But he did go too far on one occasion – one boy was stabbed after Mick told the assailant that another boy had called his mother “an auld cow,” in other words a prostitute. There was an investigation at the school and Mick the mixer was promptly expelled. But even after that, his mixing ways continued, causing fights between men (and even women) in bars and dancehalls. But Johnny knew the score, Mick might have been an excellent mixer but he was also an excellent source of information about what was happening on the street. Mick was a short fellow, 5’2”, with thick, sandy hair and a slight stammer.
As Johnny approached him, Mick looked slightly edgy. “How, how…how’s it gaun Johnny?” Johnny could tell that Mick was slightly afraid of him, probably because he had once beaten him up after he had tried to mix it up in the playground. From that day on, Mick had behaved himself with Johnny. No more stirring it up in his direction.
“No’ bad, Mick, what’s the Hampden roar, man?”
Mick looked even more edgy. He was aware that Johnny would have no hesitation in punching or even slashing him, if he stirred things up. “Eh well a wee bird tells me you should watch out for yourself.”
“Oh aye,” Johnny replied, “Just what else did the wee bird tell you?”
Mick’s face reddened, “Ah would watch out for McCoy and his cronies. Ah...ah…hear they’re out tae get you, four of them.”
Having seen the four guys, Johnny instinctively knew that Mick, this time, was not mixing it up but telling the truth.
“So, what else did ye hear Mick?” Johnny said in a tone that was slightly menacing.
“Well, turns oot that McCoy’s cousin, a wee guy called Jimmy, is just oot o’ jail and he’s a bit of a chib merchant. He’s telling everybody he’s gonnae get you.” Mick described Jimmy in detail so he would know him when he saw him. The description matched the guy he had seen from his kitchen sink window.
“Anything else?” Johnny said. Mick thought for a moment, tried not to stammer too much and replied, “The McCoy mob have been mouthing off that they’re gonnae throw acid in your face or even burn your house down.”
Johnny smirked, “Aye, fucking acid drops, sweeties. It’s a joke, Mick, in fact those cardboard gangsters are a joke. You tell them fae me, ah’m ready willing and able tae go ahead!”
“Will…will do John…Johnny,” Mick replied shaking his hand.
Johnny walked away feeling angry but glad that Mick had spilled the beans. He felt the hammer in his waistband, he was so angry he was willing to launch an attack on these guys straight away.
He walked to Gorbals Cross, along Gorbals Street and then turned into Cleland Street. His luck was in. Standing outside the Asian corner shop was Jimmy from the McCoy gang. He looked unperturbed at the sight of Johnny. For although he had heard a lot about Johnny, Jimmy had never seen him in person.
Johnny walked straight up to him, “Are you Jimmy?”
Jimmy gave a quizzical look, “Aye, who’s asking?”
“Ah’m fucking asking, Johnny McGrath.”
Jimmy showed no fear, took a draw of his cigarette and replied, “Don’t know what you’re talking about pal. Ah don’t know ye, never heard of ye, so get tae fuck”
Johnny pulled the hammer out of his trousers and hit him full force on the head. The blow made Jimmy turn in a circular motion before he fell to the pavement. There was blood gushing from his head.
Johnny walked into the shop and said to the Asian man behind the counter, “Better call an ambulance some poor fella has just been attacked outside.”
He walked off towards Crown Street as a crowd gathered round a stricken and bloodied Jimmy.
When he got back to the house, he admired his haircut in the mirror. Felix had done a wonderful job. “One down, three to go,” he mumbled to himself, trying to mimic Tony Curtis in The Boston Strangler.
Chapter 31
RATS
Things were quiet for a few days. Johnny expected some kind of comeback from the McCoy mob, but nothing. A small story did appear in the Evening Times though:
“A 37-year-old man was hit on the head with hammer in the Gorbals area of Glasgow, while trying to fend off two muggers.”
Johnny was amused. Where the fuck did the two muggers bit come from? He had battered Jimmy on the nut, maybe it had knocked the sense out of him. Or maybe, as he suspected, Jimmy had told the police, while lying in his hospital bed, he had been mugged to cover his tracks. It was the old Gorbals adage, tell the polis nothing and if you did, tell them lies.
Johnny had made his mind up, he must attack the other three guys as soon as possible. Attack after all, is the best form of defence. He had a meeting with Malky, Alex and Chris in the Turf bar. But the consensus was that after the attack McCoy and his cohorts were nowhere to be seen. It was as if they had disappeared into thin air. Malky summed it up, “Those bastards are fly. They’ll hide until they decide to make their move. You mark my words, so keep your wits about you Johnny,” Chris more or less uttered the same message, “From now on you’ll have to have eyes in the back of your head to deal wi’ that bunch of sneaky bastards.”
Alex agreed, “You’ll have to have the eyes of a shitehouse rat when dealing wi’ those no users. But no’ to worry, you’ve got us behind you all the way.”
The conversation cheered Johnny up but he had an inkling in his mind that it was too quiet, with no immediate comebacks. The McCoy mob must be planning a big revenge mission against him and waiting for the right time to strike. The atmosphere was similar to the ambushes he had experienced in the gang attacks.
He did not know where McCoy and his father lived but he heard from one source that they were now staying with relatives, in the Calton area. This was real Tong gang country, there is no way they could go on a search there, they would be outnumbered and mollicated by the Tongs. It would be a bit like a cowboy going into Indian country. The best thing to do was to wait and see what happened. Malky agreed, “Do nothing. Let them make the first move. They’re bound to slip up and when they do, we’ll give them a lesson they’ll never forget.”
Johnny nodded in agreement, “You’re right Malky, it is a waiting game but how long have we got to wait?” Alex was quick off the mark, “Those guys are cowards. I’ll tell you what, you’ll wait so long you’ll have forgotten what you were waiting for.”
They parted in high spirits but when Johnny walked towards Crown Street he felt apprehensive that he could be attacked at any moment. He touched the hammer in his trouser waistband and for a few moments it gave him a modicum of comfort. Suddenly he saw around a dozen young guys coming towards him, they were all members of the gang’s junior division, the Tiny Cumbie. Their leader, Goo Goo, shouted, “Ok, Johnny? We hear you having trouble wi’ a few cardboard gangsters. If ye need any help we’re here for you.”
Like Johnny, Goo, a boy of around 15, was well dressed and had handsome features. He was undoubtedly a rising star in the gang structure and had been tipped to take over the leadership of the YYC when the time was right, after Johnny moved on to fresher pastures. Perhaps when he got a proper job, got married, had kids and settled down. Goo was the future… but not yet.
For the foreseeable future Johnny was the undisputed leader, the guy they all looked up to.
“Thanks, boys,” Johnny said, “Nice to know ah’ve got friends in high places. Or should I say low places?” They all laughed as Johnny moved off. When he entered the close he looked back and was sure he saw one of the McCoy’s appear across the road, but it was all in the blink of an eye. He turned back and looked up Crown Street, just drunks staggering by, no sign of the McCoy mob. He was aware that the McCoy gang were basically cowards but even experienced cowards can do you more harm than brave bastards. As an example, he thought of the razor potato in his back.
He also thought cowards were like backcourt rats. Skulking about the place in darkness, waiting to pounce on their prey. Sure, a coward had almost killed him with a razor potato and then ran off, just like a rat. That’s
what cowards did. They would not face you man to man. They were people who hid behind lies and deceit. Rats to the core!
When he got back to the house he was surprised to see his father there. He had a glass of red wine in his hand with a bottle of Eldorado wine and cans of Tennent’s lager on the kitchen table. His mother and brother were also there sitting opposite the coal fire.
“Come away in Johnny and have a drink,” his father shouted. Johnny replied, “No problem da, but what are you doing home? Ah thought you were away on a long cruise.” His father poured Johnny a large glass of Eldorado and handed him a can of lager.
Johnny’s brother had a small glass of Irn Bru and his mother a small glass of wine, they did not look happy. Johnny could tell something was up. The atmosphere was very subdued.
“Engine trouble, Johnny, bloody engine trouble. The ship has to have a new engine fitted and we’ve all been laid off until the problem is sorted out,” his father said. But he could read his father like a book and could tell when he was being economical with the truth. The look on his mother’s face said it all, she barely smiled during the homecoming celebration.
“So how long are ye here for, da?” Johnny asked sipping his Eldorado.
“As long as it bloody well takes. Ah’m fed up wi’ the boats anyway. Being away fae ma family for so long has been doing ma nut in. So how you been doing? Ah heard you had a wee injury recently, your maw was telling me.” Johnny shrugged his shoulders, “Ach, it was nothing, ah’m fighting fit now.”
His father laughed, “Aye, fit for fuck all!”
More drink was poured and the atmosphere seemed to improve considerably. Johnny’s father looked at Joseph, “So how’s it going at your posh school, wee man?” Joseph took a sip of his Irn Bru, “No’ bad, da, ah’m learning a lot, subjects like History, English, Maths and even Latin.”
His father spat out some wine with laughter, “Latin? What good is that? Are ye gonnae get a job as a Roman centurion when you leave school?”
The boy did not look amused. He gave his father the sort of stern look a teacher gives a naughty pupil. “Nah, Latin is great. It helps you understand the English language better.”
“Like what?”
“Well, take, for example, on the side of every Glasgow polis car it says, semper vigilo. You know what that means?”
“No”
“It means “always watching”. And that’s what they are doing, always watching people like Johnny and his gang pals!”
For a few moments his father looked impressed, “It sounds better than the crap schools me and your brother went to.” Johnny and his mother gave weak smiles because they knew he was speaking the truth. Many a true word is spoken in jest.
“Ma da’s right,” Johnny said, “The only thing we learnt at school was to fight and duck and dive. They call that an education, some people would call it torture!”
Suddenly there was loud banging on the door. 12 o’clock at night and someone was knocking on the fucking door. Johnny leapt from his chair, “Who the hell can that be at this time of night?” He had a hammer in his hand. It must be McCoy and his gang. Now was the time of reckoning. “Who is it?” Johnny shouted. No answer. He raised his voice higher, “Who the fuck is it?”
Suddenly he heard a woman’s weak voice say, “Lorraine. It’s Lorraine, Johnny.”
Still clutching the hammer in his hand firmly, in case it was an ambush, he opened the door. Lorraine was standing there, unsteady on her feet. She looked as though she had been crying and her breath smelt heavily of alcohol.
Johnny shouted back into the house, “It’s awright, it’s for me.” He closed the front door behind him and said to Lorraine, “What the fuck are you doing knocking at my door at this time of night?”
She shivered and muttered, “Johnny ah don’t care about the time, ah had tae talk tae ye.”
“About what?”
“Remember that night at the Railway Club?”
“Aye”
“Well…..”
“Well what?”
“Well, ah’m pregnant.
This was more painful than having a razor blade stuck in his back.
“How da ye know it’s mine”
“You’re the only man ah’ve been wi’.”
It was a difficult situation. He decided to walk Lorraine back to her house a few blocks away in Florence Street. As they walked through the cold Gorbals streets he looked at her, she was young and beautiful. Any man would give his right arm to have her as a wife.
She looked at Johnny pensively, “So, what are we gonnae do Johnny?”
“Do about what?”
“About the baby.”
He felt confused, it was a big question for a big situation, “Listen, doll, this has come as a shock. Right out of the blue. I’ll have to think up a battle plan.”
“Battle plan, what dae ye mean? You have to marry me Johnny McGrath, then we’ll aw live happy ever after. You, me and the baby. Ah’ll be a good wife and mother, ah promise.” Johnny led her to her close and kissed her on the cheek, “Look, Lorraine, you’ve just sprouted this on me. Let me think about it and ah’ll get back to you.” She pleaded with him, “Soon Johnny, sooner rather than later, for the baby’s sake.” He walked through the darkness just thinking that a future with Lorraine would be far darker.
Chapter 32
PISH
Johnny mulled over his problems for a couple of days. What the hell was he going to do about the Lorraine and baby situation? How was he going to deal with the McCoy vengeance squad? Also, his father had turned up, out of the blue, with some cock-and-bull story about his cruise ship having engine trouble.
He realised he was surrounded by lies and deceit. It was just past 8pm and he was walking down his tenement stairs, armed as usual with his hammer tucked into the waist of his trousers. How he loved his hammer! At times it had been a life saver getting him out of scrapes that could have left him a defeated man if he had not resorted to using it quickly and effectively. As he neared the ground floor he could hear the sound of men’s voices and the sound of heavy urination.
Sure enough, two drunk men were pishing up his close. Johnny shouted to them, “Hey boys don’t pish up ma close, use the back court. Some poor wee woman has got tae clean aw your pish up.”
One of them, a fat scruffy looking man in his 50s, zipped his fly up and said, “Sorry about that pal, we were bursting and when you’ve got tae go, you’ve got tae go!” Johnny replied instantly, “Ah know but dae me a favour, pish somewhere else in the future.” The other man, in his 40s, wearing a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, was far more intoxicated than his friend. He sort of staggered towards Johnny shouting, “We’ll pish where we want, ok?” Johnny pulled out his hammer, “Well if ah see ye here again, you’re gonnae get this.” The fat guy was taken aback. There was no way having a pish was worth having a hammer over the head. He pulled his partner in crime away shouting, “Come on, Bobby, let’s get to fuck oot o’ here.” But Bobby was far gamer, far drunker than his friend.
“Ah’ll go when ah’m ready, no’ when ah’m told tae. That hammer disnae frighten me a bit, ah used tae be in the army you know.”
“Aye, the fucking Salvation Army,” Johnny retorted. At first he had thought of giving the two men a quick doing but there was something in their brave demeanour he liked. Two middle age men still as game as fuck! He always admired old guys who were still game. He just wished that he would be like that when he eventually submerged into middle age. Nevertheless he raised his hammer and said, “Ok boys, are you going or what? Or dae ye want me tae knock the fucking daylights out of you?”
The fat guy sobered up, saying to his pal, “For fuck’s sake, Bobby, ah don’t think he’s bluffing.” They made off into the street with Bobby shouting, “He disnae scare me, ah fought tougher men when ah was in the Highlanders.” It was a brief interaction, but Johnny believed they had got the message, they would not be pishing up his close again. To use a pun, he was glad they had
pissed off.
Out in Crown Street, he glanced up and down. There was the odd drunk staggering about and a few of the Cumbie gang members were having a bit of banter just up the street. Two dogs were humping outside the George Cinema. A woman from a nearby tenement came out with a bowl of cold water and threw it over the mongrels shouting, “Get away tae fuck ya dirty beasts.” Johnny laughed to himself, just thinking if the same wee woman had thrown a bucket of water over him and Lorraine at the back of the Railway club, he would not be in the bother he was facing.
Suddenly he saw his father approaching, perfectly sober and perfectly dressed as usual, “Hey, come on son, let’s a have a quick pint,” he shouted. They headed into the nearby Wheatsheaf pub.
They sat down in the corner with their pints, “Johnny boy, ah’ve got a wee confession tae make,” his father said, “Ye might have guessed ah hivnae really told you the real story why ah’m not working on the boats.”
Johnny replied, “Ah could tell straight away you were telling porky pies. So, what’s the score man? The real story?” His father looked nervous as he sipped his pint, “Well, to tell ye the truth, ah got the tin-tac, the sack.”
“What for?”
“For fiddling”
“But you always had a wee fiddle on the go, what happened this time?”
“Ah got careless. Ah was supposed to put ma tips into a box like everyone else so that they could be shared out at the end of the cruise, but ah was just pocketing ma own tips.”
“But you’ve been doing that for years.”
“Too true, but a new restaurant manager took over, a right bastard, an Italian. It was him that fired me when he found out about ma tip scam.”
“So, what’s your next move?”
“Ah’ve been up tae the Bromielaw, trying tae find a new boat. Ah went tae the seaman’s union office and the union guy there says he’s gonnae try tae get me reinstated, saying the tip fiasco was a misunderstanding.”
The Incredible Rise of a Gorbals Gangster Page 18