Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 (49 page)

BOOK: Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2
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  “If that’s okay with you?”

  “Kin Ah read that file ye’ve goat in front ae ye?” he’d asked pleasantly, taking a seat.

  “What?  Oh, er, somehow, I don’t think so.”

  “So, whit’s so special aboot it?”

   “There’s nothing special about it.”

   “So, whit’s wae aw the secrecy then?”

  Her brain hid fought wae her tae avert her eyes fae that look ae his, telling her tae retreat back tae the file sitting in front ae her, that she’d read a hundred times before, o’er the previous two weeks, bit she’d held her gaze steady…jist. 

  “Do not, under any circumstances, allow him to control the situation with those intimidating, menacing eyes, Fanny.  You have to be assertive, and the eye contact will be the first test,” Mr…Hugh…hid emphasised.

  Gucci hid the maist beautiful eyes that she’d ever come across. The only part ae the advice she’s been gied regarding his eyes that hid been missing, and whit the reports furgoat tae mention, wis that they wur mesmerising.  Although she’d been studying him and his pals fae a short distance…getting familiar with their body language…being that close tae him hid been totally different.  Despite whit the reports continually emphasised, he hidnae come across as being the dangerous violent little thug that she knew him tae be.

  “The file just contains reports regarding who you are and what you’ve been up to over the past few years.  Background reports, that kind of stuff,” she’d replied pleasantly.

  “Dae ye think Ah’d be annoyed aboot whit’s been written aboot me in that secret folder that ye’re gripping oan tae?”

  “Er, I don’t know.  Perhaps, although I wouldn’t imagine that you would find much in it that would be interesting.  Legal jargon, that kind of stuff,” she’d replied, involuntarily slackening her grip oan the folder.

  Silence.

  “Tony, what I’m attempting to do is work out a programme that will assist you and your friends to come to terms with your current situation and help you to manage your sentence more positively than what you have been doing so far.”

  Silence.

  “By that, I mean, see if we cannot help you to get more involved...”

  “In obeying rules?”

  “...in what’s going on in the school generally.”

  Silence.

  “So, er, what do you think then?” she’d asked, hoping he widnae detect the desperation in her voice.

  “Aboot whit?”

  “About what I’ve just said?”

  “Hiv ye ever done time?” he’d asked her, throwing her completely aff kilter.

  “Er, what?  What do you mean?”

  “Ye heard me the first time…miss.”

  “Have I ever done time?  Of course I haven’t.”

  “Bit ye want tae help us dae oor time better?”

  “Er, yes.”

  “Whit makes ye think we need yer help?  We’re experts at daeing time, so we ur.”

  “Well, your behaviour towards the staff and other boys leaves a lot to be desired, for example.”

  “Bit, whit’s that goat tae dae wae ye helping us dae oor time better?”

  Silence.

  She’d walked right intae that wan, she remembered cursing tae hersel.  He wisnae being aggressive.  He’d jist been coming oot wae questions as if he wis asking her whit time ae day it wis.  She’d hid a terrible urge tae lean o’er and poke him straight in the eye wae her pencil.

  “Well, as well as being sent away as a punishment, we have a duty to try and reform you and help with your rehabilitation,” she’d replied lamely.

  Silence.

  “I mean, since you’ve arrived in Thistle Park, I cannot find one single good word that has been written about you…and that also applies to your friends along the corridor in the classroom,” she’d said, waving her haun at the wall.

  Silence.

  “Were you aware that there are boys in here that have arrived after some of you who are literally just days away from being liberated or let out early over the next three to six months, not to mention all the home leave that they’ve enjoyed?” 

    Withoot trying, his demeanour hid gied her the distinct impression that he’d awready lost interest in aw the positive aspects ae school life that she’d been pointing oot tae him. He’d hardly said anything fur fifteen minutes, apart fae when he’d chosen tae challenge or correct assumptions oan her part.

  “I can do this for you,” she’d practically pleaded.

  “Whit makes ye think that’s whit we want?”

   “I’ll use my influence with the headmaster to instruct the staff to back off…give you all more space.”

  “We kin speak up fur oorsels.”

  “It wouldn’t cost you much to try this.”

  “How wid you know?”

  “I want to be your friend, get to know you all better.”

  “Naw, ye don’t.”

  “I want to understand you all.”

  “Whit’s that goat tae dae wae us?”

  “Give me a chance to show you what I’m talking about and what I can do for you, Tony.  At least, give it a try.  Give me a month...please?” she’d finally muttered in defeat.

  And then it hid been aw o’er wae.  He’d suddenly stood up, opened the door and walked through, withoot looking back at her or saying cheerio.  Mr Burns hid taken great pleasure in gieing her an ‘Ah telt ye so’ look fae the door, before disappearing efter Gucci.  She’d walked back tae her office feeling totally dejected.  She hidnae been too sure whit tae dae next.  She’d thought ae phoning Mr…Hugh…bit, while she appreciated his wonderful support, she hidnae been sure if she’d hiv been able tae control her disappointment and the last thing he probably needed wis her crying o’er the phone.  She wisnae sure how long she’d sat there, contemplating picking up the phone tae her brother, Benson, wondering if the cub reporter job wis still an option.  It hid been the school bell that hid brought her oot ae her reverie.  She’d heided oot intae the corridor, tae find Mr Burns stomping alang towards her, wae a face like thunder.

  “Ah hope tae hell ye know whit ye’re daeing, Fanny?” he’d scowled.

  “Why?  What’s happened?”

  “That Tally wan, Gucci, his jist gone and telt them that they’ll aw be starting their new jobs first thing oan Monday morning.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

  None ae them goat aff tae a good start…especially Johnboy and Silent.  Oan the Monday, they aw trooped intae the recreation hall.  The wee joiner, Mr Button-heid, took wan look at them and flipped his lid.  It wis clear that they wurnae tae be welcomed wae open erms.

  “Right, you and you, get yer jaickets back oan and come wae me.”

   Johnboy and Silent followed him alang the corridor tae the main reception area tae see Bick the Prick, the deputy heidmaster.

  “Harry, whit’s gaun oan here?  Tell me this is a joke ye’re playing oan me?”

  “Sandy, calm doon.  Whit’s the problem?”

  “Whit’s the problem?  This is the two wee basturts that broke intae ma cadet hut and stole ma cadet uniforms, when they decided tae fuck aff back tae Glesga a couple ae weeks ago.  That’s whit the problem is.”

  “Bit, ye goat them back, aw in wan piece, didn’t ye?”

  “Whit’s that goat tae dae wae anything?  Tell me Ah’m no expected tae hiv anything tae dae wae supervising this pair ae sticky-fingered animals.”

  “Sandy, aw the boys in here ur in fur thieving.  They’re nae different fae anywan else.  This his come fae the tap, so it his.  Ye’ll jist hiv tae accept it…and them.”

  “And another thing…ye’ve also took away ma wee crew who done a bloody sterling job this time last year and replaced them wae a bunch ae bloody wasters.  Ah cannae bloody believe this. This his goat tae be a wind-up, surely?”

  It wisnae often that Johnboy agreed wae any ae the teachers in the place, bit he thought Button-heid hid a point, being upset.  A couple ae weeks earlier, Johnboy and Silent hid managed tae get oot ae the main building, jist efter the teatime heid coont.  They’d managed tae jump intae two ae the big wicker laundry baskets that hid been left at the main door tae be picked up.  Wae Silent in wan and Johnboy in the other, and under the supervision ae Rolled Back Neck, four boys hid lifted each basket and carried them through aw the locked doors.  Efter waiting five minutes, Johnboy and Silent hid heided fur the cadet hut, dressed up in uniforms and marched straight intae Paisley and then alang Paisley Road West.  They’d goat nabbed in Govan, waiting at the traffic lights fur a lorry tae gie them a hudgie intae the toon.  A pair ae bizzies hid offered tae gie them a lift intae the toon centre in their squad car when the boys telt them they’d lost their bus fares.  It hid nearly worked.  The bizzies hid later telt them that they’d known right away that they wurnae real cadets because their ankle gaiters hid been oan their ankles the wrang way roond.  The buckles should’ve been oan the ootside seemingly.

  “Did ye no feel them catching aff wan another when ye wur walking?” PC Plod, ex-Argyles, hid scoffed at them. 

  They hid, bit they hidnae been gonnae admit that tae him.  When the bizzies hid phoned the school tae come and collect them fae Govan Polis Station, the school hidnae been aware that two ae the boys hid done a runner.  The teachers hid turned the school upside doon, searching fur a key, in an attempt tae try and find oot how they’d managed tae get oot ae the main building.

  “Ye’ve nae choice, Sandy.  There’s a reason why ye’ve goat this crowd.  Ah’m sure they’ll be fine.  Jist tell them whit ye need done and don’t take any shite aff ae them.  Ye’ve ma full support,” Bick the Prick telt him.

  It wis a bit tense fur a few days, bit things soon settled doon.  The recreation hall wis oan wan ae the wings ae the U-shaped building.  Above it wis the dorm wings.  There wur eight big sash windaes oan each side ae the room and four windaes at the bottom end, which went fae waist height, straight up tae near the ceiling.  Each windae hid twenty eight panes ae glass in it.  The windaes only opened a couple ae inches as blocks hid been attached tae the runners above the bottom sections ae the windaes and the grooves in the screw heids hid been grinded doon, tae stoap people like Johnboy fae unscrewing them.  They spent that first week humphing wood intae the room and then hammering and screwing the frame ae the stage thegither at the bottom end ae the hall…away fae the snooker table.  The radio wis oan aw day and they sang alang tae aw the hits oan Radio Wan, like ‘Bad Moon Rising,’ ‘Baby Come Back’ and ‘A Little Help Fae Ma Friends.’ It wis definitely better than sleeping wae their heids oan their desks aw day, across in the hut.  The Garngad crowd seemed tae settle in tae their new jobs as well, apart fae wan wee incident where Patsy skelped somewan fae Drumchapel o’er the heid wae a pitchfork.  This wis soon forgotten aboot as he hidnae stuck it in him.  Meanwhile, Tony wis still trying tae find oot whit Johnboy wis up tae.  Before they’d been allocated
their new jobs, Johnboy hid been moaning that he needed tae get oot ae the hut or he’d go mad.  It wid hiv been practically impossible tae escape fae the building unless everywan hid been prepared tae attack the teachers and haud them doon tae allow Johnboy time tae get well clear ae the building.  Wance oot, he’d then hiv needed tae get aff the grounds before finding a way intae the toon undetected.  Johnboy hid known that as long as he wis in the hut, then escape wis a non-starter. 

  “Johnboy, if ye cannae talk tae me, who kin ye talk tae?” Tony hid challenged him oan the morning efter the social worker hid popped her heid roond the door.

  “Ah need ye tae get me oot ae this bloody classroom!” Johnboy hid howled in frustration.

  “How can Ah help ye if ye won’t tell me whit the fuck’s wrang wae ye?”

  “There’s nothing bloody wrang wae me.  Ah jist need ye tae get me oot ae this fucking classroom…now!”

   Efter a month in the stage building game, things at last started tae unfurl. The stage wis looking quite impressive.  The cast fur the show hid taken o’er the boys’ auld classroom in the hut and hid started tae appear o‘er in the efternoons, in dribs and drabs, tae practice and learn where they wur tae staun oan the stage during the concert.  The music wis shite, bit Johnboy and the rest ae them goat tae know aw the words tae the songs as the radio hid tae be turned aff while they practiced.  Sandy Button hid telt them that the concert wis a mix ae famous musical films aw drawn intae the wan spectacular.  Even though they’d sit and pish themsels laughing at the singers, it wisnae long before they wur walking aboot humming ‘Ain’t She Sweet,’ ‘There Is Nothing Like A Dame’ and ‘Nothing Could Be Finer Than Tae Be In Carolina In The Morning.’ 

  The first real inkling that Johnboy’s luck wis aboot tae change started efter breakfast wan Friday morning.  There wis a hush in the dining room as Bick the Prick rattled oot aw the good behaviour ticks and Beanpole stood oan a chair, shifting the pegs fur the lucky wans up the board.  The previous Friday, eyebrows hid been raised when Baby and Patsy collected wan tick each.  Baby hid sat and scowled at everywan within punching distance when his name wis read oot.  Patsy hid been next.  When the name McSwiggan wis shouted oot, none ae the Toonheid or Garngad crowd hid batted an eyelid because they hidnae a clue who the fuck it wis until it hid suddenly dawned oan Patsy that it wis him.

  “That’s me!” he’d turned and hauf shouted at them wae a big grin splashed across that ugly coupon ae his.

  “Bum-boy!” Joe hid muttered.

  “Jealous prick,” Patsy hid retorted swiftly.

   Bit it wis the next week that really set the heather alight though.

  “Kelly, wan peg…nae leave.  McSwiggan, wan peg…nae leave.  Smith, wan peg…nae leave.  O’Hara…two pegs…Saturday morning tae Saturday night leave.”

  Everywan jist sat and gawped at Baby, who looked as if he’d jist been slapped, sitting there blinking wae embarrassment.

  “Baby, ya dirty fucking cocksucker, ye.  How many times did that fat arse ae yours get humped doon in that boiler room tae get that, eh?” Patsy squealed.

  “Ah know, Patsy, and here’s you always saying Ah widnae ever get ma hole because Ah wis a fat basturt, eh?”

  “You’ve goat a fucking cheek, McSwiggan.  Who’s dick hiv you been sucking, ya wee cockroach, ye.  That’s two ticks in two weeks,” Freckles chipped in.

  “Aye, bit at least Ah didnae get fucking hame leave like Mr Michelin o’er there.”

  “Listen, Bucktooth Boy, ye’ve jist goat tae try a wee bit harder, that’s aw,” Baby said tae Patsy, clearly chuffed wae the turn ae events.

“Well done, Baby!” Johnboy said tae him.

  Everywan could tell that Baby wis right chuffed.  He kept telling Patsy aw the things he wis gonnae get up tae when he wis back up in Roystonhill.

  The second trigger fur a change in Johnboy’s situation happened when they wur lying aboot behind the stage, listening tae the shite songs being sung by The Thistle Park Players.  Tony, Silent and Johnboy wur sitting wae their backs against the wall, below wan ae the windae sills.  Joe wis lying, stretched oot in front ae them, wae his heid resting oan his haun, when he brought the subject ae Skull up.

  “Ah wonder whit Mr Magoo wid look like noo,” Joe said tae nowan in particular.

  “Still baldy, ugly and moaning like fuck, wearing that auld Partick Thistle jersey and his Celtic tammy,” Tony said wae a smile.

  “He looks exactly the same as he did when we last saw him.  He hisnae grown or changed wan bit, apart fae the tammy that is.  He lost that in the fire,” Johnboy blurted oot, then cursed himsel under his breath.

  “And how wid ye know that, professor?” Joe asked sarcastically.

  “Because Ah met and spoke tae him the day Ah goat sentenced,” Johnboy replied, blushing.

  The three ae them jist looked at each other and smiled.

  “Ah’m telling youse.  Ah saw and spoke tae him in the cells in Central the day Ah goat sentenced.  Ye said ye wanted tae know whit wis wrang wae me?  Well, that’s whit Ah’ve been haudin back oan,” Johnboy said, turning tae Tony.

  Silence.

  “Johnboy, ye speak a lot ae shite a lot ae the time, bit this takes the biscuit,” Joe retorted.

  “Fuck aff, Joe.  Ah know whit Ah saw.  If ye don’t want tae believe me, so what?  Who the fuck cares whit ye think anyhow?”

  “Johnboy, ur ye seriously sitting there, trying tae tell us that ye spoke tae Skull?” Joe challenged him.

  “Aye.”

  “Ye’re full ae shite.”

  “Fuck you, Joe!”

  “Joe, shut the fuck up.  Right, Johnboy.  Tell us whit happened then,” Tony said.

  “Am Ah, fuck.  He’ll jist make oot Ah’m talking a heap ae shite.”

  “Dae ye blame me?”

  “Joe, shut the fuck up!” Tony growled at Joe, before turning back tae Johnboy.   

  “Oan ye go, Johnboy.”

  Johnboy took a deep breath and launched intae telling them whit hid happened doon in the cells in Central the day he’d been sentenced.  Everything jist burst oot ae that mooth ae his.  The kick aboot wae his socks, sharing his tea and cheese pieces and whit Skull hid said aboot the fire and who done it.  The three ae them hid jist sat, looking at Johnboy in silence, until Johnboy came tae the bit aboot how the fire started and Tiny and Horsey John being involved.

  “Ah cannae believe we’re listening tae aw this shite.  Everywan knows fine well that it wis they fucking bizzies that done the damage,” Joe said dismissively, looking at Tony.

  “Aye, well, you believe whit ye want, Joe,” Johnboy spat.

  “It sounds like some dream, that wan, Johnboy,” Tony said, smiling.

  “Tony, Ah’m fucking telling ye, it wisnae a dream.  Ah wis talking tae him, the way Ah’m bloody-well talking tae youse jist noo.”

  “And ye reckon Skull wis aboot tae say who the other wan wis...in yer dream?”

  “Ah swear oan ma ma’s life.  This wisnae any dream.”

  “Well, whitever it wis, who the fuck’s gonnae believe it?” Tony asked.

  “Well, youse kin fucking believe
me fur a start,” Johnboy retorted.

  “Aye, right, Johnboy,” Joe chipped in.

  “Johnboy, if ye’re saying it happened, fine.  Aw Ah’m saying is, how the fuck wid ye be able tae prove it?  It’s no exactly the strongest evidence Ah’ve heard in a long time, is it?” Tony said, a bit mair gently.

  “Whit aboot ma wet socks then?”

  “Whit aboot them?”

  “Ma socks wur wet and lying flat oan the concrete bed tae dry oot.  Ah know Ah never kicked them intae the toilet bowl.”

  Silence.

  “Ye’ll need tae try harder than that, Jackanory.  Remember, this is coming fae the guy who gets up in the night and goes fur a wee walk when he’s still asleep,” Joe said, laughing.

  “Fuck you, Joe, ya weasely prick.”

    Johnboy could also see that Tony and Silent wur no convinced bit wurnae being as blatantly shitey towards him as Joe wis.

  “Right, whit aboot Flypast then?” Johnboy challenged.

  “Whit aboot him?”

  “How wid Ah know that Skull met wae him efter leaving me that night doon in ma closemooth, eh?”

  “How dae ye know he did?” Joe asked.

  “Because Skull telt me.  He said he bumped intae Flypast when Flypast wis oan the way back fae Sherbet’s, where he’d been buying a couple ae single fags fur his maw and that he went back wae Flypast tae see his new doos.  That’s the reason he wis late in getting back hame…because Flypast telt him the story fae years ago, aboot Skull’s da and the big Horseman Thief Pouter…and that’s why he hid tae sleep in the cabin that night, because his auld man hid locked the door and widnae let him in again,” Johnboy stammered before Joe could butt in again.

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