Parly Road: The Glasgow Chronicles 1 (34 page)

Chapter Forty One

  “Ur youse in?” Johnboy shouted, as he climbed up the ladder intae the cabin.

  “Johnboy,
ya
wee harry-hoofter, ye. Ye’ve been let loose then?” Joe shouted.

  “Aye, thank Christ.”

  “Aw, jeez, that maw ae yours. Ah wish Ah hid a maw like that. She’s fucking mental, so she is,” Skull beamed.

  “Aye, bit kin ye see whit Ah hiv tae put up wae?” Johnboy replied, chuffed.

  “She sounded like a bloody lawyer. And the faces ae that pair ae bampots staunin at the back wur a picture. Fucking pure dead brilliant, so she wis.”

  “So, whit hiv youse been up tae then?”

  “We wur aw kept in fur a couple ae days till the heat died doon...apart fae Skull.”

  “Aye, Ah goat rid ae that doo and wee hen and traded them in fur these wee pair ae beauties. Whit dae ye think?”

  “Whit ur they?”

  “Whit dae ye mean, whit ur they? This is a wee Chequered doo and this is a lovely wee Storie hen.”

  “Is that no whit ye hid before?”

  “Aye, the only difference is, these ur oors and the other wans wur theirs.”

  “Oh, right,” Johnboy said, wondering whit he wis oan aboot.

  Suddenly there wis a loud thud oan the cabin and they aw froze. The tap ae the ladder, which wis sticking jist inside the doorway, started tae creak. Somewan wis climbing up. Johnboy looked o’er tae Tony as Tony silently picked up a pickaxe haundle, that Johnboy didnae know they hid, fae under the carpeted cot.  A hairy well-known heid appeared through the door, wae a big smiling face stuck tae it.

  “Ye’re in?” Flypast shouted.

  “Flypast, ya basturt, ye. Ah jist aboot shat masel,” Skull yelped.

  “Whit, again? Ye’re gonnae hiv tae get they troosers changed wan ae these days or they’re gonnae disintegrate when ye’re least wanting them tae. Hello boys…kin Ah come in?” Flypast asked, looking the place up and doon.

  “Aye, how ur ye daeing, Flypast?” Tony asked.

  “No bad, no bad.”

  “Hiv ye been in here before?”

  “Never hid the mis-pleasure until noo.”

  “Ye mean tae say ye wur never invited roond fur a wee swally by the ugly brothers? Ah’m surprised at that.”

  “Aye, no a bad wee set up youse hiv goat here, boys. Ah’d heard that this place wis noo under new management.”

  “Dae ye want me tae show ye aroond, Flypast?” Skull asked, aw excited at their first real doo man visitor.

  “Naw, Naw, Ah kin see ye’ve goat a nice wee…or should Ah say, big set up here. Very good.”

  “So, whit ur ye up tae?” Tony asked, sussing oot that this wis maybe something mair than jist a wee social visit.

  “Oh, aye, ma ma mentioned that ye wur looking fur us,” Johnboy said.

  “We’re no selling any ae oor doos jist yet. The breeding programme his jist started. That pair hiv been treading non stoap since Ah goat them oan Monday.”

  “Treading?”

  “He means humping, Johnboy,” Joe said, smiling.

  “Oh, right.”

  “Aye, youse are a hard wee crew tae get a haud ae,” Flypast said, looking aboot.

  “Only if ye don’t know where tae find us.”

  “Well, Ah spoke tae Calum The Runner twice, plus Ah went roond and left word wae Johnboy’s maw.”

  “She only telt me the day we goat lifted.  So, whit wur ye efter then?”

  “Ah’d heard youse wur taking o’er this place and Ah wanted tae make sure youse wur aware ae aw the facts.”

  “Facts?” they aw chorused at wance.

  “Aye, like wur youse aware that they’re gonnae build a big motorway straight through the Toonheid.”

  “So?”

  “So, youse ur sitting exactly where they’re aboot tae start the bloody thing aff.”

  Silence.

  “It’s no aw that bad though. They say it maybe won’t be fur another year tae eighteen months. Mind you, Ah suppose they’ll hiv tae clear the place first, so it might be sooner.”

  The strange thing aboot Tony, Joe and Skull wis that, although ye’d think that when they wur really, really mad aboot something, they’d stamp, scream and shout, they usually did the exact opposite, Johnboy thought tae himsel, looking at his pals.  Shouting or moaning like fuck wis their way ae telling the world that they wur happy. It wis when they’d go aw quiet that ye knew that things wur really serious.

  Nowan said a word. Everywan looked as if they wur lost in their ain thoughts.  Flypast sat doon and took oot his tin and started tae roll a fag. Even the shagging pair ae doos hid taken a break and wur noo staring doon at them in silence.

  “So, how much did ye buy it fur?”

  “We still owe them a score oan the second and final payment,” Tony eventually said.

  Flypast let oot a wee quiet whistle and lit up his roll-up. They sat in silence, watching the smoke trail aff ae the end ae it, spiraling upwards.

  “When’s it due?”

  “This Saturday.”

  Silence.

  Flypast took another draw ae the roll-up and then let oot a perfectly formed lazy smoke ring that floated gently away fae him, followed aboot three seconds later by a bazooka wan that hit the first wan deid centre at a hunner miles an hour, obliterating it. The amazing thing wis that the second wan then slowed doon and turned intae the lazy fucker that it’d wiped oot. Johnboy couldnae keep it in...he burst oot laughing, quickly followed by Skull, Tony and Joe.

  “If ye think that’s impressive, ye should see whit that wee maw ae mine kin dae wae her left ear and her right nostril using two lit woodbines. It’s a real party stoapper, especially efter she’s gargled doon hauf a bottle ae Lanny. The last time she tried it, when she wis blootered, she set her wig oan fire. When she sussed oot there wis a fire, she flung the wig towards the sink, bit missed and it landed oan her fancy deluxe plastic Christmas tree and set that oan fire as well. It widnae hiv been so bad if there wis a party oan the go, bit she wis sitting there oan her ain, the silly auld coo,” he said drily, taking another puff ae his roll-up.

  Skull ran o’er tae the door and started pishing oot ae it, haudin himsel up oan the door frame tae stoap himsel fae falling oot as Johnboy and Tony aboot pished themsels fae where they wur sitting.   Joe wis sitting oan the flair, hammering his heels up and doon like the clappers as Flypast sat looking at them wae an amused expression oan his coupon. He then took another deep drag ae his roll-up and shot oot two wee miniature smoke rings fae each corner ae his gub and then shot oot a two bob bit sized wan, followed by a hauf croon sized wan.

  “Daddy Bear and Mammy Bear went fur a walk wae Teddy Bear and Mary Bear,” he mimicked, as they aw cracked up again, watching the four smoke rings bobbing across the cabin as if they wur away oot fur a walk.

  “Aye, it’s no funny, is it? Whit ur youse gonnae dae noo then?” he finally asked.

  “Kin we no jist ask fur oor money back?” Johnboy suggested, before adding, “Or, at least tell them they kin keep the cabin and we’ll furget aboot the other twenty?”

  “Or tell them tae fuck aff because the thing’s only worth twenty five bob and we’re no paying the rest,” Skull groaned, looking sick as a parrot.

  “Whit dae ye think yersel, Flypast?” Tony asked, as the four ae them looked at him fur advice.

  “If Ah wis you, Ah’d get ma hauns oan the score ye awready owe them, haun it o’er and learn fae it.”

  Silence.

  “Flypast, if Ah wis tae offer ye fifty top notch champion doos, including nice wee breeding hens, could ye shift them at short notice?”

  Aw heids wur noo turned tae Tony.

  “As in fifty...fifty doos?”

  “As in fifty doos and hens and maybe a few chicks slung in.”

Aw heids noo swivelled back tae Flypast, who shot oot a wobbly smoke ring that wis too nervous tae dance and never even goat a titter fae the rest ae them who wur sitting there wondering whit the fuck wis gaun oan.

“Like, fifty real doos and hens?”

  “Aye.”

“When?”

“Saturday, at the latest.”

Silence.

  “How much?” Flypast asked.

  “Forty.”

  “That’s retail. Ye kin get right good stoaters fur between ten and fifteen bob each oot ae Paddy’s doon in the Saltmarket.”

  “Whit’s retail?” Johnboy asked.

  “The price ye pay o’er the coonter in the shoap.”

  “Ye’ll no get doos fur ten tae fifteen bob like the wans Ah’m talking aboot,” Tony murmured.

  Silence.

  “Ye’re making me nervous.”

  “Ah’m making masel nervous.”

  “If they even get a whiff, ye’re aw deid,” Flypast said, looking o’er at Skull, who wis staunin there picking his nose, wondering whit the fuck they wur oan aboot.

  It then hit Johnboy like a stiletto-heeled shoe oan the back ae that napper ae his.

  “The Murphys loft!” he yelped, his voice sounding like Brer Rabbit, wae a branch ae a tree sticking oot ae that arsehole ae his.

  “Wheesht!” Flypast shouted in a screeched whisper, shooting o’er tae the door and sticking his heid oot through the beads tae make sure nowan wis lugging in, before nipping back and sitting doon oan that arse ae his. “Fur Christ’s sake, Johnboy, ur ye wanting tae get us aw killed or whit?”

  “Ah knew it. Ah knew youse wid come roond tae ma idea, sooner or later...and no before time,” Skull said, aw excited, nose-picking well furgoatten aboot.

  “Whit dae ye think, Joe?” Tony asked, four sets ae eyes oan him.

  “Kin ye shift that amount ae doos o’er the next few days aw at wance, Flypast?” Joe asked him.

  “Aye, Ah think so, if youse kin get them tae me, bang oan a pre-arranged time.”

  “It wid need tae be cash up front.”

  “The guy Ah’m thinking ae wid manage that. Cash oan delivery.”

  “Ach, well, in that case, Ah don’t see any problems, apart fae being turned intae dug meat if we get caught,” Joe said wae a big grin.

  “Fucking bampots won’t know whit’s hit them,” Skull whooped, as they aw laughed nervously.

  “Er, dae Ah no get a say?”

  “Whit fur? It wis your idea in the first place, Johnboy,” Tony said, wae a big grin stuck tae his coupon.

  “Tony, wis it fuck. Ah came up wae it first,” Skull claimed defiantly.

  “Aye, right...sorry, Skull,” Tony said, grabbing Skull’s Celtic tammy aff ae his heid and slinging it oot the door.

  “Tony, ya grease-ball Atalian basturt, ye,” he shouted, disappearing efter it.

  “Right, this is Tuesday. Ye’ll need tae let me know whit the score is by Thursday
at the latest…in the morning. And oan that happy note, Ah’m aff tae get ma wee maw a packet ae curlers and kirbys. Her boyfriend’s coming roond the night.”

  “Aye, see ye, Flypast.”

Chapter Forty Two

  “How’s The Rat Pack coming oan wae their set list?”

  “Eh?”

  “Aw, sorry, Kirsty. Ah furgoat, Frank, Dean and Sammy hiv hid tae cancel, so Ah’ve hid tae fork oot a wee bit extra fur a better replacement.”

  “Ur ye trying tae be sarcastic?”

  “Too bloody true, Ah am.”

  “Well, shut that arse ae yours and keep the flies in. Ah telt ye, ye won’t be disappointed, unless...”

  “Unless whit?”

  “Naw, it’s nothing.”

  “C’moan, spit it oot.”

  “It’s nothing, honest. Ah wis jist thinking oot loud, that’s aw.”

  “Kirsty, it’s Tuesday and the soiree’s oan Saturday. Whit the fuck is the matter?”

  “It’s nothing, honest.”

  “Is that pair ae Jessie brothers ae yours messing me or you aboot?”

  “Naw, naw.”

  “The pie flinger then?”

  “Naw, naw, Sarah’s fine tae.”

  “So whit?”

  “Will ye promise no tae get upset or angry?”

  “Of course Ah’ll get bloody upset and angry.”

  “Stoap shouting!”

  “Ah’m no shouting!” he shouted.

  “Okay?”

  “Ah’m ready.”

  “Fur whit?”

  “Fur ye tae tell me whit ma problem is.”

  “Whit problem?”

  “The ‘don’t get upset and angry’ problem.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Aye, that.”

  “There’s nae problem.”

  “Whit?”

  “Ah wis only pulling yer leg.”

  “Fur Christ’s sake. Ye mean everything’s okay fur Saturday?”

  “It is fae ma end.”

  “Ur ye fucking nuts?”

  “Ur ye fucking sarcastic noo?”

  “The first chance Ah get, Ah’m getting shot ae ye…you mark ma words.”

  “Ah’ll no haud ma breath jist yet then.”

  “Hellorerr Pat.  Hiv ye goat ma list?” Calum announced cheerily, slinging his leg up oan tae the bar and stretching the fingers ae baith his hauns doon tae his toes. “Wan two, wan two, wan two and three...”

  “Fucking hell, Ah don’t know aboot you, Kirsty, bit fae where Ah’m sitting, that disnae only look painful, bit bloody disgusting.”

  “Wan two, wan two, wan two and three,” Calum went oan, hivving replaced his right leg wae his left.

  “Ah like a man that likes tae keep himsel fit.”

  “That’s nothing, Kirsty. Check this wan oot,” Calum said, leaning back tae put his hauns oan the tap ae a table before slinging baith his heels up oan tae the bar and proceeding tae dae reverse press-ups. “Wan, two, wan, two, wan, two, three.”

  “Calum, Ah don’t want tae be cheeky, bit Ah kin see right up the inside leg ae they shorts ae yers. Did ye wipe that arse ae yers properly efter ye hid yer breakfast this morning or is the inside ae they running kecks ye’re wearing meant tae hiv two big broon stripes running doon the inside ae them?”

  “Aw, fur Christ’s sake, Kirsty. Look whit ye’ve made me dae noo!” Calum howled, crashing tae the flair.

  “Ur ye awright, Calum?” The Big Man asked, helping him tae his feet.

  “Aye, and fur yer information, they’re Adidas, so they ur.”

  “Whit is?”

  “Ma running shorts.”

  “So, they’re meant tae hiv stripes then?”

  “Aw, Kirsty!” Calum whined, looking o’er at The Big Man, pleading wae his eyes fur him tae butt in.

  “Look, don’t ye listen tae Snow White sitting o’er there, Calum, son. Ah’ve been at the sharp end ae her sarcastic remarks masel this morning. We’re aw victims if yer shadow passes through the front door in here. C’moan and plap yer arse doon o’er here, away fae her.”

  “So, hiv ye goat ma list fur the day?”

  “Aye, Ah’ll jist gie it the wance o’er, jist tae make sure that it’s aw there. Right, a hunner and twenty hot mince pies fae the City Bakeries, tae be delivered free ae charge at seven o’clock…check. Twenty five plain loaves…check. Ten pound ae peas…check. Four pound ae Echo margarine…check.”

  “So, it’ll be salubrious Saturday during the break then?”

“Kirsty, Ah don’t gie a fuck if she’s Sandie Shaw’s sister, Ah’m no paying oot any mair dosh oan shite singers Ah hivnae even heard ae. Where wis Ah noo? Oh, aye, the anniversary cake. Mind and make sure Duggie Dough Baws spells the names right this time. The last cake he sent roond here wis fur ma sister’s wedding. He wrote oan it ‘Tae Donna and The Big Prick, Congratulations,’ insteid ae ‘Tae Donna and The Big Pick, Congratulations.’  Big Pick’s family nearly caused a riot when they clocked it. They thought Ah’d something tae dae wae it.”

  “Naw! So, whit happened tae him fur that?” Calum asked.

  “Who? Duggie Dough Baws? He wid’ve goat aff wae it if he hidnae spelt everything else oan the cake right, the thick basturt. He wis walking aboot wae a special frame under his troosers fur ages tae stoap his flattened, fag-burned dough baws coming in contact wae the tap ae his thighs. His missus telt Donna that he’d tae watch Coronation Street staunin up fur a month.”

“Aye, Ah heard he gied up smoking efter that.  Every time he saw somebody light up a fag, he pished himsel,” Kirsty chipped in. “Bloody sin that, so it wis.”

  “Aye, well, seeing as Ah wis the injured party in aw that, Ah don’t feel so guilty. It jist goes tae show ye, though, that in business, ye hiv tae be up-front and accept the responsibility that comes wae it.”

  “So, stubbing fags oot oan some poor baker’s baws is okay then?” Kirsty asked, no being able tae contain hersel.

  “Naw, bit mixing business, or in his case, cake mix, wae pleasure that didnae happen tae be funny might jist be okay as long as ye don’t get caught oot. So, where wis Ah again, before Ah wis rudely interrupted by the bakers’ union rep o’er there? Aye, fifty fairy cakes, fifty tea cakes and twenty snowbaws and Ah need everything delivered fur Saturday morning, apart fae the pies. While ye’re at it, nip up tae the sawmills o’er in Baird Street and tell Ronnie The Cat that Ah’ll need two big bags ae fresh clean sawdust first thing as well.  Tell him it his tae be fresh cut stuff. Ah don’t want anything that’s been near diesel.  Wae the amount ae auld yins in the bar oan the night, Ah better get the flair well prepared. The flair wis swimming o’er in the auld wans corner efter Donna’s wedding wae aw the excitement that wis gaun oan. Hiv ye goat that, Calum?”

  “Aye, Pat.”

  “Right, aff ye go son.”

  “Right, see youse later. Bye Kirsty,” Calum shouted, power walking towards the door at a steady hunner mile an hour.

  “Oh, and Calum?”

  “Aye, Pat?”

  “Ye kin still see they fancy Adidas stripes through the arse ae they shorts ae yours.”

  “Ach, ye’re something else, Pat, so ye ur.  Ye don’t think Ah’m gonnae fall fur that wan again, dae ye?  Ye’re jist as bad as that Kirsty wan,” Calum said laughing, as he disappeared through the swing doors.