Parly Road: The Glasgow Chronicles 1 (10 page)

BOOK: Parly Road: The Glasgow Chronicles 1
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  “A coo?” they aw chorused in wonder.

  “Ye mean a ‘moo’ coo?” Tony asked.

  “Ah mean a ‘moo’ coo,” Calum confirmed.

  “Ah knew it. At first Ah thought it wis a bull.  That’s why Ah wisnae too sure,” Tony said knowingly tae Skull and Johnboy.

  “Aye, ye’ve goat yersels a nice wee bit ae stew and steak there, boys,” Calum said.

  “So much fur no finding any lucky midgies, eh?” said Tony, clearly chuffed, as the coo’s heid disappeared intae a midgie bin.

  “Whit ur ye gonnae day wae it?”

  “Wur no sure.”

  “The Big Man wid probably be interested in it. How much ur ye asking fur it?”

  “A tenner,” said Tony.

  “Ye’ve nae chance.”

  “Okay, we’ll take a fiver.”

  “Right, Ah’m aff tae deliver ma message and then Ah’ll go and see whit he says.  Youse stay here and Ah’ll be back in aboot twenty minutes.”

  And wae that, Calum disappeared oot through the close.

  “Who’s The Big Man then?” Johnboy asked.

  “Hiv ye never heard ae Pat Molloy?” Skull asked in disbelief, looking at him as if he’d jist arrived fae another planet.

  “Big Pat Molloy is the local Big Man. Nowan crosses him or they end up in The Royal or the Nolly,” Tony said knowingly, as Skull nodded.

  “Is that right?”

  “Aye, he’s always goat tons ae money and a big flashy Jaguar that he drives aroond in, wae aw these fancy big dolls perched beside him who jist sit, no saying anything, bit looking beautiful.”

  “Wow! And dae ye baith know him?”

  “Everywan knows The Big Man. Nowan fucks him aboot, including the bizzies,” Skull said, tapping the side ae his nose wae a manky finger.

  “Well, Ah’ve never heard ae him.”

  “Well, ye’ll see him soon enough. He wis the wan that Ah sold aw the cameras tae that we goat oot ae the cars fae aroond the colleges,” Tony said.

  “Wis that you?  When that ma ae mine heard aboot that she wondered whit wid’ve happened tae them.”

  “Aye, a bob each fur aw they cameras wis pretty good.  He took eighteen aff ae us and telt us tae throw another nine in the bin as they wur shite,” Skull chipped in.

  “Aye, he wis asking if we kin get him some mair as well, by the way,” Tony said, clearly jist remembering.

  “And who’s Calum?”

  “He’s The Big Man’s runner.”

  “Runner?”

  “Aye, he runs aw o’er the place, delivering messages and wee packages tae people.”

  “Whit kind ae packages?”

  “Who knows, bit Ah heard that The Big Man’s paying fur him tae join a running club so he kin run in the Olympics wan day.”

  Jist then, Horsey John appeared, limping through the close wae the use ae a walking stick.  He’d a wee midget wae a club fit and a bunnet that wis five sizes too big fur him in tow.

  “Ur youse the wans wae the coo?” Horsey asked, eyeing up their chewing beauty.

  “Aye, that’ll be me, John,” Tony said, stepping forward.

  “Right, Pat says he’ll gie ye three quid and that’s it.”

  “Brilliant! It’s a pleasure tae deal wae The Big Man.”

  “Aye, right,” Horsey John muttered, as he haunded o’er three pounds worth ae coins, maistly in pennies, thrupenny bits and tanners. “Right, Tiny, you’re oan tap ae the cart.”

  Ootside the front ae the closemooth stood a horse and cart. The horse wis wearing a hat wae flowers oan it. Skull heided fur the horse and stood talking tae it while Johnboy and Tony stood watching Tiny pulling the coo up the ramp wae a rope roond its heid and Horsey John bent o’er, pushing and slapping it oan its arse tae gie it a haun. The boys offered tae help them bit Horsey John telt them tae leave it tae the experts.

  When the horse and cart wae the coo oan the back disappeared roond the corner, heiding fur McAslin Street, Johnboy, Tony and Skull aw started tae jump up and doon, screaming wae excitement.

  “Fucking pure dead brilliant!” Skull shouted.

  “Ah’ve never hid so much money in ma life,” Johnboy yelped wae exitement.

  “Aye, well, we deserve it seeing as we found it,” Tony said.

  “Finders keepers, losers greeters…that’s whit Ah say,” Skull whooped, kissing the tips ae his manky fingers.

  “Right. Ah say we split nine bob between us and start a stash wae the rest,” Tony suggested.

  “Deal.”

  “Fine wae me.”

  “Right, Ah’ll keep the two pound eleven bob safe until we kin arrange a safe planking place tae hide it in. Gie’s wan ae yer socks tae put these coins in, Skull. Mines ur aw full ae holes,” Tony commanded.

  “Ah wonder whit happened tae the back ae Horsey John’s napper?” Johnboy wondered oot loud.

  “Whit aboot it?” Skull asked, haunin o’er a sock.

  “Did ye no see the big bald patch where the hair wis shaved that hid a big red cross scar oan it? It looked as if he’s jist goat stitches taken oot.”

  “Ah never noticed anything,” Skull muttered, looking across at Tony.

  “Aye, ye’ve still goat a lot tae learn, Skull.  Ye need tae keep they eyes ae yers peeled,” Tony said, making oot he’d spotted it as well.

 

Thursday

  The day started aff jist like any other day. Olive wis daeing her usual whitever it wis she usually did, and the class wur daeing their usual whitever it wis they did tae ignore whitever it wis she wanted them tae be daeing.

  It wis the five tae seven year aulds’ fancy dress party that morning. They wur the lucky wans and goat their party the day before the aulder wans in the school and wur allowed tae break up a day early fur the summer holidays. A couple ae the goody-goody wans fae Johnboy’s class wur allowed doon tae help oot wae the party o’er in the huts at the other side ae the playground.  The party wis in the main corridor because it wis wide and the flairs wur varnished so if any ae the wee wans pished themsels wae excitement, it wis easily mopped up by Danny the Janny. Johnboy’s maw telt him that it took her and three ae the other cleaners an hour tae scrub fae wan end ae it tae the other, which they did, doon oan their hauns and
knees, five days a week at hauf five every morning.

  The first Johnboy heard aboot something no being right wis when he wis in the playground wae Tony and Skull. The racket coming fae the huts wis really loud wae aw the weans howling and greeting.  The wee wans’ party wis called ‘Doon oan the Farm’. Fur yonks, the wee wans hid been decking oot the corridor tae make it look like a farm. Aw the party tables wur made oot ae straw bales. Aw the weans wur asked tae turn up dressed as farmers…whitever that wis supposed tae look like. Johnboy hid first noticed them when he turned up fur school that morning.  Maist ae the boys wur decked oot in cowboy suits while maist ae the lassies turned up as milk maids. Ye could tell that they wur milkmaids withoot asking because they wur aw dragging big tin pails doon the street, making a hell ae a racket. Johnboy heard later that the wans who didnae turn up in fancy dress goat straw stuffed up the legs ae their troosers and jumpers and wur telt they wur scarecrows.

  “Hiv ye heard whit’s happened?” Tony asked, speaking oot ae the side ae his gub.

  “Naw,” Skull replied, pausing in the middle ae picking his nose.

  “Buttercup, the coo fae ‘The Wooden Tops’ wis supposed tae put in an appearance at the wee wans’ party and didnae turn up. Noo aw the weans ur upset.”

  “Selfish cow.”

  “Right bang oot ae order, that wan.”

  “And tae think we came across a wandering coo, eh?” Tony said, still talking oot ae the side ae his gub, looking towards where the howling wis coming fae.

  “So? Whit’s that tae dae wae the weans here?” Skull eventually asked, no being able tae contain his curiosity.

  “It widnae be oor Buttercup, wid it?” Johnboy whispered, looking aboot, feeling a wee bit wobbly.

  “Well, when the coo wis delivered tae the transport lodging hoose yesterday, fur safe keeping, it went missing because some diddy left the latch ae the gate open,” Tony informed them.

  “So, how dae the wee wans know that it wis their coo that goat kidnapped?”

  “Well, when it wis discovered that it wis offskie, they daft pricks, Crisscross and Jobby, came roond tae the school and asked aw the weans tae remember tae look in their back courts when they went hame and get in touch wae them if they came across it…deid or alive.”

  “Ah’m still no convinced that their Buttercup wis oor coo, bit thank Christ we goat oor money, cash in haun, when we did, eh?” Skull laughed, looking o’er towards the howling huts.

  “It wid be better if we keep this between us fur the time being. We widnae want tae upset some ae they big maws, noo, wid we?” Tony advised.

 

Friday

  Johnboy hid been asking her and then pleading wae her and noo it wis too late. His jeans hid finally disintegrated and fallen apart when Helen wis attempting tae scrub the dirt oot ae them while gieing them a wash in the sink fur his class party. Johnboy wis running aboot the hoose in his bare arse, wae a dish cloth wrapped roond himsel tae hide his shame, screaming the place doon.

  “Ye’ll bloody well wear them and that’s that,” Helen screamed at him.

  “Ah wullnae! Everywan will laugh at me,” he howled.

  “Naw they wullnae, ya daft
eejit!”

  “They will!”

  “Ye’re wearing them ‘cause there’s nothing else, Johnboy,” she said tae him, soothingly, trying tae placate him, bit waiting fur the inevitable.

  “Aarrgghhhh!” he wailed, lying oan his back, kicking hell oot ae the flair wae the heels ae his feet, jist as Betty fae next door arrived and sat doon tae join in the wee pantomine.

  “Ma, Ma, please…please don’t put me oot in them,” he pleaded.

  “Wid ye jist listen tae this, Betty? See whit Ah’ve goat tae put up wae oan a morning? And Ah widnae be wanting tae kick they flair boards wae yer legs so high because Betty’s getting a fine auld deck ae they Kerrs Pinks ae yours,” Helen said, taking a fag fae Betty and lighting it up.

  “Ah hate ye!” Johnboy screamed, clamping his legs shut.

  “Johnboy, don’t let me lose ma temper noo.  Get them oan and none ae yer nonsense,” she said, flinging them across tae him.

  “Please...” he pleaded.

  “Look, Ah’m no telling ye again, get intae that lobby and put them oan and me and Betty will tell ye if ye kin tell or no,” she said, drumming her fingers
oan the erm ae the chair, wae her fag bobbing up and doon, creating wee blue smoke rings. 

  Johnboy stood up, cupping his crotch wae the tea towel and heided tae the door wae them under his erm, sobbing and girning tae himsel.

  “Right, in ye come when ye’re ready,” she shouted, winking across at Betty.

  He walked in as the baith ae them sat still in their chairs like a couple ae statues, feart tae breathe, in case they sent him aff oan wan again.

  “See, Ah telt ye,” he said, sniffling.

  “Ye telt me whit?”

  “That everywan in the school will know that Ah’m wearing lassies’ jeans.”

  “Naw they won’t, will they, Betty?”

  “Ah couldnae tell if Ah didnae awready know,” the lying witch said, taking a puff ae her fag.

  “They will. Every time Ah hiv tae go fur a pee Ah’ll hiv tae dae wan sitting doon.”

  “Why kin ye no be gaun fur a shite insteid ae a pee, eh?” Helen demanded, parting her hauns oot in front ae hersel, as Betty took another drag ae her fag, nodding in agreement.

  “Because everywan will see Ah don’t hiv a zip up the front, so it’ll be obvious that Ah’ll hiv tae pull ma troosers doon tae dae a pee.”

  He started tae snivel again.

  “Zorro didnae hiv a zip oan the front ae his troosers, at least no that Ah kin recall,” Betty said, encouragingly.

  “And Ah never clocked Ivanhoe wae a zip either,” Helen chipped in.

  “That’s because he wis always wearing a suit ae armour,” Johnboy reminded her.

  “Well, Robin Hood then,” she shot back.

  “Tights.”

  “There ye go then. Ye’ve said it yersel. If Robin Hood kin wear tights, whit’s wrang wae you wearing a pair ae yer sister’s jeans withoot a zip oan the front?”

  “That’s no the point. Zorro disnae hiv a lassies’ zip sticking oot ae the side ae his troosers fur everywan tae clock,” he retorted, starting tae snivel again.

  “Aye, Janet only wore them twice and never wore them efter that,” Betty said, fae within her cloud ae blue fag smoke.

  “Aye, Ah know. Ah noticed that they’ve goat a Frasers’ label oan them. Ur ye sure she disnae want them back, Betty?”

  “Naw, that arse ae hers widnae keek in them noo.”

  “Ah’ll need a black hat and a black mask,” Johnboy sniffled, peering doon at the zip oan his hip.

  “And anyway, she didnae pay fur them, if ye know whit Ah mean?” Betty said, winking.

BOOK: Parly Road: The Glasgow Chronicles 1
8.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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