efter agreeing oan the deal, poor Aleck and Fat Fingered hid then spent an hour and a hauf dismantling the door ae wan ae the cubicles in the pawn shoap because the coffin hid goat wedged in it and they couldnae get it back oot.  The Big Man hid hid tae act as a go-between efter Fat Fingered reneged oan the deal and Aleck refused tae pay fur the damage tae the cubicle door.  As far as Johnboy knew, Humphy Aleck hid never spoken tae Joe and Paul since.  Johnboy wis jolted back tae the present when the car braked suddenly because some auld dear stepped oot in front ae them when the lights wur oan green.  Johnboy couldnae help smiling when she stoapped in the middle ae the road and scowled at the car before gieing the driver two fingers.

  “Cheeky auld cow!” Bawheid growled fae the passenger’s seat.

  “Aye, Ah should’ve run the auld bag o’er.  That wid’ve gied her something tae girn aboot,” the driver said, as the pair chuckled tae themsels.

  At the last set ae traffic lights, Johnboy hid noticed a street sign saying that they wur oan Paisley Road West.  He knew bits ae the area because he’d delivered briquettes in Tradeston, gaun up and doon nearly every close in Scotland Street, o’er in Kinning Park and in parts ae Govan, roond aboot the cross.  He’d been keeping tabs oan the route they wur taking, as he hoped it wid come in handy at a later date.   Efter that, the route wis aw new tae him, apart fae Ibrox Park, which he could see o’er tae his right.  When they went tae the games, they always took the underground fae either Queen Street or St Enoch Square, which took them straight tae Copland Road.  He wondered if he’d get a chance tae get oot ae the car before the two bears in the front seat could turn roond and nab him.  Bawheid must’ve been reading his mind.

  “Right, listen up, ya wee shitehoose, ye.  Don’t even bother wae they door haundles.  They don’t open fae the inside.  Jist sit back and enjoy the scenery.  It’ll take us aboot
an hour tae get there, depending oan the traffic.  We’ve aw been here before, so don’t even think ae trying tae get oot ae this car.  The baith ae us kin run like fuck, so ye’ve nae chance ae getting away.  Hiv ye goat that?” the prick wae the folds oan the back ae his neck snarled, turning tae face Johnboy.

  Johnboy jist turned his face away, ignoring the ugly scowling coupon in front ae him that he wanted tae smash in wae the heel ae his shoe. He allowed himsel tae be distracted by the two bearded hippies in sandals, wearing Kaftan coats, oan the other side ae the road, competing fur the attentions ae a long-haired lassie who wis decked oot tae look like Hiawatha.

  “Another talkative wan.”

  “Aye, well, he’s been well warned,” Rolled Back Neck growled, sitting back roond tae face the front.

  Johnboy tried tae convince himsel that it must’ve been a dream, fur the umpteenth time since getting slung intae the back seat ae the car.  Everything in the cell hid seemed so real until wan ae the basturts sitting up front hid gied him a dig in the ribs.  Before his court appearance earlier, he hidnae been able tae remember whit Skull looked or sounded like.  No matter how hard he’d tried in the past, everything aboot Skull hid jist become a blur.  Skull hid been deid fur aboot three years, bit noo Johnboy could suddenly remember everything aboot him, including whit he looked and sounded like.  Johnboy remembered mentioning tae Tony and Joe a couple ae months back that, despite trying his hardest, he couldnae picture whit Skull looked like any mair. They’d said that it wis the same fur them.

  “Jist think ae a wee baldy bachle, and ye’ll hiv him doon tae a T,” Joe hid come oot wae.

  “An ugly wee baldy bachle,” Tony hid reminded them.

  Why could he noo remember everything, including whit Skull sounded like?  When he wis oan remand in The Grove, the heid-shrinker hid asked him if he’d ever heard voices in that heid ae his.  Even if he hid, she wid’ve been the last person he wid’ve telt, sitting there wae her fancy gold fountain pen and matching glasses balancing hauf way doon her beak, poised tae challenge him, whitever he said.  Hid it been a dream?  Wis Skull’s voice, which he’d heard as clear as day in the cell, real or imagined? He wondered whit Mrs Fountain Pen wid say if he telt her aboot this wan?  Wis he really as doo-lally in the heid as she’d hinted he wis? He never could fathom oot why it wis so important fur the heid-shrinkers tae convince him that they knew why he acted the way he did.  He’d stoapped playing alang wae them the first time he’d been in The Grove, efter they dismissed everything he’d telt them aboot where he wis coming fae.  They always goat angry wae him, especially when he telt them he wis happy enough maist ae the time.

  “Naw, ye’re no happy, Taylor, ye’re delusional.  If ye wur happy, ye widnae be gaun aboot upsetting everywan by breaking the rules, noo wid ye?  Why kin ye no be like everywan else?”

  “Hame Sweet Hame,” the driver said, bringing Johnboy oot ae his thoughts.

  Johnboy peered oot ae the windscreen between their shoulders.  They’d jist turned intae a big curved drive.  Oan the left wur trees and bushes and oan the right, there wur fields wae boys bent o’er or leaning oan shovels.  In the middle ae the field, he could see a red rusty tractor wae a trailer attached tae it.  He could tell at a glance who the teachers wur.  They wur the wans that wur loitering aboot, picking their noes or scratching their arses, daeing sweet fuck aw.  Some ae the boys stoapped whit they wur daeing and looked o’er tae try and get a glance at whit the new arrival looked like.  The car crunched tae a stoap oan the gravel in the U-shape yard ae an ancient two-storey building, facing the big fancy door.  Oan either side ae the car, the building wis covered wae red creepers, which looked like they’d been trimmed tae let the light in through the white windae frames.  Johnboy felt his arse twitch as his door opened.  He hoped he’d gotten it right aboot The Mankys being sent there.

   “Right, oot ye get, ginger,” Rolled Back Neck growled.

BOOK: Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2
10Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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