Parly Road: The Glasgow Chronicles 1 (26 page)

  “Ah wid jist like tae say that although it wis ma idea, ma good Christian sisters, Morna, Anita and Kathleen, who’ve came aw the way fae Tain, up there in the wilds ae the Highlands, hiv been a really big support in setting this up the day.  Since first coming tae lodge wae masel and that fine man ae mine’s, Lieutenant Cross, they’ve been an inspiration. If it wisnae fur their love ae the Lord and being able tae accept guidance in good grace, Ah don’t think we’d be in a position…so a wee church mouse his secretly informed me…tae announce that we’re wan ae the front runners, tipped tae win the nineteen sixty five ‘Feed And Clothe The Needy African Children’ shield,” she squealed excitedly.

  That wis enough fur the band members tae aw take the opportunity tae clap and sling in a few wee ‘Thank you, Lords’ as Sally Sally took another few wee bows before returning tae her place in the band.

  “There she goes…Probationary Lieutenant Cross…as modest as ever. Well, if she’s too shy tae tell everywan aboot her good work, we’ll tell the world aboot it oan her behauf. We’re proud tae hiv ye as a sister in the good work ae the Lord. Noo, before we start oor wee missionary session here the day, Ah wid jist like tae ask ye aw tae bow yer heids in prayer,” Captain Bellow bellowed. “Lord, we might no always get it right aw ae the time, and maybe we don’t always get it right maist ae the time, bit who needs tae go tae Africa or other foreign lands tae dae a wee bit ae missionary work, when ye see the lovely and beautiful gentle folk who’ve recently come amongst us o’er the past year tae eighteen months. They might no be able tae see ye in person, bit Ah’m sure, wae oor help, yer presence here the day will bring strength and joy tae everywan in this here community. Us soldiers ae Christ ur here oan yer behauf…tae share yer love, yer affection and, mair importantly, tae show the people looking doon upon us that there’s only wan true God, and through oor lead, help them tae recognise the joy that could be theirs if they wid only open their eyes and hearts and come and join us as we march forward towards thy kingdom and thy glory…Amen.”

  “Amen.”

  “Praise the Lord.”

  “Jesus is Good.”

  “Right, ladies and gentlemen, efter three, we’ll jump straight intae ‘Onward Christian Soldiers.’ Wan, two, three...”

  Depending oan who ye spoke tae efter that eventful sunny efternoon up in Grafton Square, probably determined the answer ye goat as tae whose dug kicked the party aff fur real. When Johnboy hid later lugged intae the arguements between his ma and some ae her pals, who’d been present at the time, nowan seemed tae be able tae agree whose dug hid lead the charge.  Betty, fae next door, who didnae own a mutt so didnae hiv an axe tae grind, swore that it hid been Elvis, Tam the Bam’s labrador. Whichever wan it wis…the presence ae the Christian warriors, wae their musical instruments in full flow, hid issued a challenge tae aw the mangy dugs in the area tae show whit they wur made ae. If ye wur tae think ae aw they films where people ur stuck oot in the wilds, in five feet ae snow and it’s getting dark and suddenly, the wolves let rip, then ye’d get a general idea ae whit the bedlam sounded like. There hid only been aboot six or seven dugs lurking aboot in the square, as wis usual in the heat, at that time ae the day, when the band kicked aff wae ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’.  By the time they wur marching aff tae war, the competition hid kicked aff fur real, wae fifteen bad boys, ae aw shapes, sizes and colours, accepting the challenge ae defending their Territory. While some ae the mair undisciplined wans wur wandering aboot confused, hauf howling and hauf yelping, the real maestros…aboot eight or nine ae them…wur sitting behind the brass section in a semi-circle, gieing it laldy, big style. Probably the reason that Elvis goat tagged as the ringleader and the wan who started them aw aff, wis because he wis sitting facing the semi-circle ae howling mutts in the same way as Captain Bellow wis stauning in front ae the howling warriors ae Christ.

  As soon as the band opened up and the dugs goat tore in, Parvais’s wee sister, Delisha, and aw her wee pals jist froze oan the spot and stood there wae their eyes bulging oot ae their heids and their mooths hinging open in disbelief.

  Aw Elvis’s hound-dug pals in the semi-circle hid their noses pointing straight up tae the heavens, letting loose a racket that the Hounds ae the Baskervilles combined wae the Hunner-and-wan Dalmatians wid’ve been proud ae.

  “Jist ignore the racket, ladies and gentlemen.  The devil’s at work here. Let’s show these dumb dark disciples who kin make the finest noise,” Captain Bellow bellowed, as the band upped a gear and blew, shaked, sang and twanged their instruments louder, in an attempt tae droon oot the racket coming fae the mangy pack.

  Jessie and the boys hid jist entered Grafton Street at the McAslin Street end while the band wis setting up in the square.  Efter leaving Calum and arriving at the corner ae Grafton Street, the sales hid dried up.  People who did hiv money, didnae hiv coins in their purses and aw the boys hid left wur ten bob and wan pound notes.

  “Ur we gonnae be able tae shift these, Tony?” Joe hid asked Tony again, as Johnboy and Skull looked up at aw the windaes fur customers.

  “Ah’ve telt youse, it’s jist slow because it’s Tuesday and people ur skint.”

  “Aye, bit we’ll need tae get change as well as get Jessie back fur six o’clock.”

  “Aye, Ah know.”

  Parvais, who wis oan his way hame fae Sherbet’s hid caught up wae them.

  “Hello boys. What are you doing?” Parvais hid asked them.

  “How’re ye daeing, Parvais? We’re selling briquettes. Ye don’t want tae buy any, dae ye?” Skull hid asked him.

  “What’s briquettes?”

  “Insteid ae lumps ae coal, these ur coal bricks. Normally they cost wan and ninepence bit because it’s Tuesday and everywan is skint, we’re selling them fur wan and a tanner a dozen.”

  “So, they’re the same as coal?”

  “Johnboy wis jist saying that a lot ae the wummin prefer them tae bags ae coal because they last longer. Isn’t that right, Johnboy?”

  “Aye, although ye’d need tae make sure ye hiv sticks under them tae get them tae light. Wance they catch, a couple will dae ye aw night.”

  “Really? And how many do you still have to sell?”

  “Probably aboot fifty or sixty dozen or so.”

  “But you would be able to get more, if required?”

  Fae lying sprawled oan tap ae the briquettes oan the cart, the boys hid aw bolted up and looked at Parvais, open-moothed. Even Jessie hid turned her heid tae see whit the excitement wis aw aboot.

  “You see, a lot of the ladies in my family, as well as our neighbours, are at home all day. Some of the fathers work long hours and some have gone back to Pakistan to visit relatives. Unfortunately, the mothers cannot allow strange men in to the house to deliver coal, therefore, this is a problem for our families. It seems to me…and forgive me, I do not mean to insult you…but as you are not men, but children, delivering these coal briquettes as you call them, would not be such a problem for the mothers.”

  When Parvais hid finished speaking, there hid been a stunned silence fur aboot five seconds and then the boys hid burst oot laughing and started tae dance oan tap ae the briquettes, aw o’er the back ae the cart. Parvais hid jist stood there wae a smile oan his coupon, thinking that they wur as mad as hatters.

  “Whit dae ye want us tae dae, Parvais?”

  “Well, first of all, it is very important that you show the ladies and mothers respect. And by this, you cannot swear, spit, wipe your nose on your sleeve or pass wind in their presence. This would be very disrespectful and would mean that they cannot take coal briquettes from you. Other than that, I believe you will be able to sell them your bricks at the price you have quoted me.”

  “Joe, you take Jessie’s reins and Ah’ll nip o’er intae the yard and get us some change fae oor stash. There’s plenty ae change, lying daeing nothing, in that dosh we goat fae Horsey John and Tiny when we sold them the coo,” Tony hid said.

  “Ye’ll need tae watch oot fur the workmen, Tony. Heid intae the yard fae the North Frederick Street end. That way, they won’t clock ye,” Johnboy hid advised.

  “Aye, okay, that sounds fair enough. Joe, take Jessie up tae the square and Ah’ll catch up wae youse in a couple ae minutes.”

  “This is bloody brilliant, so it is,” Skull shouted o’er the racket, as they sat oan the back ae the cart, pishing themsels laughing at the spectacle in front ae them.  When ‘Oh Come All Ye Faithful’ finished, Elvis and aw his pals quietened doon fur a minute, tae hiv a wee breather, bit the band wisnae messing aboot.

  “‘Will yer Anchor Hold’, efter three please…wan, two and three...” bawled Bellow.

  That wis it…the gauntlet wis thrown doon again, never tae be lifted till the last wan wis left staunin. Elvis and aw the dugs jist went fur it. The wans that hid been wandering aboot ran o’er tae staun in amongst the wans that wur sitting in the semi-circle. There must’ve been aboot sixty windaes looking doon oan tae the square and every single wan ae them hid people hinging oot ae them in fits ae laughter. It wis like wan big happy party. Everywan wis hooting and pointing.  Even the dugs looked as if they wur enjoying themsels. Parvais’s mothers and neighbours wur aw shouting at each other across the windae sills. Johnboy wisnae sure whit they wur saying bit, by the sound ae the laughter, it wis clear they wur getting intae the swing ae things. Parvais joined the boys and asked if it wis no a bit early fur them tae be celebrating Diwali. Like aw good things, it hid tae end sooner than people wid’ve liked though.

  The first dampener, as far as the band wur concerned, wis when two ae the dugs started shagging each other in between the conductor and the trombone player. The rest ae the band members tried tae ignore it until Sally Sally dashed oot ae the line and started scudding the dugs oan their nappers wae her good tambourine. This should’ve done the trick bit unfortunately when the dugs tried tae fuck aff, it became obvious that they wur stuck tae each other. The band wur professional though, and they didnae miss a beat...until Skull decided tae get in oan the act, that is. He stood up, pulled oot the bugle and started gieing it big grunting farty sounds that echoed aw o’er the square. Johnboy wisnae sure whit exactly happened next as everything started tae happen at wance.  If people thought the dugs wur loud before, it wis nothing compared tae whit happened when Skull finally goat the hang ae getting maximum noise oot ae his bugle.  As he went fur it, big style, Elvis and aw his fifty seven variety pals saw this as a further challenge oan their Territory. They seemed tae get a second wind and upped the howling stakes and droont oot the band aw thegither. The sound fae the band jist dribbled tae a complete stoap, apart fae Hannah, who wis staunin there, eyes squeezed shut, looking heavenwards wae determination, whacking fuck oot ae that tambourine ae hers fur dear life.

  Suddenly, wan ae the band members shot oot ae the group, heiding towards Jessie and the cart, shouting, “Haw baldy, that’s ma bugle, ya wee manky thieving basturt, ye.”

  Skull jumped aff the cart and hot-footed it up the nearest close wae the bugle in his right haun, followed by the holy warrior in hot pursuit.

  Meanwhile, Sally Sally returned tae scud the two sex fiends who wur still helplessly tangled up, stuck tae each other, hoping this wid separate them, while the weans aw started tae rifle through the instrument cases in search ae toys. Wan wee bare-arsed four year auld, wae a bundle ae his maw’s good washing at his feet, kept tugging at the conductor’s left leg.

  “If ye’re no the ragman, when will he be here then, Mister?”

  Sally Sally eventually spoilt everywan’s fun when she ran tae the front ae the band, erms waving and shouted, “Right, everywan, let’s call it a day and pack up. We’ll come back when there’s no so many distractions…and that applies tae you as well, Hannah, hen.”   

Chapter Thirty

  “Whit time did ye say they’d be here, Kirsty?” The Big Man asked, admiring the Rolex that he’d goat fae Charlie Chip…Scotland’s answer tae Jimmy Tarbuck…wan night recently efter Charlie hid turned up at The Carlton Club following a sell-oot show at the Pavilion. No only hid he goat the Rolex, bit he’d goat the entire door takings, which Charlie wis carrying aboot in a shoe box. Shaun maintained it hid set a club record. Exactly forty three minutes efter arriving, Charlie No-Laughs hid been forced tae borrow, wae interest, the price ae a taxi fare back hame tae Newton Mearns. Charlie certainly hidnae been that funny when they’d slung him in the back ae a taxi that night, back hame tae that big blonde wife ae his, The Big Man remembered, wae a fond smile.

  “Aboot ten.”

  “And everything’s fine wae Florence Nightingale?”

  “If she turns up.”

  “So, whit’s that supposed tae mean?”

  “It means, if she turns up. Ah hid tae promise her the earth.”

  “As in?”

  “As in it’s gonnae cost ye, fur a change.”

  “Aye, well, we’ll soon see aboot that.”

  “Pat, these ur ma two wee brothers who’re turning up this morning. They’ve asked me tae represent them in the negotiations.”

  “Whit negotiations?”

  “Sarah May his also asked me tae represent her.”

  “Kirsty, whit the fuck ur ye oan aboot? There’s a standard price fur these things nooadays.”

  “Which is whit?”

  “The group will get three nicker fur the night. That’s fur two wan-hour sets wae a five minute pish break and if, and only if, they’re no bad, Ah might gie them a wee bottle ae Sweetheart stout tae wash doon the applause at the end ae their second encore.”

  “So, ye’ll be in fur yer first heart attack this morning then?”

  “Kirsty, hen, ye’ve done great getting them alang here, especially that mad pie-flinger ae a nurse, bit jist leave everything else tae me, eh? Aw, c’moan noo, gonnae no dae that?”

  “Whit?”

  “Gie me that look. Don’t ye worry, Ah’ll make sure that wee broon envelope his a wee bonus in it at the end ae the week.”

  “Really, Pat? Aw, that’s lovely, so it is. Ah cannae wait. Thanks a lot!” she scowled, disappearing intae the store.

  “Aw Kirsty, c’moan noo, ye kin tell Uncle Pat.  Whit hiv Ah done noo?”

  “Naw, naw, everything sounds fine and dandy. You jist go aheid. Ah’ve done ma wee bit tae help ye oot. Jist gie me a shout anytime,” she shouted, as Pat winced at the sound ae things being thrown aboot in the store.

  “Ach, ye’re a right wee stoater, so ye ur,” The Big Man said, settling back and shaking oot the pages ae his Racing News before turning the page.

  Kirsty arrived back at her stool.   She sat staring at him fur a minute, thinking aboot whit he’d jist said. She wis gonnae hiv tae play this wan carefully. It hidnae been easy getting Sarah May and the boys tae turn up this morning.

  “Country and Western?” Gareth hid laughed. “We play The Beatles and The Stones. We’ve been up aw night learning tae play The Stones’s ‘Satisfaction,’ pitch perfect, so we hiv.”

  “It’s a wan-aff night.”

  “And ye think we could jist turn up and play ‘Where’s Ma Razor, Honey, Ah Want Tae Slit Ma Wrists Again’ and that’s that, dae ye?”

  “It cannae be that hard.”

  “It’s no, bit it’s shite.”

  “The money’s good...cash in haun.”

  “Naw, furget it, and anyway, we don’t know any ae that cowpoke stuff.”

  “Ye kin learn.”

  “When ur ye talking aboot?”

  “A week oan Saturday.”

  “Where?”

  “Will ye dae it?”

  “We’ve hivnae goat a singer or bass player.”

  “If Ah get ye a singer and a bass player, will ye dae it?”

  “Naw, cause we don’t know any ae that shite.”

  “Ye kin learn.  Ye’ve goat ten days.”

  “Who’s the singer?”

  “Will ye dae it?”

  “Who’s the singer?”

  “Sarah May Todd.”

  “Sarah May? Whit?  She’s agreed tae join ma band?” Gareth hid asked, looking o’er tae Blair who’d done an imaginary drum roll before hitting his invisible cymbals wae his drum sticks.

“Will ye dae it?”

“Naw.”

  “Aw, piss aff, Gareth. The money’s good.”

  “How much?”

  “Three pounds.”

  Gareth hid looked o’er at Blair who’d hesitated, before daeing another drum roll bit hid missed the cymbal this time and drapped the stick oan tae the sticky carpet that covered their bedroom flair.

  “Ah know ye won’t believe me, bit Ah meant tae dae that,” Blair hid said, smiling sheepishly.

  “So, whit’s it tae be, Gareth?”

  “Naw.”

  “Fine, wait tae everywan hears that ye’ve turned doon three pound a heid fur wan night’s work.”

  “Each?” they’d baith blurted oot.

  “Aye, whit did ye think Ah wis talking aboot?”

  “Christ, we’re no playing in front ae the Queen, ur we?” Blair hid asked, picking up the stick and gieing it a wipe oan his sticky blanket.

  “Er, close.”

  “How close?” Gareth hid asked.

  “Pat Molloy’s maw’s anniversary.”

  “The Big Man?  Ye want us tae play fur him?”

  “Aye.”

  “Where?”

  “Ma work.”

  “Ye want us tae play in The McAslin Bar?”

  “Kin we wear suits ae armour?” Blair hid chipped in, jist in case anywan hid furgoatten he wis there.

  “Look, furget it. Ah know somewan else who’ll dae it. Ah jist wanted tae gie youse the first shout.”

  “Look, Kirsty, we’d love tae help ye oot. The money wid be great and Ah bet The Who disnae get that kind ae money, bit we know fuck aw aboot Country and Western. Ah couldnae gie ye wan song.”

  “Then learn some.”

  “How?”

  “Why don’t ye baith nip doon tae Paddy’s Market and get some ae they auld records and listen tae them. They’re bloody gieing them away doon there.”

  Gareth hid looked o’er at Blair who’d done yet another drum roll before hitting the cymbals this time.

  “We’ll check it oot.”

  “Well, ye better hurry cause he wants tae meet ye the morra at ten.”

  “Night?”

  “Morning.”

  “Right, Blair, ya
lazy basturt, ye, get yer troosers aff that flair and oan tae yer arse.  We’re aff doon tae Paddy’s Market.”

  “Kirsty! Kirsty! Kin ye get that, hen?” The Big Man shouted, gate-crashing her thoughts.

  She shook her heid and blinked, trying tae remember where she wis.  The Big Man wis sitting looking o’er his Racing News at her, wae a puzzled, irritated frown oan his coupon.  She could hear Gareth nattering away, twenty tae the dozen, and she thought she heard Sarah May laughing. When she opened the door, she wis glad tae see Gareth, Blair and Sarah May staunin in the sunlight. They hid big smiles oan their faces. She jist aboot keeled o’er when her eyes focused and she saw whit the boys wur wearing though.

  “Ur youse pair trying tae take the pish?”

  “Who?  Us?” Gareth asked, aw innocently.

  “Never mind…come in.  He’s waiting oan ye. Remember, leave the money side ae things tae me. And Gareth, the less ye say, the mair chance ye’ve goat ae getting the gig, as well as getting oot ae here withoot a sore face.”

  “Hellorerr boys...and girl. Come in, come in…plap yer arses doon oan they seats and Kirsty’ll get youse a wee drink. Whit’ll ye hiv?”

  “Nothing fur me, Kirsty,” Sarah May said.

  “Two large nips and two pints ae heavy fur us,” said Gareth, trying tae admire himsel in the tobacco-stained mirror behind the optics oan the bar.

  “And that’ll be nothing fur youse as well,” Kirsty said, gieing him a dirty look as they went and sat doon.

  Sarah May pulled up a stool and sat, leaning backwards wae her elbows oan the bar, facing them.

  “Well, Ah must admit, boys, Ah didnae expect two cowboys tae turn up the day,” The Big Man said, admiring the two boys sitting there wae cowboy hats oan their heids.

  “Howdy!” Blair said, wae a wave ae his haun, avoiding Kirsty’s stare, bit smiling o’er at Sarah May, who wis sitting there, clearly enjoying hersel.

  “They picked them up doon at Paddy’s Market,” Sarah informed Kirsty.

  “So, ye know why ye’re here. Ma name’s Pat and it’s ma maw and da’s fortieth anniversary a week oan Saturday. Before we start though, Ah’ve awready hid the pleasure ae meeting Sarah May o’er there…bless her…bit whit’s yer names?”

  “Ah’m Gareth.”

  “And Ah’m Blair.”

  “Naw, naw, no yer stage names, boys...yer real names?”

  “That is oor real names,” Blair retorted, indignantly.

  “Fur Christ’s sake, Kirsty.  Whit the hell wis yer da oan when he came up wae they tags, eh?” he said, looking o’er at her, jist in case the boys wur taking the pish oot ae him.

“Ah’ve goat a feeling he’s impressed, so far,” Gareth murmured tae Blair oot ae the side ae his gub.

  “Aye, it’s the cowpoke ootfits,” Blair whispered back.

  “Okay, sorry, boys, Ah didnae mean tae be disrespectful tae youse. Whitever ye dae, jist don’t introduce yersels by yer first names oan the night or Ah’ll hiv every priest in the Toonheid battering doon ma door fur front row tickets.”

  “Ach, don’t ye worry aboot us, Mr Molloy, we’re professionals. Wance yer maw and da and aw their pals hear us crooning and yodelling like a pair ae randy chickens, we could be called Pinky and Perky and they still widnae gie a horse’s shit whit we’re called.”

  “Aye,” said Blair, daeing an imaginary drum roll and a crash ae a cymbal tae impress.

  “Aye, well, it’s yer repertoire that Ah’m far mair interested in.  Ah’m wanting tae hear a good bit ae painful crooning coming aff ae that stage oan the night.”

  “Oor repa whit?”

  “Sarah May?” he asked, eyes rolling tae the ceiling.

  “Oor song list.”

  “Oh, right, aye…sorry…goat ye.  Well, we thought we’d kick aff wae ‘Get An Ugly Girl Tae Marry Ye’ by The Coasters.”

  “Oh, that sounds good…carry oan,” The Big Man said nodding, clearly impressed.

  Before Gareth could come back wae another classic, Sarah stirred oan her stool and said, “Or...‘Will Yer Lawyer Talk Tae God’ by Kitty Wells?”

  “Oh, Ah’m no sure aboot that wan,” The Big Man demurred doubtfully.

  “Well, how aboot ‘Mental Cruelty’ by Buck Owens and Rose Maddox?” she asked hopefully.

  “Whit else hiv youse goat, boys?” he asked, ignoring Sarah May.

  “‘How Come Yer Dog Disnae Bite Nobody Bit Me?’ by Mel Tullis,” Gareth said, looking o’er at Sarah May wae a ‘beat that wan, if ye kin, gringolita’ smug look oan his coupon.

  “‘Here Comes Ma Body Back Tae Me’ by Dottie Wax?” Sarah May slung in before The Big Man could respond tae Gareth.

  “Oh, Ah’m no sure aboot singing aboot deid bodies wae aw the auld wans in the company. Boys?”

  “‘The Shotgun Boogie’ by Tennessee Ernie Ford?”

  “That’s a good wan,” Blair chipped in, in support ae Gareth.

  “Or, how aboot ‘Ah’ll Never Be Free’ by Kay Star and Tennessee Ernie Ford? Same band,” Sarah May slipped in, enjoying the confusion oan Blair’s face.

  “‘Mamma Sang A Song’ by Bill Anderson? Guaranteed tae get a tear, that wan…nae doubt aboot it,” Gareth said, shifting his seat closer tae the bar, so he could see the whites ae Sarah May’s eyes.

  “‘Mamma Get A Hammer, There’s A Fly Oan Daddy’s Heid’ by Lou Morte?” came the swift reply.

  “Aye, that sounds a good wan. Ah’d love tae hear that. That’ll go doon well wae aw the wummin folk,” Kirsty chipped in, laughing in support ae Sarah May.

  “Aye, we could then go straight intae ‘The Root Ae Aw Evil Is A Man’ by Jean Shepherd and then maybe ‘Ah Wish Ah Wis A Single Girl Again’
by The Maddox Brothers, and lastly bit by no means least ‘Don’t Sell Daddy Any Mair Whisky’
by Joe Val. That’s bound tae get an applause fae aw the wummin, eh?” Sarah May said, winking at Kirsty.

  “It’s no a funeral we’re playing at, Sarah May. Hiv ye no goat any happy wans that ur a bit mair respectful and sympathetic towards the poor men folk in the bar, who’ll hiv tae sit there listening tae that voice ae yours aw night?” Gareth asked her, as Blair and The Big Man nodded their heids in agreement.

  “Aye, how aboot ‘Act Like A Married Man’ or ‘A Dear John Letter’ tae finish up wae?” Sarah shot back, as Kirsty and her laughed at the expressions oan the faces in front ae them.

  “Ah knew she’d be bloody well trouble wae a capital T,” Gareth growled under his Stetson.

  “Ach, away and dry they eyes ae yours wae a wet bandana,” Sarah May retorted, as her and Kirsty went intae another fit ae giggles.