The Wummin: The Glasgow Chronicles 5 (9 page)

  “Thank ye, Father, er, Ah mean, Reverend,” Issie hid sobbed, efter saying cheerio tae The Reverend and his flock in Endricks Street.

  Wance the minister and aw the auld wans he’d brought wae him hid gone, the lassies hid hung aboot in the closemooth where the sale hid been taking place.  They’d aw sworn tae Helen that it hidnae been wan ae them that hid assaulted The Stalker.

  “Naw, he goat that second prize oan that mooth ae his fae somewan else.  Mind you, if him and that Biscuit wan hid come any closer, he wid’ve been walking away wae a cracked skull tae go wae his bloody mooth,” Sharon hid declared, waving her banner aboot tae the sound ae cackling laughter.

  Helen and Betty hid walked Issie hame.  When they’d gone up fur a cup ae tea, Tam hid been staggering aboot in his underpants and string vest, pished as a fart.  He’d telt Issie that Father John hid turned up tae discuss Joe’s absolution and funeral arrangements.  Tam hid slammed the door in the priest’s face, efter telling him that they’d awready made arrangements and fur him tae piss aff and no come back.

  “And another thing, Holy Wullie...don’t expect tae see Issie or any ae the other wummin at midnight mass the night,” hid been Tam’s parting shot.

  “Christ, Ah’m right glad the minister his agreed tae dae the funeral.  Who knows whit we wid’ve done if he’d said naw,” Issie hid said, efter telling Tam tae go away and put some clothes oan as he wis scaring Betty and Helen.

  “Whit ur we gonnae dae aboot the midnight mass doon in St Teresa’s the night then?” Betty hid asked, inadvertently looking heavenwards when she asked the question.

  “Ye heard Tam...none ae us ur gaun near the place.  Ah’m sure God’ll understaun oor position.  If he disnae, then he’s no the God we’ve always been telt tae believe that he is,” Helen hid declared.

  Helen checked her list again and added a hauf bottle ae Bells whisky tae it before staunin up, switching the immersion heater oan and grabbing her two shoapping bags and coat as she heided fur the door.

Chapter Eighteen

Christmas Day 1971

  Helen sat at the kitchen table and puffed oan her fifth fag ae the day.  She could hear Jimmy through in the living room, cackling away, watching Aspel’s Christmas Crackers oan the telly, while he cleaned oot the grate tae get the fire gaun.  He’d brought a steaming, milky cup ae coffee alang wae a fry-up through tae her in bed earlier.  The coffee hid been a pleasant surprise.  He’d turned up the night before wae a big jar ae it that he’d goat through somewan at his work.  It wis something she never bought because ae the price ae it.  They’d sat, as they always did oan Christmas Eve, peeling the totties, carrots and Brussels sprouts in preparation fur their Christmas dinner the next day, while watching a shite film called Carrington VC.   Jimmy hid liked it, bit she could tell that she’d pissed him aff when she’d sat bubbling through it.

  “Look, Ah know how upsetting this must be fur ye at this time ae year, bit yer maw  hidnae been well fur ages.  Dae ye no think that it wis maybe fur the best?” he’d asked her, wan eye oan her and wan oan the film.

  “Aye, Ah know, bit Ah jist cannae help feeling terrible fur her.  Throughoot her entire life, she wis never ever mair than a whisker away fae the breid-line.  The pair ae them hid tae scrape aw their days, and fur whit?”

  “Aye, well, Ah know how they must’ve felt,” Jimmy hid replied sarcastically.

  “Kin ye imagine?  They lived through two World Wars, my da fighting in baith ae them, losing a couple ae toes intae the bargain and fur whit?”

  “Aye, well, there’s a lot ae them aboot.”

  “So aw these rich wans kin go aboot their business, making even mair money aff ae the sweat ae the poor and doontrodden.  Whit’s changed, eh?”

  “Fur Christ’s sake, Helen…it’s Christmas.  Whit’s happened tae good-will tae aw men...and aw that kind ae thing?”

  “Aye, ye’re right, Jimmy.  You jist watch yer film and Ah’ll go through and stuff the arse oot ae they good Rob Roy chickens through there,” she’d sighed, staunin up and leaving him tae it.

  She knew he’d been right.  He worked hard and when he came hame, aw he wanted tae dae wis tae relax, withoot hivving tae listen tae her rants.  She wis looking forward tae the rest ae the day.  Everything wis in order.  Jimmy wis wandering aboot wae a spring in his step efter getting mair than a long lie-in earlier and the lassies and the weans wur due roond aboot twelvish.  Malcolm wis drapping Isabelle aff wae the weans, before nipping back tae pick up Anne, Tommy and Norma in his wee AA van, seeing as there wisnae any buses oan the go.  Isabelle said they’d nip in by Granda wae his presents first.  Helen and Jimmy hid decided tae leave the opening ae any presents until everywan hid arrived.  Helen looked aboot the kitchen.  There wisnae much tae be done other than tae dae the breakfast dishes.  She started tae get a wee tingle in her stomach.  It wid be great tae be thegither as a family again, plus she wis excited aboot finding oot whit Jimmy hid goat her.  It hid taken her aw her strength no tae hiv a wee peep intae Johnboy’s room, ever since Jimmy’d telt her no tae go in there, as he didnae want tae miss the surprise oan her coupon when she opened her pressies oan Christmas day.

  “Here we go, hen,” Jimmy shouted, as the letterbox started clattering.

  Helen stubbed oot her fag and goat up and went tae open the door.

  “Granny, Granny, that Santa Claus wan came tae ma hoose last night when Ah wis sleeping, so he did,” Morag screamed, gieing her granny a cuddle.

  “Oh, ma word, did he really?  And whit did he leave fur ye, hen?”

  “A dark broon dolly wae white eyes and red lips,” Morag exclaimed, haudin it oot in front ae her.

  “Oh, well, ye better run and show yer granda then.  Ah’m sure he’ll be dying tae see it, darling,” Helen said, smiling, as she goat a hug and a kiss fae Malcolm.

  “Ah’ve goat a Johnny Seven gun, Granny,” wee Ian said breathlessly fae behind Malcolm.

He wis dressed up in an Action Man ootfit and shot Helen wae a plastic missile.

  “Aye, Ah could be daeing wae wan ae them masel, Ian,” she said, getting a kiss and a cuddle.

  “Ye kin hiv a shot ae it, if ye promise no tae lose aw the parts.  There’s seven ae them,” he shouted, running alang the corridor tae show his granda.

  “A gun?”

  “Aye, and a Merry Christmas tae you tae, Ma,” Isabelle said, gieing her ma a kiss.

  “That’s nothing, ye should see the arsenal we left back at the hoose.  Right, Ah’m aff tae collect Anne and Norma.  Ah won’t be long,” Malcolm said, before disappearing back oot the door.

  “Granny, when ur we getting tae open the presents Santa left,” Morag shouted wae excitement as Isabelle accepted a glass ae Babycham fae Helen.

  “When yer aunties Anne and Norma arrive, hen.”

   It wis good tae hear the sound ae weans running aboot the hoose oan Christmas day, Helen thought tae hersel as Malcolm arrived wae Anne and her man, Tommy, followed closely by Norma.

  “Right, before we start...Merry Christmas tae youse aw and thanks fur coming,” Helen said, raising her Babycham.

  “Merry Christmas,” everywan shouted.

  “Right, Morag and Ian, ma wee Christmas elves.  Ur youse gonnae help yer granny tae haun o’er Santa’s presents tae everywan?” Helen asked the weans.

  “Yippee!” Wee Ian shouted, running across towards the Christmas tree, tripping oan the rug and landing, heid first, in amongst the presents, toppling o’er the tree and fusing aw the lights in the hoose.

Chapter Nineteen

  “Bumper, that’s the best batter Ah’ve tasted in a long time, so it is,” The Stalker announced, shifting the hot Ye Auld Oak Ham fae wan side ae his mooth tae the other wae that tongue ae his, at the same time as sooking in air, trying tae cool it doon.

  “Who says us men cannae cope withoot wummin, eh?” Bumper agreed, dolloping a big spoonful ae Smash totties oan tae his battered ham, before shoving it intae his gub.

  “Too true.”

  “So, where did the ham come fae then?  It’s bloody quality, so it is,” Bumper asked.

  “Biscuit grabbed a few tins fae the pavement ootside the Co-op, oan Springburn Road, yesterday morning.”

  “How’s yer jaw?”

  “Ah finally managed tae get the bleeding tae stoap last night, so Ah did.”

  “So, whit ur ye daeing wae the bar towel then?”

  “Ah’ll get it washed and gie it back tae her.”

  “If it hid been me, Ah widnae hiv took it aff ae her.  It’ll cost ye dear, that will.”

  “Aye, well, it’s awright fur you tae say that, bit ye wurnae there.  The blood wis pishing oot ae that mooth ae mine like a burst hose pipe.  Ah hivnae any problem wae accepting the towel, bit she wullnae get any favours oot ae me.”

  “In the name ae the wee man!  Did ye see that?  There’s nae way ye’d get me sticking ma heid intae a lion’s mooth, no matter how much ye paid me,” Bumper exclaimed, eyes glued tae the telly.

  “Is this coming fae across in The Kelvin Hall?” The Stalker asked him.

  “Billy Smart’s Circus?  Nah, he’s too famous tae be playing in a dump like Glesga.

Chapter Twenty

  “Noo remember, Ian, ye’ve nae tae cross the black insulating tape line that granda his stuck oan the carpet.  Hiv ye goat that?” Isabelle warned him.

  “Aye, Ma,” he replied, touching the tape wae his toe and gieing her a cheeky smile.

  “Right, here ye go, darling.  Haun that across tae yer granda,” Helen said tae him.

  “Aw, thanks, Helen.  Ah love Brut, so Ah dae,” Jimmy said, chuffed wae his deodorant.

  “Aye, Brut fur a brute,” Norma chuckled.

  “Right, Da, never mind yer Brut...whit did ye get Ma?” Anne asked him.

  “Haud yer horses.  Yer ma will get hers in good enough time.”

  “Aw, shut yer geggy and get oan wae it, Da.  It’s this Christmas she wants it, no Halloween.” 

  “See, that’s why Ah’m right glad that aw ae youse hiv left hame.  Ah kin come hame tae ma ain hoose withoot any fear ae being verbally abused and humiliated…maist ae the time,” Jimmy said, staunin up and heiding fur Johnboy’s bedroom.

  “Ach, get oan wae it,” Norma said tae laughter.

  Helen wis right glad that everything hid gone back tae normal and the lights oan the Christmas tree wur blinking away again, since Jimmy changed the fuse wire.   Poor wee Ian hid jist aboot peed himsel when everywan shouted at him efter he'd been dragged oot fae under the toppled tree.

  “Right, shut yer eyes, Helen.  Here it comes, ready or no,” Jimmy shouted fae the lobby in excitement.

  “Ooh, Ma, it’s something big,” Norma said, as Jimmy entered the room.

  “Right, open yer eyes, hen,” Jimmy said, putting the square box, wrapped in Christmas paper, doon in front ae her.  “Aye, and there’s mair fae where that came fae,” Jimmy said, bragging tae everywan, puffing oot his chest.

  “Oh, Jimmy, ye shouldnae hiv.  Ah hope ye hivnae spent too much oan me,” Helen protested, aw chuffed, as Morag and Ian came and joined her.

  “C’mone, Ma, let’s see whit a wummin who’s goat everything gets fae her man,” Anne cackled, as Helen and the weans ripped the paper aff ae her parcel.

  “Oh, Jimmy, it’s pure dead brilliant, so it is,” Helen beamed, leaning across and gieing him a kiss.

  “A fire?  A two-bar electric fire?  Is he joking or whit?” Isabelle asked incredulously.

  “Whit is it, Granny?” Wee Ian asked.

  “Oh Jimmy, Ah love it and there’s a wee shiny silver haundle oan it as well.  It means Ah kin carry it aboot fae room tae room, so it dis.”

  “A fire?  Whit kind ae a man gets his wife a fire fur her Christmas?  That’s whit Ah want tae know,” Anne asked.

  “Hoi, ye widnae be saying that if ye hid tae get up in this place in the morning.  Yer ma his been complaining fur months aboot the cauld in here at the crack ae dawn, so she his,” Jimmy pouted defensively.

  “Jimmy, don’t listen tae them.  It’s lovely and Ah love it,” Helen said, running her fingers alang the shiny red lacquered paint.

  “Christ, Ah’m scared tae ask whit else he’s goat her,” Isabelle shouted, laughing.

  “Ah think it’s lovely, Helen, and as Jimmy said, ye’ll be able tae take it intae the kitchen in the morning wae ye,” Tommy, Anne’s boyfriend, said kindly.

  “Right, ya basturts, Ah don’t want any ae yer catty comments aboot this,” Jimmy warned them, triumphantly, haudin o’er Helen’s other present which he’d returned wae, efter nipping back through tae Johnboy’s bedroom.

  “That better no be whit Ah think it is,” Norma warned, as Helen unwrapped a big oblong  parcel.

  “It is!” the three lassies screamed in horror.

  “Don’t listen tae them, Jimmy.  There’re jist trying tae wind ye up,” Helen retorted in his defence, admiring her new ironing board.

  “Is that a snow sledge, Granny?” Morag asked her, as Ian ran his haun up the side ae it.

  “If ye ever gie me wan ae them, ye’ll find aw yer shitey pants scattered aboot the street when ye come hame fae yer work, so ye will,” Isabelle warned Malcolm.

  “Aye, Ah’ll gie ye yer dues there, Jimmy.  Ye certainly know how tae wind up the wummin, so ye dae.  So, where’s the real presents then?” Tommy asked tae howls ae laughter.

  “Ah’m sick ae hivving tae go through and use a blanket oan tap ae the dressing table as an ironing board, so Ah am,” Helen said, in Jimmy’s defence…again.

  “Aye, ye kin staun in the middle ae the living room in yer nice pink slippers that Isabelle and Tommy goat ye, ironing that pair ae bri-nylon shirts ye goat fur ma da, aw nice and warm in front ae yer new two-bar electric fire, so ye kin,” Norma chipped in sarcastically.

  “There’s nae point in gieing somewan a present that they don’t want.  Is that no right, Helen, hen?” Jimmy asked.

  “Ignore them, Jimmy.  Ah’m jist feeling guilty noo that aw Ah goat ye wis a couple ae shirts and some Brut,” Helen said, looking across at him adoringly.

  “Christ, hiv ye never heard ae Wummin’s Lib, Ma?  It’s been aroond since the mid-sixties, so it his,” Anne reminded her, tae nods fae the lassies.

  “Is that yer letterbox being rattled?” Isabelle asked, as everywan looked across tae the living room door.

  “Ah’ll get it, Ma,”  Norma, who’d been sitting nearest tae the living room door said.

  “Mary, how ur ye daeing, hen?  Wis Santa good tae ye?” Helen asked Wee Mary, when she appeared intae the living room.

  “Hello, Helen...aye, Ah goat a giant dolly, bit wan ae its eyes fell oot, so it did.  Helen, ma maw said Ah wis tae say sorry fur disturbing ye, bit she wondered if there wis any chance ae getting a shot ae yer oven tae cook her good chicken in.”

  “Why, whit’s wrang wae her ain wan, hen?”

  “The gas is oan the blink.  There’s a van wae men digging up the street because ae a gas leak, so there is.”

  “Aw, is that no terrible, especially oan Christmas Day tae?” Anne cried oot, as everywan except Jimmy nodded.

  “Whit time wis that ma ae yers planning tae eat at, Mary?” Helen asked her.

  “Ah don’t know, bit Ah dae know that she wis wanting tae sit doon and watch The Black and White Minstrels efter we scoffed it.”

  “And whit aboot yer da, hen?  Is he up and aboot?”

  “Ah don’t think so.  Ah hivnae clocked him the day.  Ah think he’s still in his kip, no well.”

  “Right, well, you jist go back roond there and tell that maw ae yours tae get back roond here.  Tell her tae bring that chicken wae her.  Youse kin hiv yer Christmas dinner wae us, so youse kin.  Isn’t that right, girls?” Helen announced, turning tae the lassies.

  “Too true.”

  “Of course it is, hen,” Anne said tae Wee Mary, smiling.

  “And if that da ae yers is up oan the go, tell him tae come as well, hen,” Helen said.

  “Ooh, right, Helen, ta,” Wee Mary said, wae a big smile oan her face, before disappearing oot the door.

  “Did ye know aboot this?” Jimmy demanded.

  “Know aboot whit?”

  “That Issie wis coming roond fur her Christmas dinner?”

  “Ah might be good, bit no that good.  Causing gas pipes tae leak in the middle ae the street isnae wan ae ma many special talents, and anyway, whit’s yer problem?”

  “Ye know fine well whit ma problem is.  We’ve awready spoken aboot it, so we hiv,” Jimmy retorted indignantly.

  “Aw, Da, shut yer arse.  Ah hivnae seen Issie fur a while, especially since poor Joe goat stabbed,” Norma admonished him.

  “Oh, well, don’t mind me.  Ah only live here and pay the bills, so Ah dae,” Jimmy said in disgust.

  “Ach, never mind, Scrooge.  Here, hiv a can,” Tommy said, throwing Jimmy o’er a can ae Tennents lager.

  “That’s the door, Ma.  Will somewan answer it?” Norma shouted fae through in the kitchen.

  “It’ll be Issie and Wee Mary.  Ah’ll get it,” Anne said.

  “Jesus Christ, it’s Betty.  She’s early, so she is,” Helen said tae Jimmy oan hearing Betty’s voice.

  “Oh, Helen, Ah’m sorry tae bother ye, hen, bit oor gas is oan the blink, so it is.  Oh, hello, Jimmy, and Merry Christmas tae yersel.”

  “Aye, it wis, hen.”

  “Anyway, Helen, is there any chance ae getting a wee shot ae yer oven fur that chicken ae mine when ye’ve finished using yer ain wan, hen?”

  “Look, Wee Mary his been roond telling us whit the score is.  Whit ur ye gonnae dae aboot yer totties, sprouts and mashed tumshie tae go wae it?”

  “Ach, we’re no really bothered aboot that, bit it widnae be Christmas withoot a wee bit ae Bisto and roast chicken, so it widnae,” Betty replied.

  “Look, Betty, go and get Stan and aw yer vegetables.  We’ll get everything cooked roond here.  We’ll probably aw be eating at midnight, bit at least we’ll hiv a good time, eh?” Helen said.

  “Ach, Helen, ur ye sure?  Stan spoke tae wan ae the boys that ur digging up the road and he said he didnae know if the gas wid be back oan the day, so he didnae.”

  “Hoi, wheesht.  Yersel and Stan ur mair than welcome tae be here, aren’t they, Jimmy?”

  “Oh, aye, the mair the merrier, that’s whit Ah say,” Jimmy said drily, as Tommy laughed and slung him across another can ae Tennents.