“Right, that’s it. She’s no in the band before it’s even started. She’s probably burnt her brassiere, alang wae aw they other heidcases that wur oan the telly the other night there.”
“Aw, Gareth. Shut yer geggy and stoap getting yer lassoo intae a twist,” Kirsty said, tae mair laughter fae the bar.
“Er, well, it’s aw very cosy, us sitting here oan oor jolly arses oan a lovely summer’s morning, bit Ah’ve goat a business tae run. Noo, Ah widnae want tae step oan anywan’s toes here, bit Ah’m picking up a few wee potential musical differences that Ah hope wullnae interfere wae yer performance oan the night. However, withoot taking sides…and Kirsty will back me up here…Ah’m no wan tae interfere or cause any undue problems, bit Ah hiv tae admit, Sarah May…oan this occasion, Ah hiv tae agree wae the boys.”
“Oan whit?”
“A few wee cheery numbers fur the boys oan the night in the bar wid be appreciated.”
“So, we’ve goat the gig then?” chipped in Marshall Matt Dillon fae under his Stetson.
“Aye.”
“Nice wan!” Chester Proudfoot said, gieing a wee imaginary drum roll, wae a cymbal crash.
“Ah’ve discussed the money and the refreshment situation oan the night wae Kirsty, so Ah hope tae see ye then.”
“Aye, she did say, although she didnae mention too much aboot the refreshment details,” Gareth said, looking fae The Big Man tae Kirsty.
“Aye, well, Ah’m willing tae be pushed oan that a wee bit, bit only if the night is a success.”
Chapter Thirty One
Nowan hid uttered a single word in aboot five minutes. Joe wis lying oan his back wae his arse hard up against the brick wall wae his legs pointing skywards. Skull wis back tae daeing an impression ae Spiderman, crawling aw o’er the rafters ae the roof. Wan minute he wis o’er by the wall
above the door, the next he wis crawling towards the back wall. Tony sat wae his legs dangling o’er the edge ae the dummy flair, staring intae space. Johnboy wisnae sure whit tae dae, so he stood up and proceeded tae hiv a pish o’er the edge ae the dummy flair. The front wall ae the shed must’ve been at least twelve feet away and he managed tae hit it at least wance, bit nowan appeared interested. It wid’ve been a championship score, bit Johnboy jist buttoned up his snow-dropped kecks and wandered o’er tae the corner and sat doon, looking at the rest ae them. Whit should’ve been wan ae the best days ae his life hid turned intae wan ae the worst.
Everything hid been gaun great. Parvais hid gone and telt aw the wummin that the boys wur there tae save the day by selling them cheap briquettes. Before they knew it, they’d been flying up and doon the closes wae a dozen here and two dozen there. Some ae the wummin wurnae too sure whit they wur selling as they hidnae come across briquettes before.
“Don’t ye worry, missus, if ye don’t like them, we’ll gie ye yer money back next week,” they’d telt them.
Parvais thought that this wis funny as none ae the wummin could understaun a word the boys wur saying, bit he helped oot and telt them aw whit wis being said. Everywan they’d sold briquettes tae hid been aw smiles and really friendly towards them. In every hoose, the wummin hid jist held oot their hauns wae money in them tae the boys. The boys hid taken whit wis offered and the amazing thing hid been that they’d gied the wummin back the right change. The wummin obviously widnae hiv been aware ae it, bit this wis probably the maist honest thing Tony, Joe and Skull hid ever done in their lives where dosh wis concerned. Every time they’d left a hoose, they’d left wae flat pancakes that wur called chapattis, or something like that, tae scoff oan the way doon the stairs, wae a few left o’er fur Jessie. The only bother they’d goat intae hid been wae Horsey John, who’d shericked them fur no cleaning the coal dross aff ae the back ae the cart. Bit noo, here they wur, sitting staring intae space, wondering whit the fuck hid hit them.
“It must’ve been wan ae the basturts that works here. Ah say we burn the fucking place doon,” Joe said in disgust, looking aboot.
“Aye, Ah reckon ye’re right, Joe,” Skull said, fae somewhere up in the rafters.
“Thank God Ah took money oot and didnae put any back in when Ah came o’er fur the change,” Tony said.
“So, how much did ye take oot?”
“Four quid.”
“So, if we hid twelve pound six bob in the kitty, that means we lost eight pound six bob tae some rotten thieving basturt who disnae gie a fuck who he hurts,” Joe lamented.
“Ah think it wis Johnboy. Efter aw, it wis his hidey hole.”
“Piss aff, Skull. Ah wis wae you when Tony came o’er tae get the change.”
“So? Ye could’ve slipped o’er when ye wur up delivering briquettes tae wan ae the tenements o’er there, fur aw we know.”
“Skull, shut yer arse, ya knob-heid, ye. It wisnae Johnboy,” Joe said, still lying oan his back.
“Aye, bit Ah’m only saying…plus he’s a Proddy tae boot. And we aw know whit they’re like...”
“Ur ye sure nowan else knew aboot this plank, Johnboy?”
“Nowan knew. Ah’ve never hid any ae ma stuff gaun missing before this.”
“Well, some thieving basturt knows aboot it noo,” the voice fae the rafters said.
Tony sat staring intae space and then said whit wis oan aw their minds.
“Well, we’re well fucked noo. We’ll hiv tae get Skull tae go and tell his pal, Shaun the Basturt, that the deal’s aff.”
Skull’s manky face appeared above the rest ae them, looking doon.
“Aye, you and yer maw’s left pap ur gonnae tell him, cause there’s nae fucking chance ae me daeing it.”
“So, whit happens if we don’t come up wae the dosh, Tony?” Johnboy asked.
“At wan minute past midnight oan Thursday night, that scarfaced prick will tell us tae cough up, wae interest…aye, loads ae interest. Christ, how could Ah hiv been so stupid?”
“So, how much hiv we goat left?”
“Nine smackers.”
“So, we’re short ae eleven?”
“Aye.”
“So, why kin we no go and get the other eleven?”
“In two days?”
Silence.
“Er, Ah think Ah know where we could maybe get a good whack tae start wae,” Johnboy said, as Tony and Joe’s chins lifted up aff ae their chests and Skull’s feet landed oan the dummy flair beside him.
Chapter Thirty Two
“So, whit dae ye think then?” Helen asked her maw, daeing a wee twirl.
“Aw, Helen, ye look like a million dollars, so ye dae, hen.”
“Ye don’t think it’s too o’er the tap, dae ye?”
“Away, ye go. Ye’re absolutely stunning, so ye ur.”
“Ye don’t think ma pap’s ur too exposed?”
“Helen, ye should be proud ae whit ye’ve goat, hen. Ah cannae remember the last time ma melons saw the light ae day. Naw...wait a minute...Ah think it wis in nineteen thirty nine, oan the day Big Bertie McCaskill crashed his coal wagon efter Ah bent o’er tae pick up the bag ae sugar that Ah’d drapped ootside Curley’s, up oan Parly Road. There wisnae any ae they fancy brassieres then, ye know. Ah furgoat aw aboot them when Ah bent o’er and oot they popped like two wee fat puppy mongrels wanting tae go fur a run. Even worse...yer da hid jist come oot ae the shoap efter haunin o’er the coupon fur the sugar. Whit a look he gied me efter telling Big Bertie tae concentrate they eyes ae his oan picking up his coal, which wis scattered aw o’er Parly Road,
insteid
ae gawping at they mammaries ae mine.”
“Aw, Maw, ya shameless hussy, ye. Ah bet ye meant tae drap the sugar,” Helen teased.
“Naw, naw. Bit efter that, yer da wis always telling me tae button ma coat right up tae ma chin, even in the middle ae the summer.”
“So, whit happened tae Big Bertie, the dirty coalman? Did he no go and get himsel killed in the war or something?”
“Aw, it wis a real shame, so it wis. He goat taken prisoner in the war, at the end ae October nineteen forty two, by the Eyeties, near a place called El Alemein and slung intae the jail. He wis still there two weeks later when the RAF drapped a bomb oan tap ae it and he wis killed alang wae a lot ae the other sojers.”
“Aw, naw, that’s a sin, so it is. So, where aboot is El Alamein
then?”
“It’s somewhere in Egypt. Don’t ask me where aboot though. Yer da said that whit made it even worse wis that two weeks efter Big Bertie goat captured, the Desert Rats...that’s whit yer da’s regiment wis called...arrived in the nearest toon and took o’er the place. Seemingly the only wans that wur killed wur the prisoners who wur aw locked up. Aw the wee Atalians hid hidden in the basements in the toon itsel and wur aw awright. Yer da wis at the funeral wae aw his mates. He said that there wis a couple ae dozen ae oor boys that hid been killed and they wur still in amongst the rubble when they found them.”
“So, did they bring them hame tae get buried?”
“Naw. They dug a big trench wae picks and shovels in the middle ae the desert and buried them there. Yer da said that people think the desert’s full ae sand, which it is, bit if ye try tae dig a hole, it’s like trying tae dig through concrete. They’re still there as far as Ah know. Yer da disnae talk aboot it...that and the flies.”
“Whit? Big Bertie hiving a fly swatch at yer jiggly jugs?”
“Aw, Helen, that’s horrible. Ah shouldnae be laughing, seeing as the poor soul is deid,” she said, laughing.
“Ach, Ah know, bit it wis so long ago. We aw hiv tae move oan and get oan wae life, Ah suppose,” Helen said, remembering her Aunt Jeannie, who wis her maw’s twin sister. Jeannie hid brought Helen up until she wis ten, though Helen wisnae allowed tae talk aboot her.
“Ah used tae see his wee maw up the Parly Road until she died last year. She always looked so sad, heiding up tae St Mungo’s Chapel oan her ain every morning, clutching they rosaries ae hers.”
“Dae ye think that’s why aw the McCaskill boys turned oot bad?”
“Whit, because Bertie went aff and goat himsel killed? Naw, even as wee snappers…Johnboy’s age…Ah could tell, even then, that they wur gonnae turn oot tae be gangsterish, that lot. Bertie wisnae an angel, by a long shot, bit gie him his due, when the call came, he wis wan ae the first tae sign up, so he wis.”
“The boys wur always nice tae me when Ah wis at school wae them, bit everytime Ah tried tae talk tae them, they’d back aff. It wis only later Ah found oot that it wis because Pat Molloy hid warned no only them, bit aw the other boys ma age at school, whit wid happen tae them if they goat too close tae me because he fancied me himsel…the bugger. Ah wish tae God Ah’d known that at the time.”
“Ach, Ah know ye still don’t like him, bit he wis always good tae his maw and da, Helen.”
“Da disnae mention the war, dis he?” Helen said, changing the subject.
“Naw, it wis only a few weeks efter Big Bertie goat it that wan ae the boys staunin next tae yer da stood oan a mine. Three ae them goat killed and yer da lost three ae his toes. Ye widnae think he’s only goat two toes oan wan ae his feet as he disnae walk wae a limp, bit he wis in a terrible state. His back is full ae scars wae bits ae shrapnel still embedded in it. They goat maist ae it oot, bit telt him it wid be too dangerous tae go poking aboot fur mair. He’s convinced it’s gonnae work its way up intae his brain and kill him wan ae these days, the silly auld bugger.”
Silence.
“Maw, dae ye ever think ae Aunt Jeannie?”
“Whit?”
“Ye heard me. Ma Aunt Jeannie…yer twin sister. Wid ye no like tae go and try and see where they buried her in Spain?”
“Look, aw that stuff wis so long ago...it’s in the past, so it is…the same as Big Bertie.”
“Big Bertie wisnae family, bit Aunt Jeannie wis. Ye’ve spoken mair aboot him than ye’ve ever spoken tae me aboot yer ain sister, so ye hiv,”
“Look, Helen, don’t start. Ah’ve telt ye before, Ah don’t want tae talk aboot that time and place. It’s aw in the past, so it is. Jist leave it…okay?”
“So, anyway, ye don’t think this red dress and red high heels ur too o’er the tap then, dae ye?” Helen asked, getting the message loud and clear.
“Whit ur ye wearing oan tap, tae go up tae the pub?”
“That fox fur that Pat Molloy gied me years ago, wan Christmas.”
“Aw, Helen, Ah’m so proud ae ye, hen. Ye’ve goat a lovely man and yer weans ur so nice. Everywan tells me how good the lassies ur tae aw the auld wans roond aboot here.”
“Aye, well, it’s jist a pity aboot Johnboy though.”
“Whit aboot him? He’s awright, Ah hope?”
“He’s oot ae that door like a whippet oan heat every morning and creeps in late at night. Ah’ve nae idea whit he’s up tae. He’s running aboot wae a wee scruffy crowd, who aw look right sleekit.”
“Ach, he’s jist a growing boy. Ah see him aboot doon here aw the time. Me and yer da saw him and his pals trotting doon Parly Road oan the back ae a horse and cart this morning, loaded doon wae briquettes. When they passed the queue ootside Curley’s, the four ae them aw drapped their troosers and flashed their bare arses at aw the wummin staunin there waiting fur their yesterday’s loaves. Ah must admit, Ah nearly pished ma bloomers. The horse didnae miss a step either. Ye wid’ve thought it wis wan ae the gang. They wur aw bloody filthy, fae heid tae toe, covered in black soot, apart fae the whites ae their eyes, teeth and four bare white arses jiggling aboot in the air. Yer da telt me no tae make oot we recognised Johnboy, efter mumbling something aboot bringing back the birch.”
“See whit Ah mean? Last week Ah gied him a fair skelp oan that lug ae his and jist aboot broke ma fingers oan the side ae that thick skull ae his.”
“Och, Helen, aw the wummin thought it wis hilarious. Ye should’ve heard the wan-liners. It made everywan’s day, so it did, and gied them something tae smile and talk aboot in the queue. We aw need a wee bit ae cheering up noo and again.”
“It’s awright fur ye tae say that, bit ye don’t hiv tae live wae it.”
“Listen, it could be worse. He could be oot thieving every day, insteid ae hivving a wee job selling briquettes. Ye should gie him a break and a wee bit ae credit. There’s a lot worse than him aboot here, ye know. He’s always goat a big smile oan that manky face ae his and he’s always goat a big hello fur everywan he sees.”
“Ach, Ah suppose ye’re right. At least he’s daeing something useful and no creating chaos like that big brother ae his.”
“Aye, well, there’s a beaut’ who knows how tae make an entrance, eh?” she said.
They baith burst oot laughing as Helen looked at hersel in the mirror fur the hunnerth time.
“Ur ye sure Ah don’t look too tarty in this?”
“Well, Ah widnae go that far...” her maw said tae mair laughter.