Parly Road: The Glasgow Chronicles 1 (25 page)

  “Wae ma two brothers and Calum’s sister, Sarah May, we’ve maybe goat oorsels a group.”

  “Sarah?” Calum said, squirming as he looked o’er at The Big Man.

  “Ach, we’re fucked!” The Big Man groaned.

  “How come?” Kirsty challenged him.

  “Dae ye mean, Sarah May Todd? Florence Nightingale?  The lady wae the lamp, or in her case, the lady wae the pie? The wan that came in here wan night and scudded me oan the foreheid wae a mince pie in front ae aw ma customers before aboot turning withoot an explanation fur the said assault? That Sarah May?” he said, sitting back in his chair, fingers back oan they temples ae his.

  “Dae ye no think that the fact she’s training tae be a nurse might suggest she’s the furgiving, caring type?”

  “Kirsty, Ah don’t think ye fully understaun the situation here, hen. There’s no way she’ll help me oot. She bloody hates ma guts, so she dis.”

  “Ah don’t particularly like ye masel, bit it disnae stoap me helping ye oot tae gie yer wee maw and da a good anniversary night oot.”

  “Thanks fur that kind endorsement, Kirsty. Nae wonder that auld wummin, Harry Bertram, goat shot ae ye fae his salon. The way ye build up ma confidence in times ae trouble and strife is overwhelming, so it is,” he drawled sarcastically.

  “Ach, furget it then,” Kirsty said, gaun back tae her book ae big words.

  “Tell her the story, Calum.”

  “Er, well, there wis a wee misunderstauning between Pat and Frankie, who wis Sarah May’s manager at the time.”

  “And?”

  “Well, Sarah wis supposed tae sign up wae Bad Tidings, the record company o’er in Partick.   The day she turned up tae sign oan the dotted line there wis nae sign ae Frankie.”

  “Well, there’s a surprise,” Kirsty said, looking fae wan tae the other.

  “So, because Frankie, who wis her manager and agent, wisnae aboot oan the day, Sarah May couldnae sign up due tae being underage, so she blamed Pat.”

  “Whit hid it tae dae wae Pat?” Kirsty asked, looking o’er at The Big Man.

  “Aye, well, ye see, masel and Frankie’d hid a wee disagreement at the time, o’er a business transaction and as a result ae sensitive negotiations, Frankie ended up in The Royal wae a broken knee.”

  “So, she blames ye fur messing up her chance ae the big time?”

  “Er, aye, Ah think that wid maybe hiv something tae dae wae it.”

  “Aye, right enough, come tae think ae it, she probably widnae dae ye any favours,” wis Kirsty’s parting shot as she goat up aff her stool and walked intae the store room tae make hersel a cup ae tea.

  “Calum, take ma advice, son. Don’t mess wae any ae these local dolly birds. If ye kin, get yersel a nice wee posh bit ae stuff fae Bishopbriggs or Kirkintilloch, where they’re nae used tae talking back tae their men.”

  “So, whit ur ye gonnae dae noo?” Calum asked, resuming his squats and lunges.

  “We’ll gie Kirsty five minutes and Ah’ll try ma charm oan her again tae see whit she kin dae fur me regarding the pie flinger.”

Chapter Twenty Nine

  “C-o-a-l -B-r-i-q-u-e-t-t-e-s-s-s!”

  “W-a-n-a-n-d-a-t-a-n-n-e-r-f-u-r-a-d-o-z-e-n-n-n!”

  “C-h-e-a-p-a-s-f-u-c-k-k-k!”

  Tony and Johnboy could hear Skull and Joe fae the front ae the street. Every time they went by a closemooth, it wis like a megaphone throwing oot their voices shouting, “Coal briquettes!”    

  Things hid been a bit slow. Fur a start, maist people usually goat their coal and briquettes oan a Saturday and secondly, which wis even worse, nowan hid any money.

  “Ah’ll take a dozen aff ye, son, bit Ah cannae pay ye tae ma man gets paid oan Friday,” wis the usual response.

  Joe hid stoapped blowing the bugle as well because aw the weans kept appearing fae far and wide, wae clothes they’d rifled fae their maws’ hooses or neighbours’ washing lines, thinking that the ragman hid arrived oan the scene, earlier than usual that week. When the weans saw that they didnae hiv any toys tae gie them in exchange fur aw the shite they wur turning up wae, they’d been gaun mental and chucking stanes at the boys and Jessie. Wan mad wummin hid chased Skull wae a mop, jist missing his heid because some ae the wee basturts hid nicked aw her good lace table cloths fae her washing line that she wis using fur her daughter’s wedding function later oan in the week.

  “So, whit ur the briquettes made oot ae?” Johnboy asked Tony fae where he wis sitting up oan tap ae the stack, scanning the windaes in the street fur customers.

  “Ah’m no sure. Ah think it’s aw the dross and coal dust they hiv lying aboot. They put some watery stuff in it and then bake it in big ovens. When it comes oot, it’s in the shape ae a wee square brick. Clever, eh?”

  “Aye, Ah’ve heard a lot ae the wummin, including that ma ae mine, prefer them tae coal.”

  They’d jist drapped aff three dozen tae Fat Fingered Finklebaum in the pawn shoap, two dozen tae the Fruit Bazaar and six dozen tae The McAslin Bar where The Big Man hid tried tae gie them a bob a dozen, bit Tony hid held his bottle and telt Johnboy and Skull tae put the briquettes back intae the boxes.

  They wur jist coming up tae the junction ae Taylor Street and McAslin Street where the hooses ran oot, when Joe and Skull appeared oot ae a closemooth and jumped up oan tae the cart. The next hooses wur further doon the street, where McAslin Street crossed o’er St James Road beside Rodger The Dodger’s scrap shoap.

  “Aye, we’re no shifting them as quick as Ah thought, even wae drapping the price,” Joe said, jist efter telling a couple ae weans tae piss aff and take their rags back hame wae them efter following the cart aw the way doon as far as Murray Street.

  “Aye, bit we’ll get there.  It’s always this slow at the beginning ae the week.”

  “Look, there’s yer fat pal,” Skull said, motionning wae his chin, as Jessie crossed St James Road.

  Fatty Milne hid clocked them and nipped intae the wee sweetie shoap beside the school.

  “Aye, ye better run, Fatso!” Skull shouted as that fat arse ae his disappeared through the door.

  “At least Ah don’t share a play piece wae him,” Johnboy scoffed at Skull.

  “Haw, fucking haw,” came the reply.

  It wis a bit strange though, Johnboy thought tae himsel.  He wis sure that he’d clocked the blob up in St Mungo Street aboot a hauf hour earlier.  He’d fairly been waddling aboot.  Unfortunately, efter the second sighting, Johnboy’d never gied him a second thought.

  “Right, we’ll need tae get change. Johnboy, nip across tae Sherbet’s and get three tipped singles. Take this ten bob note that The Big Man gied us and make sure he gies ye plenty ae thrupennies and tanner bits in the change,” said Tony, haunin Johnboy the note.

  “Aye, and make sure it’s Embassies and no any ae they Park Drives shite he papped oan tae us the last time. Ah’ll be checking them when ye come back.”

  “Joe, get them yersel if ye’re no happy,” Johnboy said, jumping doon and heiding o’er tae the shoap.

  “Awright, Sherbet?” Johnboy asked, o’er the sound ae Sherbet singing alang tae The Beatles asking somewan fur help.

  “Awright, wee man? Whit kin Ah dae ye oot ae?”

  “Three tipped singles, and no they Park Drives.”

  “Ah didnae know ye’d started smoking,” he said, opening a packet ae five Park Drives.

  “Ah hivnae.  They’re fur ma maw.”

  There wis a slight hesitation before Sherbet threw doon the packet ae cheap chats and started tae open a packet ae ten Embassies.

  “How is that maw ae yours anyway? Still raving and ranting and leading the charge against aw they Sheriff officers?”

  “Probably.”

  “Aye, Ah saw her up in Grafton Square a couple ae weeks ago at Mary MacDonald’s hoose sale. Bliddy bonkers she wis.”

  “Did ye?”

  “And where dis she get aw that rent-a-mob fae? Ma wife, Maisa’s been translating whit her and her pals hiv been up tae aroond aboot the closemooths tae aw the mothers. They wur fair impressed wae her.”

  “Wur they?”

  “Oh, aye. They wurnae too sure aboot people no paying their bills though, bit they wur impressed that yer maw went oot ae her way tae help another neighbour who wis in trouble. That’ll be ninepence.”

  “Ma ma asked if ye kin gie her plenty ae thrupennies and tanner bits in the change.”

  “No can do. Ah’m looking fur change masel,” he said, haunin o’er three hauf croons, a bob, a tanner and wan thrupenny bit.

  Jist then, Parvais came intae the shoap.

  “Hello Johnboy. How are you?”

  “Ah’m fine, Parvais.  How aboot yersel?”

  “Very fine, thank you.”

  He then said something in Pakistani tae Sherbet, who pointed intae Madeira Cake Avenue.

  “Hiv tae go. See ye, Sherbet.”

  “Aye, see ye, Johnboy.”

  When Johnboy came oot ae the shoap, Jessie and the cart wur sitting parked up ootside the side entrance ae the school dining hut. Skull wis still trying tae get a decent sound oot ae the bugle, tae nae effect, and Jessie wis chomping, wae her nose in the sack ae feed at her feet.

  “Here ye go,” Johnboy said, flinging the wee white paper bag containing the fags at them. “He didnae hiv any loose change fur us.”

  “They better be Embassies, Johnboy, or ye’ll be gaun back wae them,” Skull scowled, sounding like Johnboy’s ma, as Joe and Tony held the fags up tae their eyes.

  “Oh, aye, here comes trouble in a string vest,” Joe said, as they aw turned tae look up towards Grafton Street.

  Calum The Runner hid appeared roond the corner and wis heiding towards them, running like a whippet.

  “Aw, fur Christ’s sake…kin Ah no get any peace?” Tony groaned as Calum skidded tae a stoap beside the cart and then started tae dae push-ups aff ae the side ae it.

  “Aye, aye, boys. Whit’s up?”

  “Ye don’t fancy sixty dozen briquettes, by any chance, dae ye, Calum?”

  “Naw, bit Ah know The Big Man wid probably take them aff yer hauns.”

  “Aye, Ah bet he wid, the fucking thieving stoat.  He’s awready tried and been telt tae fuck aff,” Skull replied.

  “Right, spit it oot, Calum.  Whit ur ye efter?”

  “Shaun says he’s cleared the cabin and he’ll need twenty smackers up front first thing oan Saturday morning.”

  “Tell him tae fuck aff.  We’ll decide when we take o’er the place, no him,” Skull growled.

  “He says he’ll leave yer doos in the cabin efter he locks it up oan Friday, bit they’ll need fed oan Saturday sharp, as he’s only goat enough feed fur them till this Thursday.”

  “Ah knew we shouldnae hiv dealt wae they bloody crooks, Tony. Ye wur well warned…Ah telt ye.”

  “Aw, put a cork in it, Skull. Calum, tell Shaun that Saturday’s nae good fur us as we’re busy. Tell him we’ll collect the keys oan Thursday night.”

  “Nice wan, Tony,” Calum said impressed. “He’s obviously trying tae catch youse oan the hop, cause he telt me tae also tell youse that if he disnae get the dosh oan time, ye’ll know whit the interest is.”

  “Aye, that’ll teach the pricks tae try and get wan o’er oan us, eh? Ah’d love tae see the looks oan the faces ae him and they ugly brothers ae his when ye tell him that,” Joe said, as they aw laughed, getting excited at the thought ae getting their grubby fingers oan the cabin.

  “So, whit else is happening, Calum?” Tony asked.

  “Ach, The Big Man is daeing his dinger cause every group he books fur his maw and da’s anniversary party keep pulling oot at the last minute.”

  “Where’s the party?”

  “Hiv ye no heard? It’s a private function in the pub a week oan Saturday. Ah think wan ae yer trannys is gonnae be the star prize in the Bingo. Everywan is talking aboot it, trying tae wangle an invite.”

  “Ah think ma ma and da ur gaun tae it, alang wae ma granny and granda,” Johnboy chipped in fae his perch oan tap ae the briquettes.

  “So, whit group did he get in the end?”

  “There isnae wan jist noo. He’s gaun crackers…Frankie MacDonald his fucked aff oot ae the toon tae Dunoon because the last three groups he’s booked ur too feart tae play in The McAslin.”

  “So, who’s aw gaun tae the party then?”

  “Everywan and their dug will be there. He’s even bringing in Tam the Bam fae The Grafton o’er in Cathedral Street tae manage the bar, jist tae make sure there’s nae dipping gaun oan at the till.”

  “Whit aboot yersel?  Will you be aroond?”

  “Oh aye, Ah think he wants me tae make sure there’s plenty ae drink coming up fae the cellar. He’ll still be wheeling and dealing and needing a runner oan the night as well, Ah suppose,” Calum said, swinging a leg oan tae the cart and then stretching his fingers towards his toes.

  Jessie wis starting tae get restless and kept looking roond tae see whit wis happening.

  “Awright, Calum, thanks fur that,” Tony said, lifting the reins and gieing Jessie a wee tap oan the arse tae move her oan up the street.

  By the time they reached the corner ae Grafton Street, they’d sold another seven dozen briquettes.

   “Right, Ladies and gentlemen, this spot will be perfect.  Gaither roond in a semi-circle, facing the hooses o’er there,” Sally Sally said, pointing tae the curved sweep ae the tenements oan Grafton Square.

  The brass band members started tae take their instruments oot ae their cases and set up.

  “Is that no terrible?” Mary said.

  “Aye, imagine the shock he felt when he discovered it hid been pinched?” responded Hannah.

  “It jist goes tae show ye that thieving gits ur nae respecters ae wan’s religion.”

  “Ah mean, trumpets ur a fair price compared tae oor wee tambourines here,” Hannah said, gieing her tambourine, wae its coloured steamers, a wee shake and a rattle.

  “And they lips ae his.”

  “Ah know, whit a waste.”

  “Ah don’t mean that.”

  “Whit aboot them?”

  “Did ye no see the way they wur quivering when he walked through intae the main hall wae his empty case and announced that his good bit ae brass hid gone AWOL in the night?”

  “Aye, it’s a shame, so it is. Ah wis gonnae go o’er and gie him a wee cuddle bit the last time Ah did that wis the day he buried his Marjory and the dirty bugger wis never away fae that door ae mine efter that.”

  “Ladies, less chatter and mair action, if ye don’t mind. That’s right, chaps, o’er here a wee bit,” Sally Sally cooed, shuffling the trumpet section and the quivering-lipped bugler intae the middle, keeping the tuba oot oan the left flank and the oboe section o’er tae the right.

  “It’s jist as well he kept an auld spare wan at hame, so it is,” Mary whispered tae Hannah.

  “Whit, another wummin?”

  “Naw, another bugle.”

  “Right, we’ll hiv the trombone o’er oan the right and the two triangles oan the left followed by…last bit not least…the tambourines.”

  People hid started tae peer oot ae their windaes and set up shoap oan their windae sills, tae see whit wis gaun oan. Aw the weans fae the hooses wur aw running aboot being chased by dugs ae every description, size and colour.

  Captain Bellow stood in front ae the band, white conductor’s stick gripped in his left haun and a bible in the other as Sally Sally hurried tae get intae line, clutching her tambourine.

  “Aye, it’s a fine group ae missionaries we hiv staunin here the day. And mair than a few wee pretty wans at that…” The Captain bellowed, startling the dugs and the weans as aw the female missionaries either jist aboot fainted wae pleasure or cried oot ‘Praise the Lord!’ 

  “...and jist before we start this wee bit ae God’s work here the day, Ah wid jist like tae take this opportunity tae thank Probationary Lieutenant Sally Cross fur her ootstanding organisational skills in putting aw this thegither. Thank ye, Lieutenant,” he said, gieing a glowing Sally Sally a wee bow.

  Sally Sally turned and shyly accepted the clapping and acknowledgement fae her Christian warriors by rushing back oot in front ae them and gieing a wee modest speech.