The Mattress: The Glasgow Chronicles 4 (35 page)

  “Is that whit it’s called?”

  “Yes.  You mean you didn’t know?”

  “When me and Silent goat sentenced tae borstal training, we hid tae wait in the Bar-L until there wis room fur us here.  Ah goat placed oan report fur a bit ae cheek and wis sentenced tae seven days in the digger.  The digger wis full up, so Ah wis put doon in tae the dungeons, under wan ae the main halls, tae a cell that seemingly hidnae been used in o’er a hunner and twenty years.  They words wur scratched intae the damp cell wall that Ah wis cooped up in.”

  “Sir Richard Lovelace was a cavalier during the time of Charles I and the English Civil War.  He was imprisoned and it was whilst he was in prison that he wrote those famous lines.  He is saying that although he may be in prison, those who put him there will not stop him being able to dream and think freely.  It’s a poem about freedom.  Your quote was aptly put.”

  “And Althea?  Wis that his bit ae stuff oan the side then?”

  “From what I can remember, history is not too sure who Althea was.”

  “Bit ye dae get ma point then?”

  “Yes.  I can’t say that I fully appreciate it, but you’ve certainly put it succinctly.  I think I understand.”

  “It’s good tae put a name tae the author.  Efter they slung that arse ae mine doon intae that dungeon, it took me a couple ae days tae realise that it wis there, staring me in the face.  Maist ae the auld, original plaster wis sitting in soggy piles oan the flair roond aboot the walls except fur this wan wee determined patch.  Wance I clocked the faded writing, Ah studied it fur a full day before Ah could work oot whit the lettering wis saying and then it became as clear as a neon sign.  Ah could probably quote it backwards noo,” he said, smiling. “They lines kept me gaun aw week, so they did.”

  “It obviously gave you strength,” The Reverend murmured.

  “Ah’ve goat a wee system fur daeing time doon here, so Ah hiv.  Ah sleep during the day, wae ma erms and legs wrapped roond they hot pipes and ma jumper under ma heid fur a pillow.  Then, when Ah get ma mattress in at night, Ah sit or lie oan it, aw comfy, putting ma world tae right...sort ae like being oan the nightshift.  It works perfectly...at least it dis fur me.  Time flies, and it means they basturts, the screws, cannae dae a thing aboot it.  Ah’ve nae hassles doon here.  It means Ah don’t hiv tae bite oan the barbed hook that they tempt us wae in a dump like this.  They never get inside ma heid, so they don’t.  As long as Ah’ve goat ma brain...and ma mattress, Ah get by jist the thing.”

  “That’s extraordinary.  I honestly mean that.  I have never heard anything like it before,” The Reverend replied, no too sure whit tae make ae whit he’d jist been telt.

  “Aye, well, ye learn something new everyday, eh?” the prisoner said, a wee smile appearing oan his face.

  “So, where am I going wrong then?”

  “Ur ye asking me fur advice?”

  “Put like that, I suppose I am.”

  “Well, ye can start by no delivering rulebooks tae guys in the digger oan behauf ae the screws.  If the screws want tae dish oot rulebooks, let them dae it themsels.  Why should somewan like you want tae dae their jobs fur them.”

  “Oh, I...”

  “And another thing...that chain ye’ve goat hinging doon fae yer trooser pocket?  Whit’s that aw aboot?”

  “Oh, er, I’ve been issued with a set of keys to allow me access to the different parts of the institution.  The chain is to ensure that the keys won’t disappear if I drop them.  It’s a security precaution.  The length of chain allows me to stretch across to unlock doors before putting the keys back into my trouser pocket.”

  “It dis, dis it?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Who else walks aboot wae a chain wae keys hinging aff the end ae it like yours?”

  “Oh, they are issued to my social work colleagues as well.”

  “And?”

  “The prison officers, of course.”

  “Well, tae me and everywan else in here, you and they social workers ur only wan step removed fae wearing a uniform, so youse ur.”

  “But we’re civilians.  As I’ve just said, it allows us access to the inmates.”

  “If ye want tae be a screw, join up.  Why kin the screws no open the doors fur ye?  That’s whit they get paid fur.  As far as maist ae the boys in here ur concerned, youse ur jist screws dressed up as civvies.  In some quarters, that’s worse than being a screw.  Nae wonder nowan wants tae talk tae somewan like yersel.”

  “Well, I...”

  “See when ye turn up at the dining hall door when everywan is getting their chow?”

  “Er, yes.”

  “Well, don’t staun there grinning, trying tae say hello tae anywan who happens tae gie ye a glance.  Ye’re hated, jist as much as the screws ur.  If Ah wis you, Ah’d grab a steel tray and get some grub and go and sit in amongst the boys.  They won’t like it and nowan will talk tae ye…at least, nae tae start wae, bit it’ll show them that ye want tae be in amongst them rather than pitching yer standard up there wae the screws, hinging aboot at the start ae the food chain.”

  “I’m not sure that would be acceptable…to the prison staff.”

  “Furget the screws...they hate ye and aw they social worker pals ae yours mair than the borstal boys hate youse.  They jist see youse as hopeless do-gooders that ur nae tae be trusted and ur pissing them aboot while they’re trying tae dae their job ae locking up scum like me.”

  “You make it all sound so simple.”

  “And another thing...stay away fae they cell doors at night when people ur trying tae read and collect their thoughts as tae whit they’re gonnae dae when they eventually get released.”

  “Do you believe that what you’ve just said, would make me…us…the pastoral team, more acceptable?”

  “Ah believe that it’ll show up some clear water between yersel and the screws in here and maybe, jist maybe, some boy in need might ask ye fur a haun wae a wee problem.  Ye never know…stranger things hiv happened.  Ah mean, somewan wance telt me that a guy walked oan water withoot sinking, so they did,” Taylor replied, smiling.

  “I’m not sure you appreciate my situation.  I have a job to do in here.  I can’t be seen to be flaunting the rules.  I have to tread a path between responding to the needs of the inmates whilst at the same time, work with the staff who can at times, be hostile to my mission.”

  “Aye, well, ye asked me fur ma advice and Ah’ve gied ye it.  Whit ye dae wae it is entirely yer ain business, so it is.”

  The Reverend couldnae remember getting fae the main reception back tae the manse.  He knew he’d driven because his car wis parked in the driveway.  Mrs Cameron, his hoose-keeper, hid asked him if he wis awright when he arrived as she helped him aff wae his hat and scarf.  Efter convincing her that he wis, he’d dashed up tae his study and fallen oan his knees and prayed.  He wisnae quite sure if he’d jist witnessed a sign fae God or whit.  He felt different…lightheided and unsure ae whit might or might no hiv happened.  He’d wanted tae challenge the boy, Taylor…tae tell him he wis speaking rubbish and that he didnae understaun the position that he, a lowly Church ae Scotland minister, wis in.  How could he?  He wis clearly a non-conformist prisoner, a convicted thief, who took satisfaction in flouting the rules and established practices that hid been instigated in the first place fur a purpose...bit deep doon, The Reverend knew he wis in denial.  Taylor hid understood perfectly.  He’d pointed oot the littered debris oan the road tae Damascus in front ae him and he, the Reverend Christopher Marion, wis noo at the crossroads ae his ministry.  Should he walk away...run…or should he pick up the baton that hid been thrown oan the ground in front ae him and take a step forward?  Did he hiv the strength and drive tae shove aside the barriers and march forward purposefully?  Who wis this Johnboy Taylor?  He picked up the telephone and dialled.  The Bishop wid know whit he should dae.

Chapter Forty Four

  Tony didnae look aboot as he pushed open the door that led intae the closemooth.  It wis still light ootside, bit wan ae the flats oan the ground flair hid the light oan jist above the door.  This telt Tony that aw the hooses up the red brick sandstone closemooth wur bought wans.  Corporation close lights wur switched aff automatically by a timer.  It meant that, unless people left their lights oan, ootside ae their doors, the landings wid be in darkness, which wis perfect.  Harper hid jist aboot shat himsel, earlier in the day, when Tony hid telt him he wanted a wee gander at the inside ae Tam Simpson’s flat.

  “Fur Christ’s sake, Tony.  We’ll be seen by everywan and his dug,” Harper hid wailed, panic written aw o’er that coupon ae his.  “He might be there.  Ah’ve only ever been up there oan a Friday.  This is Monday.  How dae ye know he won’t be lying there, pumping fuck oot ae that social worker slut?”

  “Harper, look, ye’re wae us and ye’re safe.  Aw Ah need ye tae dae is tae dae as ye’re telt.  We know whit we’re daeing, so we dae,” Tony hid said tae him as soothingly as he could, trying tae contain Harper’s panic.

  “Ah’m sorry, Tony…honest tae God, Ah…Ah cannae cope wae this, so Ah cannae.”

  “Harper, ye kin so.  Simon will go up and knock oan the door first, tae make sure that there’s nowan in.  Trust me...us.  We’ll keep ye safe, so we will.”

  Tony placed his left fit oan the first step, looking aboot as he went.  It wis a nice wee fancy closemooth.  Fae the flag-staned flair up, it hid tiles, up tae a fancy green tiled border, at aboot shoulder height, which stretched aw the way up the stairs in front ae him.  Simon hid gone up earlier and listened ootside Tam’s door.  He’d slowly opened the letterbox and hid listened fur a full minute.  Efter he’d come back tae the car, which wis parked further up the hill oan Hillend Road, he’d lied tae Harper by telling him that he’d rattled oan the door fur a full two minutes and that nowan wis in.  Efter Harper hid been threatened wae a sore face if he didnae get his arse in gear, Simon hid escorted Harper intae the close, tae make sure that he wis daeing whit he wis telt.  Simon hid arrived back seconds later, tae report that there hid been nae screams and that Harper hidnae been nabbed by Tam Simpson while breaking intae his pad.  Simon hid also mentioned that he’d heard a couple ae guys talking in the hoose opposite Tam’s, so they’d need tae watch oot fur the noise.  Tony hid then sauntered towards the closemooth, wrapped up in a Crombie coat and tammy tae keep the wind and hail aff ae him, before disappearing intae the closemooth. 

  When he reached the tap ae the stairs, he goat a bit ae a fright when Tam’s door suddenly swung open, bit it wis only Harper’s frightened face.

  “Right, Ah’m aff back tae the car, Tony,” he whispered frightfully.

  “Naw, ye’re no.  Ah need ye tae gie me a haun here.  It’ll only take a few minutes wae the two ae us.  And keep the noise doon, there’s people in the hoose across the landing,” Tony whispered, stepping through the door, pushing Harper back intae the lobby.

  “Ah know, Ah heard them.”

   Tony stoapped and let his eyes get used tae the light coming through the bedroom windae at the front intae the lobby.  He pushed open the door that opened oan tae the kitchen-come-sitting room.  It wis aw tastefully decked oot.

  “Right, listen, Harper.  Ah don’t want ye touching anything, and Ah mean anything.  This place his tae look exactly the same as when Tam left it.  Hiv ye goat that?”

  “Er, Aye, bit…Ah lifted this,” Harper confessed, haudin up a Rolex watch.

  “Right, ya bampot, put that back exactly where ye found it, and Ah mean exactly.  It his tae be in the same position as ye found it.  If Ah catch ye touching or lifting anything again, Ah’m gonnae let Snappy and Ben break yer fingers aff.  Hiv ye goat that?”

  “Aye, sorry, Tony.  Auld habits die hard.”

  Tony let oot a sigh.  Thank Christ he’d insisted that Harper should stay tae gie him a haun.  It could’ve shafted them aw up the arse if that stupid prick hid left wae the watch in his pocket.

  “Right, Harper, here ye go.  Take the end ae this measuring tape and lay it oan the flair this side ae the ootside landing door,” he whispered.

  “Whit?  Whit the hell ur ye wanting tae measure the flair fur?” Harper asked him.

  “Jist dae as ye’re telt,” Tony hissed back, as Harper walked tae the door, drawing oot the tape fae the roll in Tony’s haun.

  Tony walked back tae where Harper wis staunin and turned tae face up the lobby and scribbled doon the measurements.  He pursed his lips, thinking, as he stood looking fae the front door towards the bathroom door facing them.  Tae the left ae that wis the door intae the kitchen-come-sitting room.  A wee table wae a wooden lamp, wae a cream shade oan it, sat jammed in tae the right-haun corner at the far end, between the bathroom and bedroom doors.  Efter measuring the width ae the front door and the width ae the lobby itsel, Tony scribbled doon the measurements and walked towards the bathroom, stoapping in front ae the lamp and the table.  He stepped back, before drapping doon oan tae his hauns and knees tae peer under the table, feeling the legs ae it and the skirting boards.  He wis pleased tae see that the skirtings wur the auld high wans.  He started tae measure the height fae the flair tae the tap ae the table, and then fae the flair up tae the tap ae the shade ae the lamp.  He stood back and stared at the lamp and table before walking back tae the front door.

  “How tall ur ye, Harper?”

  “Five eleven.”

  “Right, staun here, facing up the lobby,” Tony said, pulling him forward fae the ootside door.

  Tony bent doon and took another measurement.  This time, using the same measurements as the width ae the door, he laid the tape oan the carpet and measured oot fae the landing door intae the lobby.  He reached behind and pulled Harper’s leg, motioning him to shuffle backwards, slowly towards him.

  “Stoap!  Right, that’ll dae ye,” he whispered, measuring fae the front door tae the back ae Harper’s heels, which wur clamped thegither.  He then subtracted four inches aff the measurements.

  “Right, jist wan mair and we’ll be oan oor way.  Don’t move a muscle.”

  “Tony, whit the fuck ur ye up tae?”

   Tony measured fae the flair until he wis exactly twelve inches above Harper’s heid and wrote doon that measurement.

  “Ye’re no five eleven, ye’re five ten, ya eejit, ye.  Right, let’s go,” he said, opening the door and stepping through, followed by Harper.

  Jist as Harper wis aboot tae turn the lock using the wee spike he hid in his haun, tae lock the door, the bottom door in the closemooth opened, throwing light alang the bottom hallway and up tae the mezzanine flair below them.  Harper looked at Tony wae a horrified, panicked expression oan that face ae his as Tony jumped forward.

  “Wait!” Tony moothed silently, before disappearing back intae the hoose and scurrying up the lobby.

  Tony pulled the kitchen door shut, turned back roond and scarpered back the way he’d come.

   Harper hid the door shut and locked silently by the time Tony hid placed his fit oan the first step ae the stair leading upwards.  He quickly followed Tony up oan tae the next mezzanine landing, arriving there jist as the clump ae two feet arrived oan Tam Simpson’s level.  Tony pulled Harper towards him oan his left haun side, at the same time as pushing Harpers arse doon oan tae the next set ae stairs in wan flowing move.  While he wis daeing this, he withdrew the same gun that Snappy Johnston hid pressed against Harper’s foreheid, fae the waistband ae his troosers.  Harper knew fine well that the look ae fear that hid appeared oan his coupon when he’d first heard the door ae the closemooth opening, must’ve been nothing compared tae the terrified look it must hiv oan it noo.  Tony Gucci, wae the fading light ae the wintry efternoon sky shining in through the frosted glass ae the landing windae behind him, acting as an eerie backdrop, hid been turned intae a dark shadow, like something oot ae the ‘Jist because the lady loves...’ Cadbury’s Milk Tray advert that hid been oan the telly o’er the Christmas period.

   The dark shadow wae the haungun clasped in the ootstretched haun, pointing doon towards the stairwell, caused Harper tae turn as white as the whitewashed stairs that he’d been dumped oan a few seconds earlier.  He suddenly looked doon, trying tae comprehend where the expanding wet puddle hid come fae underneath his good Wrangler corduroys that he’d blagged oot ae the hoose up in Colston.  Harper could clearly hear the heavy breathing and the rustling ae material fae the landing below them and could picture Tam Simpson gaun through his jaicket pockets, looking fur his key.  He heard the rasp ae the key gaun intae the lock and the door swing open, then close again wae a reassuring click.

  “Whit noo?” Harper croaked, in a quavering voice, fighting no tae faint where he wis sitting

  “Let’s go,” Tony replied cheerfully, smiling at Harper, as he slipped the gun back intae the waistband ae his troosers.