The Lost Boy and The Gardener's Daughter (48 page)

  “Paul, Paul, ye’re no listening, son.  There’s no way in a month ae Sundays that youse bampots will get away wae this, withoot ma help and ma negotiating skills,” The Big Man butted in soothingly, ignoring his right-haun man.

  “Ah kin only repeat whit Ah’ve jist said, Pat.  Ye’d need tae take this up wae Tony himsel.”

  Silence.

  Paul stood listening tae his heartbeat thumping aff ae his collarbone. He could feel his left leg begin tae tremble.  He pressed it against the table so hard that he felt it gaun numb. There wis only The Big Man and Shaun present, bit he knew fine well that he widnae be able tae take the two ae them if they went fur him.  He might be able tae get in a punch or two, bit they’d break his back tae disable him and then torture the information oot ae him somewhere else.

  “When kin he come in fur a wee chat?”

  “Ah won’t see him until the morra efternoon.  Ah kin pass oan yer message then.”

  “If Ah think that you or they pals ae yers ur working a flanker oan me, ye’ll wish tae fuck ye wur put doon at birth.”

  “Ah hear whit ye’re saying, Pat, bit Tony’s yer man.  Whit he says goes.”

  “So, whit aboot yersel, Paul? Surely you and me kin come tae some arrangement,” The Big Man asked, trying a different tactic. “You tell me where he’s goat the lassie and ye kin walk oot ae here the day wae a grand in yer sky rocket.  Nowan needs tae know.”

  “Ah don’t know where the lassie is, Pat…honest.”

  “Dae ye think we’re fucking stupid, stupid?” Scarface Al snarled beside him, building himsel up tae go fur Paul at a nod fae The Big Man.

  Silence.

  “Right, that heap ae scrap ye took intae Chic.  Whit ur ye efter fur it?” The Big Man finally said, breaking the silence.

  “Five hunner.”

  “A set ae wheels that’s been used in a kidnap and is as hot as a poker and ye want five hunner smackers fur it?” Shaun laughed.

  “Well, that’s whit we’re looking fur.  There’s no a mark oan it.”

  “And whit if Ah tell ye Ah’m no interested?” The Big Man asked him.

  “Ah’ll take it elsewhere.”

  “There’s nae a fucking scrappy in the toon that wid take that aff yer hauns and ye know it,” Shaun sneered, though noo a lot less volatile.

  “Three hunner,” The Big Man said.

  “Ah’ll need it in cash…the day…plus Ah need a wee shot ae a clean set ae wheels.”

  “Whit fur?” Shaun wanted tae know.

  Silence.

  “Oan wan condition.  Tony his tae come and discuss oor wee business partnership the morra.  If he disnae, there’s gonnae be trouble.  Go and speak tae Jake aboot the wheels.  Shaun, gie Paul here the three hunner.”

  “Bit…”

  “The dosh, Shaun,” The Big Man repeated.

  “Kin Ah get an envelope while ye’re at it?”

  “Whit dae ye think this is, a fucking post office?” The scar-faced prick growled.

  “Gie it tae him in an envelope, Shaun,” The Big Man said.

  When Paul left the club, he heided straight alang
Hanover
Lane and nipped intae Queen Street Station by the North Hanover Street entrance.  A bizzy wis hinging aboot, wandering aimlessly between the gates tae the platforms and the entrance oot oan tae George Square, keeping his beady eyes oan who wis coming and gaun. Paul also saw Wan-bob Broon, wan ae The Big Man’s heavies, skulking aboot o’er at the Queen Street entrance.  Paul couldnae see Jimmy, his brother-in-law, so he doubled back tae the taxi rank queue at the entrance he’d jist come in and nipped alang tae the goods depot section.  He spotted Jimmy towing a long trailer full ae parcels and newspapers oan a three-wheeled Scammell truck.  Jimmy’s face drapped when he saw Paul.

  “Ah cannae bloody believe this.  First ye invade ma hoose and noo ye invade ma work,” he growled, disgusted.

  “Here, dae me a favour, Jimmy, kin ye gie this tae Kathleen tae haud oan tae fur me and Ah’ll collect it later?” Paul asked him, taking the envelope oot ae the inside ae his shirt and haunin it tae him.

  “Whit is it?” he asked suspiciously, squeezing it wae baith hauns.

  “It’s okay…it’s legit.  Ah telt Kathleen aboot it and it wis her that said Ah should gie it tae yersel tae take hame.  Ah’ll be up later tae collect it.”

  “Jist make sure that lassie is oot ae ma hoose by the time Ah get hame.”

  “Whit time ur ye finished at?”

  “Ten o’clock the night.”

  “Aye, well, she’ll be long gone by then,” Paul said, aboot turning and heiding aff tae pick up Wan-eye and his set ae wheels.

Chapter Seventy Five

  Saba sat oan the couch and looked aboot. This wis clearly the sitting room fur the family.  It wis quite small.  The couch stretched across the two windaes, which looked oan tae the busy road below.  As well as the couch, there wis an ermchair and a wee coffee table in front ae a gas fire.  Wean’s toys wur scattered aboot the flair.  In wan corner, tae the left ae the open windae, there wis a bird cage oan a tall stand, wae its door open, hoosing a budgie, and a cat, by the name ae Tiger, lying sprawled alang the back ae the couch underneath the bird cage, pretending tae be sleeping, wae its tail swishing up and doon every noo and again.  Oan the opposite side ae the room fae the windae, there wis a recessed area that held a child’s bed and a cot.  Kathleen and Jimmy’s weans lay sleeping, hivving an efternoon nap.  Saba smiled at the sound ae wan ae the weans snoring loudly.  She hidnae realised that weans snored.  Efter Jimmy and Paul hid left, Kathleen hid put the weans tae bed and hid drawn a hinging bed sheet across the opening ae the recess tae gie the weans their ain space.  Wance they wur asleep, there hid been an embarrassing silence between Saba and Kathleen.  Tae break the ice, Saba hid asked Kathleen if she could hiv a bath.  The embarrassing silence hid grown mair intense before Kathleen hid finally spoken.

  “Ah’m sorry, bit that’s no possible, unless ye want tae wash in cauld water.  Jimmy disnae get his wages till Friday and Ah hivnae any money fur the gas meter tae heat the water,” she’d said, clearly embarrassed.

  “Oh, I have money.  How much do you need?” Saba hid replied.

  “Look, Ah’m sorry…if Ah’d known ye wur coming, Ah wid’ve arranged something,” Kathleen hid said, red-faced.

  “No, it’s me that should be apologising to you.  Please don’t feel under any obligation.  I wasn’t aware that I would be coming here either.  Look, how much does the, er, meter need?” Saba asked, lifting her purse oot ae her bag.

  “A bob.”

  “A bob?”

  “Sorry, it takes a shilling.”

  “Well, look, here’s three shillings,” Saba hid said, haunin Kathleen the three coins.

  Saba wis annoyed at Paul.  He’d barely been at his sister’s hoose fifteen minutes before he’d disappeared.  She wid’ve made mair ae an issue aboot it, bit didnae want tae make a fuss in front ae his sister.

  “So tell me, yer Ladyship, how in hell hiv ye hid the misfortune tae get in tow wae that wee brother ae mine?”

  “Ladyship?  No, no, you don’t have to call me that,” Saba laughed, embarrassed.  “Please call me Saba.  Everyone else does.”

  O’er the next couple ae hours, Saba explained how she’d ended up in three o two Keppochhill Road in Springburn.  Some ae the time the baith ae them ended up laughing hysterically, especially when Saba telt Kathleen aboot Paul driving aff and leaving her in the middle ae naewhere, only fur her tae come across him sitting beside a pink Mr Whippy van, drinking a bottle ae Irn Bru at the tap ae a mountain.

  “And he’s got a wee dug as well?  Whit’s it called?” Kathleen asked.

  “One-eye.”

  “Wan-eye?”

  “That’s what he calls it,” Saba said, explaining how the pup came tae lose an eye.

  “We…meaning masel, Ma and Da…never knew he wis up in the Highlands.  We never knew he wis in a mental hospital either.  Ah’ve come across him when he’s been oan the run fae that approved school he wis sent tae, bit apart fae that, Ah don’t think Ma and Da hiv seen him since he wis eleven or twelve.  The last time Ah saw him wis when he wis oan the run and him and his pals gied me and Jimmy a haun tae flit.”

  “Flit?”

  “Move hoose.  Ah remember asking him whether he’d been up tae see Ma, bit he jist shook his heid and asked me why he wid dae that, given that he hidnae seen or heard fae her since he wis put away.  It disnae make sense tae me.  Yer ma is still yer ma, no matter how long ye’ve been apart.  Ah’ve never been convinced that she disnae love him…that’s whit he thinks…bit Ah think as far as he’s concerned, he’s moved oan somewhere else.  Some decision fur a boy who hisnae been hame since he wis eleven, eh?” Kathleen asked, wiping a tear away fae her eye.

  “I’m sorry, Kathleen,” Saba whispered, leaning across and placing her haun oan Kathleen’s knee.

  “Oh, don’t feel sorry.  This is life in the McBride clan.”

  “You know, when I first met Paul, he came across as very aggressive.  I had never met anyone my own age with that sort of anger.  I now know that it wasn’t really aimed at me, but at my father.”

  “Oh, Ah’m sorry tae hear that, Saba.”

  “No, no, it’s nothing to do with you.  In fact, believe it or not, my father deserves all he got,” Saba replied.

  Saba explained tae Kathleen aboot the relationship between her father and Innes MacKay, how there hid been bad blood between them for generations and that, as long as her father wis still The Duke, it wid probably continue.  She explained aboot the boat and the road trip and how she’d come tae understaun Paul better as each mile went oan.

  “Saba, ye’re no falling fur that wee brother ae mine’s, by any chance, ur ye?”

  “Handsome though he is, Kathleen, there’s someone else in the frame for him, or at least, there was.”

  “Whit, no another titled Lady?”  Kathleen asked, astonished.

  “No, her name’s Morven and she’s lovely.  I went to school with her when I was younger.  She’s still at school, but works for my father part-time.  Actions speak louder than words and I’m afraid, I’ve never really lived up to the title that was bestowed on me when I was born.  To tell you the truth, I’ve been a right pain in the ass.  Believe it or not, it was Paul who brought me to my senses.  I hope now that I haven’t left it too late and that I can turn my life around and try to live up to what is expected of me.”

  “Aye, well, it’s a pity Paul disnae follow the advice he feels qualified tae dish oot tae others.  He kin be quite kind, friendly and helpful, when he wants tae, bit there’s another side tae him that’s no so nice.  He’s been running aboot wae a wee gang since he wis a wean.  Nae matter whit that ma and da ae mine tried tae dae, tae get him tae stay oan the straight and narrow, it jist didnae work, including ma da ladling intae him wae a leather belt.  Nothing seemed tae get through tae him.  They wur actually relieved when he goat put tae an approved school, Ah remember.  They wur scared ae whit wis gonnae happen tae him wae him being oot oan the streets tae aw hours.  He totally broke them wae his behaviour.  Wan day, Ma went and spoke wae Father Joseph, doon at St Mungo’s, hoping tae get some sort ae advice.  He telt her that her and Da hid tae accept that they’d lost Paul tae the devil.  ‘He’s a lost boy now, Mrs McBride.  Accept it and move on.  I’ll pray for him oan behauf ae you and Mr McBride,’ he’d said tae her.”

  “A priest said that about Paul?”

  “Aye, kin ye imagine?  Ah wis only aboot sixteen at the time, bit Ah remember hivving a terrible row wae her.  Ah pointed oot that the only reason he wis saying that wis because Paul and his pals hid stripped the lead aff ae the roof ae the chapel vestry and sold it tae wan ae the local scrap dealers fur a few bob.  It wis only efter that, that Ah realised that Ma and Da wur grateful fur somewan else tae take the burden aff their shoulders…and conscience.”

  Saba explained how Whitey and Innes hid, fur years, taken in waifs and strays, tae recuperate fae trauma or tae gie their parents respite.  She said that it wis almost always boys, but much younger than Paul.  Aw the families in the strath and surrounding area called them ‘lost boys,’ no oot ae malice, bit as a way ae rationalising the circumstances that the boys hid found themsels in.  She explained how Whitey and Innes wur universally viewed as living saints in the strath because ae the care they’d shared o’er the years.

  “I find it incredible that Paul had already been labelled with the term ‘lost boy’ long before he ever set foot in the strath.  Do you think he is a lost boy?” Saba asked his sister.

  “Ah think he lost his way a long time ago, bit you seem tae know him a lot better than whit Ah dae.  Whit dae ye think yersel?  It sounds tae me that he’s a lost cause mair than anything else.”

  “I don’t know.  He gives the impression that he’s in control of what he does.  I think that if he put his energy into something more productive and less criminal, he would probably be a success at whatever he did,” Saba replied, before gaun oan tae tell Kathleen aboot Paul working oan the croft and how it hid been reported that Innes hid been heard tae say that Paul wis the son that he’d never hid.

  “Whit an opportunity, eh?  There’s nae way he’ll stay oot ae the jail if he comes back tae Glesga, that’s fur sure.  So, is he planning tae go back up tae the Highlands?”

  “He’s taking the money he received for selling the boat back up to Mr McKay, but he’s made it clear that he’s returning to Glasgow soon after.  When he does open up, he talks a lot about his friends.”

  “Whit a bloody waste!  Ah wish somewan could talk sense intae that heid ae his…the bampot that he is.”

  “Have you met his friends, Kathleen?”

  “Who? Ali Baba and the forty thieves?  Oh aye…wance met, never forgotten.  There’s five ae them, including Paul.  When they’re no in the jail, they go everywhere wae each other.  They spend every waking minute getting up tae nae good.  Nothing’s too expensive or too cheap tae steal.  If they take a fancy tae something, they go fur it.  They really don’t care who they upset or whose toes they trample oan, although, Ah’ve heard that they don’t hiv a reputation fur taking liberties, like some ae the toe-rags aboot this place.  Wan ae the boys, Johnboy Taylor…his ma used tae go oot wae wan ae the big gangsters in Glesga…a guy called Pat Molloy, or The Big Man, as he’s widely known as.”

  “Yes, Paul mentioned his name a few times.”

  “Well, Ah’ve heard that’s maybe wan ae the reasons that they’ve been allowed tae get away wae blue murder fur so long.  Some ae the local tickets…”

  “Tickets?”

  “So-called up-and-coming hard men.  They’re no sure ae the status ae the boys and so they’re a bit wary that if they go kicking the arses ae Paul and his manky pals, there might be swift retribution fae The Big Man and his cronies.  That worries
me because Ah know Helen Taylor.  She lives jist roond the corner in Carlisle Street and she cannae staun the sight ae Pat Molloy.  If only Paul wid go back tae the Highlands and that wee lassie that he’s fell fur,” Kathleen said wistfully.

  “I doubt if that will happen, Kathleen,” Saba said, as wan ae the weans woke the other wan up wae the worst coughing fit Saba hid ever heard.

  “Right, Saba, go and get yer bath, hen, bit while ye’re here, Ah jist hiv tae warn ye that wan ae ma weans his goat croup.  It’s a breathing ailment, bit the sound ae the coughing kin be a bit disturbing if ye hivnae come across it before.  It disnae help that this place is riddled wae damp, even in the summer. Try and no let it bother ye.  Ah’ll jist go and put the kettle oan.  Ah usually put boiling water intae a basin and sit wae him in the kitchen, under the table, which Ah cover wae that bed sheet that’s hinging up.  The steam helps him tae breathe mair easily.  The doctor says the steam opens up his tubes and makes breathing easier, so don’t be alarmed if Ah’m no sitting here wance ye’re finished,” Kathleen said, as she picked up eighteen-month-old Jimmy Junior.