The Silver Arrow (27 page)

  Silence.

  “Okay, Ah’ll dae it, bit this better no end up in court or in The Glesga Echo or ma da will kill me,” she eventually agreed, sighing.

  “Good.  That whit Ah wanted tae hear.  Ah’ve awready made an appointment fur eleven o’clock the morra morning fur ye wae Graham Portoy.  Ye’ll need tae phone in sick tae yer work as ye’ll need tae spend a bit ae time writing doon yer statement before Ah run ye doon tae his office in Bath Street.  Noo, shut the fuck up and get o’er here” he said, laughing, as her pillow bounced aff ae that face ae his again.

Chapter Thirty Six

  Senga opened her eyes and listened.  Nothing.  She glanced at the clock that wis sitting oan her wee bedside cabinet withoot lifting her heid aff ae the pillow.  The illuminating hauns said quarter tae two.  She regretted looking.  She’d noo start tae worry whether she’d manage tae get back tae sleep.  She’d deliberately bought a clock that didnae hiv a loud tick oan it, as every time she wis scared ae sleeping in oan a morning, her brain zoomed in oan the ticking and made it sound like Big Ben.  She turned o’er tae face the windae wall, pulling her pillow closer under her neck tae gie it mair support, as she felt hersel drift aff.  She suddenly bolted upright, gieing the clock a quick glance.  It showed ten tae two.  She felt the hairs oan the back ae her neck staunin oan end.  She sat and listened, mair intently this time, trying tae control the sound ae her uneven breathing.  She loved living in the city, particularly near the toon centre.  Even in the middle ae the night, there wis always that constant rumbling thrum that ye only heard in a city.  Even though her curtains wur shut, her eyes wur getting used tae the darkness as the shapes ae her dressing table and wardrobe started tae metamorphose intae solid objects.  She slid her legs and feet sideways oot ae bed, covering her mooth as she yawned.  She sat there in the darkness, contemplating whether she should get up and hiv a mug ae Ovaltine or try tae get back tae sleep, when she heard the sound again.  This time there wisnae any doubt.  It sounded like scratching, coming fae the hallway.  Lizzie wid be fuming wae her.  Efter the moose that hid been terrorising them hid been caught, Senga hid thrown oot the traps.  Although they wur nurses, the baith ae them hid still doubled up intae a fit ae dried, choking spasms, threatening tae throw up at the sight ae the poor wee thing caught in the moosetrap.  The trap hid caught it oan the bridge ae its nose jist below its eyes, practically halving it in two.  Lizzie hid thrown a tea towel o’er it and used that tae pick up the trap, wae the poor wee moose still attached tae it, before throwing everything oot ae the bathroom windae.  The baith ae them hid then gone intae fits ae hysterical giggling at the moose murder crime they’d jist committed.  Two hours later, Senga hid nipped doon tae the back court tae pick the poor thing up and hid slung it intae wan ae the midgie bins.  Luckily fur her, the trap must’ve goat caught in the material ae the tea cloth, as it hid still been attached tae it when she’d goat rid ae the evidence. 

  She suddenly looked across at her bedroom door again.  Hid she jist heard whispering voices?  She shook here heid, swishing the hair away fae her eyes wae her fingers.  Hid she been imagining it?  Lizzie hid jist started back oan the nightshift.  Paul, Rory’s ex-hoosemate lodger, who Lizzie wis dating, usually only stayed o’er at the weekends.  She stood up and crept across tae her bedroom door and listened intently.  Nothing.  She quietly turned the haundle and opened the door slowly, feeling the warm breeze fae the rest ae the flat sweep against her face as the familiar sound ae the fridge kicking-in and humming away tae itsel reached her ears.  She opened the door wider, her heart pounding as she slipped intae the wide lobby.  Lizzie’s bedroom door wis shut, as wis the bathroom door, while the kitchen wan wis wide open.  The brightness fae the streetlight ootside lit up the kitchen and she could make oot the table, chairs and kitchen units fae where she wis staunin.  Some ae the light also reached as far as the lobby, so she didnae need tae switch the light oan.  She noticed the living room door wis slightly ajar.  She couldnae remember if she’d shut it o’er efter watching the News At Ten before heiding aff tae her bed.  She stood listening, cursing her heart fur pounding aff ae her collarbone, convincing hersel that if there wis anywan in the flat, they’d hear it.  Whit if there wis somewan in the flat?  She automatically looked across at the door tae the ootside landing.  Wae it being dark at that end, she couldnae make oot if it wis shut tight or slightly ajar.  She wis desperately in need ae a pee.  She slowly tiptoed across the lobby towards the living room door, straining her eyes tae see if the ootside landing door wis open or no.  By the time she reached the living room door, the landing door hid disappeared oot ae sight.  She took a deep breath quietly, and slowly peered roond the door, hauf expecting somewan tae grab her.  She wis shaking like a leaf and wis relived tae find the living room in semi-darkness, wae the curtains open, jist as she’d left it.  She turned and reached across tae the light switch and wis jist aboot tae flick it oan, when she heard the whispering voices.  She opened her mooth tae scream, bit nothing came oot.  She quickly, bit quietly, pushed the living room door shut and instantly regretted it.  She looked aboot in a panic.  Whit wis she supposed tae dae?  Due tae the coming and gauns in the flat, her and Lizzie hid decided tae get the phone installed in the kitchen.  She scurried across tae the windae and peered oot.  The flat wis three flights up.  She peered doon at the avenue.  There wur cars parked up oan either side ae the trees that ran up the middle ae it, bit it wis deserted apart fae a black and white moggy that wis slowly making its way alang the grass island, appearing every noo and again fae under a tree before disappearing again.  She felt faint.  She’d never felt so terrified in aw her life as she backtracked across the living room tae the door and listened.  Nothing.  She slowly turned the haundle and opened the door a couple ae inches, stoapping tae listen, before slipping through intae the lobby.  Jist as she wis aboot tae move towards the kitchen, she heard whit sounded like a key being forced intae the lock and somewan cursing under their breath.  It wis a male voice.  How she managed tae get her legs and feet tae move, she’d never know.  Taking a deep breath and fighting aff the urge tae scream the place doon, she quickly tip-toed across the carpeted flair and jist managed tae get tae the kitchen and shut o‘er the door quietly as the grating sound ae a key made another attempt tae fit intae the lock.  Wance intae the kitchen, she let oot a sob in panic as she rushed across tae the phone oan tap ae the unit.  She looked aboot in a blind panic.  The phone diary that her and Lizzie shared wis naewhere tae be seen.  She started rifling through the drawers, cursing the untidiness ae the pair ae them when she wis confronted wae piles ae bills, bobbins ae threads, cuttings fae fashion magazines and God knows whit other shite.  She wis furever telling Lizzie no tae take the hoose phone book through tae her bedroom.  Her brain wis jist starting tae go intae meltdoon when she saw the book ae paper matches pinned up oan the board oan the kitchen wall beside their work rota sheets.  It wis Jake and Kim Sui’s advertising wans that Jake hid gied her a couple ae weeks earlier during the scary business wae the inspector fae Springburn.  He’d written doon his hame number oan the flap ae it and it wis staring her in the face.  She ran across the kitchen and grabbed it aff the board and dashed back tae the telephone, picking up the receiver in wan full scoop.  She knew she’d messed it up efter she dialled the fourth number.  She should’ve dialled a three insteid ae a four.  She pressed wan ae the buttons oan tap ae the cradle part and jist aboot jumped oot ae her skin when it let oot a single chime.  She stoapped momentarily and looked across at the kitchen door before starting again.

  “Take yer time, Senga, take yer time,” she cursed, as she waited anxiously fur the dialling wheel tae return tae its stationary position before she moved oan tae the next number.

  It began ringing at the other end.

  “C’mone, Jake, please pick up the phone.  Please,” she whispered desperately, as the ringing continued in her ear.

  In whit seemed like a generation, the receiver wis picked up at the other end.

  “Jake, Jake, is that you?” she hauf screeched, hauf whispered intae the phone, glancing across at the door, hauf expecting it tae fly open.

  “Hello?” a sleepy female voice asked.

  “Hello?” Senga wailed.

  “Hello?  Who is this?” the female voice asked, clearly waking up.

  “Er, is Jake there?  Ah need tae speak tae him.  It’s urgent,” she pleaded.

  Silence.

  “Who is this?” the voice eventually asked suspiciously.

  “Ah’m sorry, bit is this Jake McAlpine’s number?”

  “Er, who’s wanting tae know?” the female voice asked again.

  “Look, Ah don’t want tae be cheeky, bit am Ah talking tae Michelle?  Michelle Hope?” Senga squealed, feeling faint wae panic.

  Silence.

  “Look, Michelle, it’s me…Senga.  Ah really need tae speak tae Jake.  Kin ye put him oan the phone please?” she pleaded.

  Silence.

  “Please?”

  “He’s sleeping.  Ah’m no sure if he’ll appreciate being wakened at this time ae the night.  Whit time dae ye call this then, eh?” the voice demanded tae know, a hard edge tae it.

  “Michelle, listen tae me.  Ah’m in ma flat alang in Barrington Drive.  There’s somewan trying tae break in using a forged key.  Ah’m staunin here in ma pyjamas and Ah’m oan ma ain.  Please, Ah don’t know who tae turn tae.”

  “Hiv ye tried the polis?  Is that no their job.”

  “Michelle, please, Ah’m scared,” Senga pleaded, bursting intae tears, as she heard the clatter ae the haunset at the other end ae the line being thrown doon.

  Senga could hear faint voices in the background and the sound ae padding feet approaching at the other end.

  “Senga, whit’s wrang?” Jake’s voice demanded.

  “Oh Jake, Ah’m no sure.  Ah think somewan’s trying tae come in through ma front door,” she sobbed.  “Ah’m here oan ma ain, so Ah am.”

  “Hiv they managed tae get in?”

  “Whit?  Er…Ah don’t know…Ah’m no sure…Ah’m shut in the kitchen,” she cried, sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Look, Senga, listen tae whit Ah hiv tae say.  Ye’ve goat tae trust me noo.  Ah want ye tae nip across tae yer kitchen door and hiv a wee peek oot.”

  “Whit?  Ah…Ah cannae…Ah’m too scared,” she hauf shrieked, hauf whispered in terror as the kitchen door loomed up large in front ae her.

  “Senga, listen tae me, hen…the locks that Harper Harris put oan yer door wid stoap a train fae getting through it…believe you me.  Go and hiv a wee peek.  It’ll only take ye a second and then come back tae the phone and let me know if the ootside door is still shut.  Hurry up…oan ye go noo…ye kin dae it,” he said soothingly, bit commandingly.

  Senga hesitated, before placing the phone doon oan the unit.  She could hear Jake screaming at Michelle tae go and get him his shoes fae the bedroom.  She paused, listened fur a second, while she took a deep breath and then quietly opened the door and peered alang the lobby, relieved tae see that the landing door looked tae be shut tight.  Jist as she wis aboot tae back-track back tae the phone, the letter box suddenly opened and a square beam ae light fae the ootside landing shot across the lobby only tae be extinguished by whit appeared tae be somewan’s face and a dark set ae shining eyes, staring intently, intae hers.

Chapter Thirty Seven

  The onslaught fae the screws hid continued.  While they wur daeing everything possible tae provoke a reaction fae Tony, Snappy and Pat in an attempt tae prevent their imminent release, even the wisest brains amongst the YOs never saw the implications ae the book confiscation exercise spiralling oot ae control the way it hid, probably because nowan wae any sense thought that Dickheid Dick and The Tormentor wid’ve stooped that low in the first place.  The pathetic attempt at setting up a so-called community library, as The Chief hid called it, at the expense ae the YOs, hid backfired spectacularly.  As soon as Tony hid shouted oot ae his cell windae, informing everywan whit wis happening, practically aw the other YOs in B and C Halls hid started tae either rip up their books or hid slung them oot ae their cell windaes intae the rain.  The screws hid been furious and hid marched aw o’er the landings, screaming that anywan caught throwing books oot ae their windaes wid be placed oan report.  By the time they’d posted screws tae staun oot in the rain tae try and catch the throwers at it, the damage hid been done.  The seagulls hid been hivving a field day, efter initially being spooked by the mass ae white pages flapping, floating and scattering everywhere in the wind tunnels that formed behind the jail walls.  When they’d goat used tae the chaos, they’d started chasing and pecking through the soaking books, shiting aw o’er them.  Tony and Pat hid hid tae practically gag Snappy, tae stoap him fae reacting verbally and violently tae the screws who appeared tae be lining up tae noise him up, believing they’d get a reaction if they pushed jist that wee bit harder.  Luckily, Snappy and Stu hid fallen oot efter Stu hid refused tae carry oan putting wee drips ae mercury intae the inside ae the evening bun ae King Robert The Beast efter being transferred tae the kitchen tae work.  Despite Tony repeatedly explaining how important that it wis fur Robert The Beast tae be kept alive due tae his signed statement regarding Johnboy’s innocence, Snappy hid soon goat fed up hivving tae be oan his best behaviour and hid tried tae restart the poisoning programme via Stu. 

  The next wave ae retribution fae the screws hid been that nae YO wis tae hiv mair than five personal photographs in their cell.  The excess photos wur duly confiscated and stored in the boxes where the YO’s civvy clothes that they’d arrived in wur kept.  By the following day, practically every porcelain lavvy pan and sink in the whole place, including those across in the workshops, hid a hole punched through them.  A big cheer hid gone up in B Hall when two ae The beasts hid gone and hid a shite in the bottom landing lavvies before staunin there aghast, watching their shite and toilet paper skiting oot ae the cubicles, oan tae the middle ae the polished landing flair by the force ae the big cast iron cisterns emptying when they’d flushed the toilet pans.  Five YOs, who’d previously been pass men, hid been frogmarched doon tae the digger, wan at a time, fur refusing tae clean up the shitey mess.  Because the digger wis awready full, The Tormentor and some ae the other goon squad hid been forced tae call a halt and get The Beastie Boys tae clean up their ain pish and shite.  The smell ae shite and drains hid clung tae everything and everywan.  The day efter the sinks and lavvy pans goat tanned, two ae the massive big boilers in the kitchen that goat used tae make everything fae soup tae porridge hid exploded efter being sabotaged.  Efter three days ae lock-doon, while they replaced aw the toilet pans oan the landings wae steel wans and fixed the kitchen boilers, everywan hid been let back oot tae go back tae work.  Recreation hid been withdrawn until further notice though, so everywan hid played their radios at full blast.  YOs whose radio batteries hid run oot hid goat them replenished by their neighbours who hid spare wans.  Ootside aw the cell windaes, there hid been spare batteries being swung between them by lengths ae socks and pyjama cords.  Of course, Snappy hid been in his element wae aw this chaos gaun oan roond aboot him.  Everywan hid been racing tae find a station that nowan else wis playing, jist tae add tae the melodic mayhem.  A screw wid smash fuck oot ae a cell door, bellowing fur the YO inside tae turn aff his radio or he’d be put oan report.  The radio wid go aff fur aboot three seconds, until the screw moved oan tae the next cell.  Seemingly, aw the neighbours within hauf a mile radius in the hooses surrounding the jail hid been complaining and gaun tae the press aboot the racket coming fae the halls aw through the day and night. 

  Johnboy hid jist been haufway through reading Senga’s latest letter, where she’d been describing the wasteland that the Toonheid hid become, which she’d seen when she’d hid tae walk tae work because ae a bus strike, when somewan fae across in B Hall hid shouted oot that they wur coming fur the letters.  Johnboy hid finished reading and then laid back, listening tae the updates being shouted by the YOs fae their cell windaes.  The main alarm hid gone aff a few times before they’d reached his cell.  The news being shouted wis that Jeff Lennon hid punched a screw oan the nose oan the second landing ae B Hall and hid been carted aff tae the digger wae batons bouncing aff ae that heid ae his.  Patsy McSwiggan, wan ae The Shamrock uglies fae the Garngad, a good pal ae The Mankys and whose cell wis opposite Snappy’s, hid also been carted aff efter grabbing The Tormentor by the throat wae baith hauns.  The news being shouted wis that any YO who’d mair than ten letters in his cell hid tae haun o’er the excess wans.  Wance again, they wur tae be taken tae the store across beside D Hall, in the first instance, before being reposted oot tae whoever the YO named.  The cost ae postage wis tae be docked fae the thirty five pence weekly wage that the YOs earned.  The alternative, the YOs wur being informed, wis that refusal tae voluntarily participate meant the excess letters wid be confiscated and destroyed.  There wis tae be a weekly check done tae make sure everywan kept within the numbers specified.  The reason being gied wis that, in the event ae a fire, people’s only contact wae the ootside hid become a fire hazard.   Even Johnboy hid been shocked at this turn ae events.  While waiting fur his turn, he’d scanned through his letters.  If pushed, which wans wid he keep and which wans wid he destroy?  Senga’s ‘Dear Johnboy’ wis sacrosanct, of course.  The only letters he’d ever received wur fae Senga.  He read through them maist nights, never getting sick ae reading the same stories ae whit her and her flatmate, Lizzie, hid goat up tae at work or when she wis daeing her volunteering work wae the battered wummin and their snappers.  Christ, some ae the descriptions and stories brought tears tae his eyes, while other wee anecdotes hid him lying back smiling.  Who ever heard ae people getting their letters sent back tae them…letters that hid been written months, sometimes years earlier?  It jist didnae make sense.  Whit wis the point?  Of course, some ae the YOs blamed Tony, Snappy and Pat fur getting special parole in the first place and upsetting the screws.  Tae make matters worse, despite Tony and Pat’s best efforts, Snappy hid been noising-up the screws at every opportunity by gaun up tae them and asking them if they’d been the wan that hid put in the good report aboot him, which hid enabled him tae get early release.  Others blamed Tony fur starting the ‘Tear up yer books’ campaign, since Dickheid Dick and The Tormentor hid targeted him first and, of course, it hid been Tony that hid shouted oot ae his cell windae, advising everywan tae tear up their books.  Snappy hid been up at his windae aw day and night, urging people no tae accept the shite the screws wur dishing oot.

  “Dae ye think the cons up in the adult jails wid accept aw this grief?” he’d kept reminding them.

  By the time they’d reached Johnboy’s cell, he wis ready and waiting.

  “Right, Taylor, Ah’ve been advised tae inform ye that due tae…”

  “Furget aw the babbling shite, Ah heard awready,” Johnboy hid said, butting-in.

  “So, according tae oor correspondence log book, ye should be in possession ae twenty seven letters.  Is that right?” Ding-Dong hid asked him.

  “Ah’m no sure, Ah hivnae coonted them.”

  “Aye, well, Mr Patrick, the censoring officer, his assured us that that’s yer tally, so he his,” The Tormentor hid stated, jist aboot shooting that bolt ae his in ecstasy.

  “So?”

  “So, ye owe us seventeen letters,” Dickheid hid demanded, jumping in there tae take the control away fae Ding Dong…no being able tae contain himsel.

  “Ah owe youse fuck aw,” Johnboy hid retorted.

  “Is that yer way ae saying ye’re no prepared tae accept the new rule, Taylor?” Dickheid hid growled at him, clearly enjoying the dissention being displayed in front ae him.

  “That’s ma way ae saying that if any ae youse basturts touch ma letters, Ah’ll rip the fucking face aff ae ye, so Ah will,” Johnboy hid retorted, picking up his folded stash ae letters, which wur held thegither by an auld worn-oot shoelace.

  “Right, so be it…if that’s yer attitude.  Mr Hamilton…Mr Ding…escort Taylor tae the digger forthwith, if ye please,” Dickheid hid turned and bellowed at the two screws who’d been loitering wae intent oan the landing behind the SO.

  He’d spent three days in the digger before being allowed back intae circulation.  Johnboy hid never been so fit.  He’d spent maist ae his time locked up twenty-four-seven, daeing keep fit exercises, preparing himsel, alang wae maist ae the other YOs in the place that wis prepared tae fight, fur the inevitable riot that wis aboot tae descend oan the heids ae The Mufti Squad.  The digger hid been stacked tae the gunnels wae fellow letter objectors like himsel.  They’d cleared YOs oot ae the bottom flair ae B Hall and doubled them up elsewhere so they could use their cells as temporary digger cells.  Oan reflection, Johnboy wid’ve liked tae hiv thought that his release fae the digger hid been due tae a change ae heart oan the part ae The Chief, efter recognising the injustice ae the rules being implemented and applied, bit that wid’ve been asking fur too much.  The night before everywan, including Johnboy, wur released fae the digger, apart fae Jeff Lennon and Wee Patsy, who’d baith been charged wae assaulting prison officers by the civvy bizzies, a wee first offender called Baz Minto, daeing three years fur stabbing his father-in-law tae stoap him strangling his wife’s maw, hid hung himsel fae the bars ae his cell.  Baz hid been wan ae the first YOs tae be targeted by the screws and hid been forced tae haun o’er photos ae his stillborn wean.  Then they’d come fur his letters fae his wife.  Given that aw letters sent and received wur censored, it hidnae been lost oan anywan that Dickheid Dick and The Tormentor wid’ve been acutely aware ae how depressed Wee Baz wis aboot his situation.  Of course, nowan fae the governor doon tae the lowliest ae the low screws, like The Tormentor and Ding-dong hid accepted any responsibility or showed the slightest signs ae remorse, bit everywan wis well aware ae who’d been responsible.  Fae the day efter Baz Minto’s lifeless body wis shipped up the road tae that poor wee wife ae his in Glesga, there hid been nae mair demands oan YOs tae haun o’er photos or letters.  When Johnboy hid eventually been returned tae his cell, wae his precious bundle ae letters, everything hid looked as it hid been, before his few days in the digger.  It wis only when he’d opened his guitar case, that he’d discovered that some prick hid put the heel ae their boot through his good Guild guitar.  He’d stood there staring at the carnage.  He’d actually been able tae make oot the curvature ae the heel that hid done the damage.  Johnboy hid wanted tae pick it up and smash it tae smithereens aff ae the walls, bit hid somehow managed tae contain that rage ae his.  He still hid Senga’s letters, he’d kept telling himsel.  He’d sat in an awful state, swinging between black rages…wanting tae kill Dickheid Dick, The Tormentor and that fucking prick, Ding-dong…tae telling himsel that it wis only a guitar and that the shoaps in the toon wur full ae them.  He’d decided no tae tell the other Mankys aboot the damage tae the guitar, as he knew that it wid’ve probably sent them o’er the edge.  Even Tony hid admitted tae struggling wae no retaliating o’er the past ten days.  Senga wis their priority and if that meant eating shite, morning, noon and night, then so be it. 

  Oan the Senga front, despite a few wee hiccups, misunderstandings and interruptions, oan his part, Johnboy wis feeling positive aboot his reconnection wae her and where it appeared tae be leading him.  He wis still able tae hiv a laugh and hid Senga’s letters tae look forward tae.  Daeing time wisnae the same as when he wis younger.  There appeared tae be a lot mair shite tae contend wae noo that he wis aulder.  He thought aboot Jimmy Baxter.  Jimmy wis another wan he felt bad aboot.  Although Jimmy hid never said anything, Johnboy knew he wis sick as a parrot efter Silent hid goat shipped up tae Saughton tae learn how tae cut hair.  It wis difficult no tae pity him efter he found oot that Tony, Snappy and Pat hid been gied parole.

  “Well, there goes ma chance ae liberation any time soon,” Jimmy hid murmured tae Johnboy, wae a defeated shrug ae they shoulders ae his.

  Jimmy always refused tae accept Johnboy’s claim ae being innocent.  It hid crossed Johnboy’s mind a few times tae sit doon and tell Jimmy the whole story, bit the thought ae two YOs hinging aboot wae each other, smothering themsels in self-pity aboot their situation, didnae appeal tae him.  Jimmy wis fine, bit it didnae take him long tae nosedive intae a depression that widnae let go ae him fur up tae a week, despite Johnboy trying tae get him back oan track.  It wis difficult…as he’d tae continually tell Jimmy no tae expect any ae The Mankys tae help him oot.  Even though they widnae hiv wished his situation oan him, they wurnae in a position tae corroborate his innocence withoot compromising themsels, seeing as it hid been them that hid robbed the bank in the first place and shot Liam Thompson and his PC side-kick.   Also, they could be funny basturts, and no in the jolly sense either.  They wur jist too clannish tae dae somewan deemed as an ootsider a favour like that.  As far as they wur concerned, if anywan happened tae be caught in the crossfire ae their dastardly deeds, then tough shit…life wis a bitch and ye died at the end ae it.  Ye either goat up aff ae yer arse and did something aboot yer situation tae make things happen or ye didnae.  It hid taken aw Tony’s patience and self-restraint tae make sure that Snappy didnae kill Robert The Beast, efter Snappy found oot that The Beast hid gone tae a brief aboot whit he’d heard in the digger the day Johnboy hid first arrived.  It didnae matter that, in the long run, it could help Johnboy’s situation.  Snappy wis like a bear wae a sore arse.  As far as Snappy wis concerned, he widnae pish oan Robert the Beast if he wis oan fire.  Although it wid be sad tae see them go, Johnboy knew fine well that Senga and her flatmate’s only chance ae survival lay in the hauns ae a bunch ae so-called Neds back in the toon.  The key issue fur Johnboy, and hopefully them, wis securing Senga and Lizzie Mathieson’s safety.  Tony’s liberation wid ensure everything wis done tae secure that, unless Simon fucked up o’er the next ten days or so.  Johnboy hid every faith in Simon, Jake, Ben and Peter, bit he’d feel a lot better wance Tony wis oot tae take back the reigns.  He wis aware that Senga hid a few days aff before she wis starting back oan the night shift.  She’d be tucked up in bed, sleeping.  He wondered whit she wis dreaming aboot and whit her flat, and her bedroom, looked like.  Her life aw seemed so normal.  He wondered whit it felt like tae lead a normal life.  He stretched and yawned, before leaning o’er and turning aff his radio, efter the DJ on Mi Amigo telt Europe that it wis two thirty in the morning, GMT.