Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 (11 page)

BOOK: Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2
11.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

Chapter Twelve

  It wis only when Johnboy heard the baldy nut wae the glasses, who wis sitting oan the bench, saying something aboot fourteen days detention and the bizzy he wis hauncuffed tae gieing him a tug tae move, that he realised something hid happened.  He’d been gied a heel ae a stale loaf fur his breakfast and he’d been trying tae dislodge a wee bit ae it wae his tongue when the sentence hid been passed.  Tae make matters worse, he’d clocked his ma heiding in through the courtroom door and gieing him a wave.  There wis nae chance ae him waving back.  His eyes zoomed in the opposite direction.  She’d her ‘Ah’m gonnae kill ye stone deid when Ah get ye hame’ look oan that coupon ae hers.  He wis glad the auld crater hid jailed him insteid ae setting him loose tae go doon the road wae Baby Jane Hudson.  He also wanted tae find oot if The Grove wis anything like Skull hid said it wis, although he’d need tae watch that arse ae his.  According tae Skull, there wis mair than a few ae the teachers always oan the prowl, ready tae perch oan some wee innocent’s arse like his.  He’d also tae watch oot fur a big prick who wis intae his slapping.

  Johnboy lay listening tae the constant slamming ae cell doors, wummin screaming ‘Ah want ma weans,’ guys shouting ‘fucking shut up, Ah’m trying tae kip here,’ and turnkeys, jangling their keys, whistling tunes that didnae sound very musical, as they paraded up and doon the corridor ootside his cell
door.

  “Dae ye want me tae take Black Boab wae me fae number seven, John?”

  “It’s up tae yersel, Frank.  He could hing oan here till later, if ye want.”

  “Ah’ve hid Lanarkshire Hoose oan the phone.  They’ve goat a load ae young wans needing shifted oot tae The Grove tae make room fur the efternoon sessions starting.”

“Aye, okay.  Gie’s a minute till Ah clean aw this pish and vomit oot ae this cell.”

  Johnboy lay back oan the concrete plinth that wis supposed tae be a bed, trying tae picture whit this Black Boab wan looked like.  Big, black hair, either black as two in the morning or he hidnae hid a bath fur a month, he thought.  Although the racket, whistling and screams wur interfering wae his thinking juices, he reckoned he’d Black Boab doon tae a T by the time his door clanged open.

  “You…Black Boab…get yer frame aff ae that bed and get yer arse o’er here.”

  “Who?  Me?  Ah think it’s cell number seven ye’re looking fur,” Johnboy replied, thinking that the stupid twat must’ve opened the wrang cell.

  “Who the fuck dae ye think ye’re talking tae, ya manky wee toe-rag.  Get o’er here till Ah put these cuffs oan ye.  And none ae yer cheek or ye’ll get they pea-sized baws ae yers booted inside oot.”

  Friendly Frank then proceeded tae drag him alang the corridor and doon the stairs, keeping a grip ae the cuffs wae his haun between Johnboy’s shackled wrists.  Wance they reached the bottom, he haunded Johnboy o’er tae a wee fat bizzy who wis staunin at the back door ae a big wagon that hid been backed right up tae the cop-shoap door.  Opposite Fatty, another even fatter wan wae a twitch oan the right haun side ae his face that caused his eye tae wink repeatedly, stood blocking the wee gap between Johnboy and freedom.  Johnboy wis gonnae gie him a wee friendly wink back, bit decided no tae, seeing the scowl that wis being beamed in his direction.  Fatty number wan…the wan withoot the twitch…unhooked Johnboy’s cuffs and telt him tae get in and tae shut the fuck up, even though he hidnae uttered a sound. Johnboy wis wondering whit the reaction wid be if he asked tae be taken back intae the Marine tae dae a pee, when the door slammed shut so hard that it wis a wonder that it didnae fly aff ae its hinges.  They hid Johnboy sitting away up at the front, while Fatty number wan sat doon at the back door, continually gieing him a fat beady-eyed look.  Johnboy decided no tae ask where they wur gaun.

  When they finally reached their destination, he felt the wagon reverse, stoap and then the door wis slung open.  There wur aboot hauf a dozen bizzies staunin in an open doorway as the wagon again began tae reverse, moving towards the uniforms.

“Righty ho!” wan ae them shouted, slapping the side ae the wagon.

  It stoapped, wae its open doors hard up against the walls either side ae the entrance.  Johnboy wisnae sure whit wis happening, so he jist sat back, looking alang the oblong tube that wis the inside ae the big paddy wagon and intae the corridor ae the building.  He could hear the same sounds as where he’d jist came fae, bit only much louder.  Fatty number wan hid goat oot and hid lit up a fag oan the steps leading intae the corridor.  He looked a bit mair nervous than he’d been earlier when Johnboy first came across him.  Johnboy thought that there must be a murderer or a chib merchant heiding their way.  Efter a few minutes, a bizzy led a boy oot tae Fatty number wan, who unhooked him and nodded towards the wooden benches oan either side ae Johnboy.  The fifth boy tae appear wis wan ae the uglies fae Roystonhill.   It wis Baby Huey…aw six feet ae pure blubber…wae hauns the size ae mallets and his t-shirt hauf way up his belly.  He reminded Johnboy ae Winnie The Pooh.  He’d a bizzy oan each side ae him, haudin him by his erms.

  “Couldnae get the cuffs tae fit the baby whale,” wan ae the cheeky basturts said tae Fatty number wan. 

  Johnboy tried tae catch Baby Huey’s eye, bit his piggy eyes jist looked through Johnboy, so Johnboy sat back and decided tae make himsel invisible up in his wee corner.  The next two tae arrive made that arse ae Johnboy’s start tae twitch.  First tae appear wis wan ae Baby Huey’s ugly pals fae the Garngad.  His name wis Tottie and he looked gallus as fuck and even managed tae swagger before he sat doon.  Johnboy’s heart sank when another ugly wee shitehoose called Patsy came next.  He’d big buck teeth and the nastiness jist oozed oot ae him.  Johnboy sat watching him oot ae the corner ae his eye, thinking that he looked and sounded like the rattlesnake that he wis.  Skull, Tony and Joe hid introduced Johnboy tae the three Uglies when they’d went across tae the Toonheid baths, the day before Skull hid goat himsel frizzled.  Tony thought they wur right wee pussycats, bit Johnboy could remember them knocking fuck oot ae everywan in the queue oan a Saturday efternoon ootside The Carlton picture hoose and taking people’s sweeties aff ae them before the doors opened.  The wagon wis soon full tae the gunnels.

  “Right, listen up.  Ye’re aw heiding fur The Grove.  There will be a polis car following behind us.  That means ye’ve aw tae sit there and shut the fuck up or there will be big trouble,” Fatty Number Wan snarled, putting oan the meanest face he could muster.

  Efter heaving that fat uniformed arse up wae a grunt oan tae his seat, the wagon slowly moved forward three feet so the door could be slammed shut.  Johnboy couldnae help feeling sorry fur they poor hinges as the wagon turned right wance they left the building proper.

  “Ingram Street,” Tottie moothed tae the baby whale.

  When they turned left, Johnboy looked o’er at Tottie.

  “The bottom ae Montrose Street,” he moothed again.

  Noo that Johnboy knew where he wis, he felt better.  Sure enough, the wagon stoapped at the junction ae George Street a few seconds later.  God knows why he did whit he did next, bit he couldnae stoap himsel.

  “George Street junction,” he moothed, a bit too loudly, copying Tottie, joining in wae their wee game.

  “Shurrup and wheesht!” the fat bizzy shouted fae doon at the door, while Patsy, the buck-toothed rattlesnake, gied Johnboy a threatening glare.

  Johnboy decided tae butt oot and play the game oan his lonesome.  When they crossed o’er George Street, the driver kept in low gear as he tackled the big hill.  The fat bizzy seemed tae be sinking and everywan else at the tap ae the wagon goat higher as the engine roared and puffed up the hill.  Johnboy hid been keeping an eye oan Baby Huey, Tottie and the goofy rattlesnake.  There wis definitely something gaun oan, he telt himsel.  Either that or the three ae them hid something in their eyes aw at the same time.  There it wis again, he noticed.  A wee twitch here, a tiny nod there, two eyes opening wide and a wee shake ae the napper.  They knew exactly whit each other wur saying, even though they started tae look like the twitchy-faced fat-arsed plod in the uniform who’d been winking and twitching at Johnboy when he first goat in tae the wagon.  And then aw hell broke loose.  The engine ae the wagon sounded as if it wis jist aboot tae gie up the ghost when Baby Huey made the first move.  It wis as if he’d turned intae Bob Hayes himsel, gaun by the speed he travelled doon the centre ae the wagon, before they two fat sandshoe-covered feet ae his demolished the door, alang wae the poor hinges Johnboy hid felt sorry fur earlier.  Johnboy jist managed a quick glimpse ae Baby Huey sitting oan tap ae the door in the middle ae the hill before the wagon emptied efter him.  It wis obvious that the driver hid cottoned oan that something wis up because he stalled the engine and couldnae stoap the wagon fae rolling backward o’er the noo solitary door before it came tae a crunching stoap against the side ae a car ootside the side door ae the Strathclyde University building.  Johnboy jist sat there looking at the fat bizzy, who wis staring back up the inside ae the wagon at him in pure disbelief, eyes blinking like a set ae traffic lights oot ae Dr Who that hid jist gone loopy.  Johnboy wanted tae say ‘Aye, Ah know, bit don’t worry, Ah’m still here,’ bit he didnae think that’s whit the fat-arsed plod wanted tae hear at that particular moment in time.

  “Fur fuck’s sake, Alex, whit the fucking hell happened?” howled the twitchy-eyed driver efter appearing oan the scene wance everywan hid fucked aff.

  “Aw, fur Christ’s sake, Toby, Ah cannae cope wae this any mair.  Ah need tae get oot ae here and get masel a job withoot aw this shite.”

  “Where the fuck ur the prisoners?”  Twitchy howled, looking aboot.

  “Ah’m fucked if Ah know.  Ah’m jist so glad tae still be here talking tae ye.  It wis that big fat-arsed wan that started them aw aff.”

  By this time, a crowd ae students, aw decked oot in their stripy scarfs, hid gathered tae see whit aw the commotion wis aboot and wur staunin staring in at Johnboy in the wagon.  Johnboy noticed wan ae the Martins, famous fur screwing the nursery at the bottom ae Johnboy’s street six times in six months before being caught, staunin in amongst them.  Johnboy gied him a wee wave, bit he ignored Johnboy as he’d his haun dipped intae the bag ae wan ae the students, lifting oot her purse and walking away pretty pronto.  Johnboy wis sure he’d noticed him though.

  “Er, excuse me, hen?” Twitchy said tae the lassie whose purse wis noo heiding up the steep pavement towards Cathedral Street. “Kin ye go and phone nine, nine, nine fur me and report that thirteen prisoners hiv gone missing oot ae the back ae a polis wagon up oan Montrose Street.”

  “Er, aye, okay, officer.  Ah’m oan ma way.”

  “Whit the hell’s he still daeing here?” Twitchy asked, nodding towards Johnboy, still sitting in his seat.

  “God knows.  Probably shat himsel wae fright at aw the commotion,” the fat John Wayne look-a-like, who wis looking fur a new job said, as the baith ae them stared up the wagon at him.

  Johnboy wanted tae tell them that there wis nae way he wis missing oot oan a stint in The Grove.  Other than watching oot fur that arse ae his fae the arse-bandit teachers, he wanted tae find oot whit aw the excitement wis aboot, efter listening tae Skull, Joe and Tony speaking aboot the place.

  “Whit ur we gonnae dae noo?  Will we wait fur the cavalry tae arrive?” Arbuckle asked.

  “Naw, gie’s a haun tae lift the door in tae the back ae the wagon.  We better get this wan oot tae The Grove before he starts greeting fur his maw.”

  A hauf an hour later, the wagon wance again reversed up tae a set ae doors.  Wance they stoapped, the main door opened and a big skinny dreep wae a tartan bow-tie, tweed jaicket and ginger curly hair came oot wae a big smile oan that face ae his, that soon changed tae a look ae horror.

  “Whit the fuck?”

  “Aye, don’t ask,” the fat bizzy, who wis looking fur a new job, said wae a dismissive wave ae his erm.

  “Is this it?” Tartan Tie asked, peering at the back ae the wagon, looking at where the hinges hid been.

  “This is it.”

  “It says here that Ah’ve tae expect fourteen.  Ah kin only see wan.”

  “Aye, well, don’t be too disappointed.  Furget the numbers and think ae the quality that ye’re getting.  This wan will gie youse nae trouble.  Aw his pals fucked aff and left him behind.  Ah thought he wis gonnae pish himsel, he wis that feart.”

  Johnboy wanted tae tell him tae fuck aff and that he wis dealing wae a master criminal here, bit decided tae haud his wheesht till he’d goat the lay ae the land. Even though he hidnae met the bow-tie geezer before, he knew exactly who he wis. The description supplied by Skull hid been spot oan.  Oot ae the two brothers that worked in The Grove, it wis the wan wae the ginger hair and tartan bow-tie that wis the notorious arse-bandit.

  “Right, Bambi, get yer arse oot ae there and intae the reception here,” Tartan Tie snarled, clearly disappointed that he wisnae getting a bunch ae uglies fae the Garngad and Roystonhill.

   Johnboy wis starting tae feel that maybe he should’ve fucked aff wae the rest ae them as he made his way intae the clean, shiny reception area.  He looked aboot while the fat wan fae the van goat Tartan Tie tae sign fur him.  As well as the reception desk oan his right, there wur three sets ae double doors in the reception area and a set ae stairs that heided upstairs somewhere.  The doors immediately tae his right wur the only wans that wur open and he wis able tae look alang a corridor that came tae an end wae the same kind ae double doors at the far end.  In the corridor, aboot hauf way alang, there wis a couple ae chairs wae a boy sitting oan his lonesome oan wan ae them.  Coming towards Johnboy, another boy wis pulling and pushing a broom haundle, wae whit looked like a metal brick oan the end ae
it.  Underneath the brick wis a cloth.  The boy wis walking slowly towards Johnboy, pushing and pulling, wae the brick making a clicking and clacking sound as it moved back and forth, polishing the awready shiny linoleum.

Other books

Mi último suspiro by Luis Buñuel
Maris by Hill, Grace Livingston;
Lighthouse Island by Paulette Jiles
Chasing Harry Winston by Lauren Weisberger
Waiting for the Electricity by Christina Nichol
Sunk by Renea Porter
Closet Confidential by Maffini, Mary Jane
Light in August by William Faulkner
Angel Falling by Audrey Carlan