The Incredible Rise of a Gorbals Gangster

by Colin MacFarlane

  Johnny really could not have wished for a better best man than good old dependable Malky, “the salt of the earth” to many people. As he walked over the Jamaica Bridge to the town, to look at wedding suits, Malky put a pertinent question to his pal. “Dae ye really love this bird Cathy? I heard ye had a wee thing going wi’ that other bird, Lorraine. In ma book Lorraine is a real cracker, but ah suppose Cathy is as well. How did you make your mind up between the two?”

  Johnny had to be careful with his reply. His pal did not know about Lorraine being pregnant but was aware that Cathy was up the stick. He put on his most convincing voice that made him sound extremely frank, “Malky, you know ah’m a bit of ladies’ man. Always have been, always will be. But when Cathy told me she was pregnant, ah had tae give Lorraine the heave-ho, the big elbow. She’s a smashing looking bird and ah think you should have a go at winchin’ her.”

  Malky turned red in a state of nervous embarrassment, “Dae you really think ah’ve got a chance wi’ Lorraine?” Johnny laughed, “Of course you have, Malky boy. You’ve got a lot of assets. Maybe not in money, but you’re not bad looking, you’ve got gear, patter and you can sing. A lot of women would love to be on your arm.” Malky chuckled, his confidence had just been boosted. “Well it would make a change fae all the polis being on ma arm!”

  “Getting a bird like Lorraine might just settle you down.”

  Malky contemplated the words for a few moments, “So, when dae ye think ah should make the first move?”

  “After the wedding. Being a best man involves a lot of preparation and thinking. After that, you can do your Romeo stuff.” They walked around the city centre and checked out a few tailors. They found one near St Enoch Square and bought two black suits, shoes, ties and hankies. When they tried their suits on, they looked in the mirror and admired themselves. Malky quipped, “We look like a couple of New York gangsters!” Johnny smiled,” We are gangsters, Malky boy, Incredible Gorbals gangsters!”

  Johnny paid for the gear in cash and decided to go to Paddy’s Market for some boiled ham ribs and then they would do a pub crawl. Paddy’s Market was very busy but they found a couple of spare seats in a wee café, tucked between a sneezing old age pensioner and down-and-out type who reeked of booze and pish. The ham and ribs were delicious. “Just what the doctor ordered!” Malky declared. As they were about to finish the meal, Johnny noticed two youths enter the other side of the café. They were dressed immaculately in handmade shirts, Levi Sta Prest trousers and Doc Marten boots. But they were certainly not the younger members of the Cumbie, they had Tongs written all over them. Johnny felt his heart pounding. One of the young guys he recognised. But from where? He said to Malky, “Those two bampots there, have you seen them before?”

  Malky squinted his eyes and looked towards them. “Yeah, they’re the young Tongs, we fought them a while ago.” He was sure he recognised one of them, a guy of about 17, with an arrogant gangster air about him. The waitress, a fat woman in her late 60s, had a fag hanging out of her mouth and went over to the youths, “Can ah help ye, boys?” “Aye” said the youth, “Two big plates of soup and mince and tatties.” “Certainly dear,” she replied, “By the way, where are you two fae?” The youth smiled and replied in a comical voice, “The Gallowgate. Tongs ya bass!” The waitress laughed and hurried off to fetch her order.

  It was then that it dawned on Johnny, the teenager was the guy who had thrown the razor blade potato at him during the Glasgow Green skirmish. Johnny said to the waitress, “Two teas, doll.” He looked at his pal and said, “Back in a tick, Malky.” In the lane outside there was a man selling fruit and veg. “The cheapest fruit and veg in Glesga,” he was chanting. He said to Johnny, “Can ah get ye something son?” Johnny picked up a large potato and said,” Just this.” The fruit and veg seller looked bemused, “Just wan tottie? You’re no’ exactly planning a banquet, are ye son?” Johnny laughed and much to the man’s surprise handed him a pound note and said, “Keep the change.” The man was dumbfounded and thanked him for his generosity. Across the lane there was another fellow, clad in what looked like rags, selling razor blades, “The best dig in the grave (shave) you will ever have,” he was shouting.

  Johnny bought a packet of razor blades and stood in a dark doorway in the lane. He inserted two blades into the potato and then threw the rest of the packet away. He walked back into the café where Malky was sipping his tea. Johnny sat down. Malky said, “Where are we off to after this?” “We’ll have our first pint in The Old Ship Bank pub. There’s always a good wee sing song and then we’ll head over tae the Gorbals,” Johnny replied. The warmth of the tea made him feel more optimistic about life. They chatted about inane things for a few minutes, the usual stuff, Celtic and Rangers and Jock Stein.

  The two young gangsters had not noticed Johnny and Malky but if they did they did not show it.

  Both of the youths were laughing loudly. One said to his pal, “Got tae see ma granny after this before the auld bastard dies. She’s got a dodgy ticker. Three heart attacks and two fits, but still going strong. The auld cow had got some constitution.” His pal joked back, “Ah bet ye she has another heart attack when she sees your dial.”

  They laughed loudly and left after paying the waitress.

  Johnny said to Malky, “Right, man, let’s move. Ah’ve got a wee bit of business tae finish.” Malky shrugged his shoulders and looked bemused, he could never predict Johnny’s behaviour.

  They walked behind the Tong boys as they headed out of Paddy’s Market in the direction of Glasgow Cross. Johnny pulled the potato out of his pocket and threw it full force at the youth who had put him in hospital. Thud! Bang on!

  He gave out a loud shriek and fell to the pavement with the potato stuck in his back. His granny would not be seeing him that day. Malky was shocked at the sudden move but said nothing. They went into a side door to the The Old Ship Bank pub. Malky ordered two lagers, he was shaking slightly. Johnny sat at table watching the singers on the small stage. Malky said to Johnny, “What the fuck was that all about?”

  Johnny gulped back his pint, “Oh, nothing, just a wee score ah had tae settle.” More booze flowed, more ‘Mick Jaggers’ went down their necks. All their troubles seemed to disappear in a sea of alcohol.

  Malky took to the stage singing his favourite… Rave On. “Rave on it’s a crazy feeling…” It seemed a perfect end to a rather imperfect day. In a sense they were both raving mad.

  Chapter 44

  SAWMILLS

  While in the midst of his wedding preparations, Malky turned up with what he thought was good news. He had landed a labouring job with South Side Sawmills. He encouraged Johnny to join him. Johnny was well aware of the sawmills, as a lot of his classmates from his old school worked there. The money was not that bad by Gorbals standards and the job did not involve using much brainpower. It was basically 9-5 shovelling sawdust and humping wood about. Malky had just finished his first week and was enthusiastic about his workplace. “What’s it like?” Johnny asked. Malky laughed, it was the laugh of a madman, “Ach it’s no’ the greatest job in the world but it’s a doddle. A bit of heavy labour now and again and a bit of sweeping up sawdust but its steady and the money is there at the end of the week. It’s nice tae have a pay-packet every Friday, better than being on the fucking dole signing on wi’ aw the losers.”

  Johnny was sceptical, “Are the people you work wi’ any good or are they a bunch of wankers?” Malky got straight to the point, “It’s like being back at school, the only thing is you have to clock on. If you go even a second over your card goes from black to red, then they deduct your wages for being a late timekeeper.”

  Johnny showed a flicker of interest, perhaps the sawmills would provide him with a way out of becoming an enforcer for Cathy’s father. It was a job he was not frightened of doing, but a career he did not relish. He may have considered himself a gangster but professional gangsters like Bobby were a different breed. They seemed to live in a different world, both psyc
hologically and physically.

  Their psychology was – get the money by any means and that physically meant they would beat the shit out of anybody who got in their way. When Johnny meditated on becoming a lowly labourer it had a certain sort of appeal. It was a proper working-class job with enough money to keep a family, not in an ostentatious fashion, but a Gorbals fashion. This meant he would have to work hard and live frugally. He looked at Malky earnestly, “Come tae think of it, ah widnae mind joining you. It sounds like an adventure, maybe a good laugh.”

  Malky was pleased at his friend’s decision, “Yeah, the boys will be over the moon when you join the workforce. You’ll be a like a breath of fresh air in that place.” Johnny was sceptical about the observation but said, “So, how can ah go about getting a start then?”

  His pal was quick off the mark, “Ah’ve already had a word wi’ the “midget”, Alex Johnstone. Remember him, that wee bachle who was at school wi us?” Johnny tried to recall and it suddenly came to him, “What, that fucking dwarf? He was a real teacher’s pet.”

  Malky nodded his head, “Aye, well he’s now a boss and has a bit of clout in the sawmills. He said he’ll get ye a start, nae bother, when ye want.”

  Malky shook his pal’s hand as he left. Johnny sat down in the kitchen and thought about where his life was going. He felt deflated. So this was his destiny, married to Cathy, living in the high flats, providing for an unwanted baby by working his bollocks off on low pay as a labourer in the sawmills. Suddenly his young brother Joseph appeared, just back from school in a perky mood, “Hey, Johnny, guess what the teacher told me today?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, he said he had a look at ma exam results and reckons ah’m gonnae be a lawyer in the future.” Johnny felt more depressed, “Right enough, you’ve got the brains for it. But what sort of lawyer you gonnae be?

  Joseph gave a childish laugh, “What do you think? A criminal lawyer. I’ll defend aw the big crooks in the High Court and earn plenty of dosh doing it. Ah could be the Gorbals answer tae Perry Mason!” Johnny thought about his own future job prospects and felt even more depressed. He said to Joseph, “So, does that mean if ah ever get intae trouble in the future, you’d defend me for nothing?” The surprising thing was he was serious about the question.

  Joseph laughed in a mocking way. He knew instinctively that his big brother was on a losing streak, he could read him like a book.

  “Defend you for nothing? You’ve got tae be joking. Family is family and business is business. Ah’ll go into law for the money, no’ friendship or family.”

  “Oh aye, and what are ye gonnae dae when ye get aw this money?”

  Joseph almost mocked him, “Ah’ll have a big car, a pretty bird, a nice house and go on holiday tae places like the Caribbean.”

  “What, is Saltcoats no good enough for you?

  Joseph became even more cocky, “Ah widnae piss on that place if it was on fire!”

  Johnny felt his temper rise, “Look, get tae fuck oot o’ here otherwise ah’ll kick your arse all over the Gorbals. Ah’m sick tae death of your lawyer patter, so beat it!” Joseph gave a mocking laugh before leaving the kitchen. But in a way, he was frightened of Johnny’s temper. He had seen him many times in action and had no doubt about his brother’s violent capabilities.

  Johnny sat about and brooded. Perhaps he should run away and fuck them all. Fuck marrying Cathy! Fuck the sawmills! Fuck the Gorbals! But he had to get a grip, had to regain his composure.

  He heard the front door open and his father walked in. He was his usual chirpy and exuberant self, “So, how’s the condemned man? No’ long before you get the biggest life sentence a man can have. Marriage.”

  Johnny sort of cheered up when he heard this patter, “No bad, da. Ah’m still preparing. We’ve got the suits, and the chapel and reception are being arranged.” His father looked pleased, “Good, son, ah honestly think settling down will be the making of you. You’ll enjoy settling down instead of running about wi’ that Cumbie gang.”

  Johnny nodded his head in meek agreement, “So, what’s the news about the boats? You got any chance of a job yet?”

  “Ah went up tae the union guy this morning. He said we’re taking the case tae a tribunal and reckons ah’ve got a good chance of winning ma job back. What about you? Thought about work yet now that you’re due to be a married man?”

  Johnny gulped. He struggled with the words coming out of his mouth, “Malky has had a word wi’ the gaffer at the sawmills. He went tae school wi’ me, more or less said ah could start as a labourer anytime.”

  His father nodded his head and smiled, “The sawmills? That’s no’ a bad wee number and it’ll suit you with a young family.” His father went over to a cupboard in the corner, pulled out a bottle of Eldorado wine and placed two glasses on the table. He poured the Gorbals elixir into the glasses and said. “You’re looking a wee bit down in the dumps son. Let’s have a bevvy.”

  After a few sips Johnny instantly felt better. His father turned on more patter to cheer him up, “They say that getting married is the triumph of hope overcoming experience. Ah hated it at first but once you have weans like yourself come along, it changes things for the better.”

  “But da, ah don’t know if ah’m the marrying type.” Johnny said. His father smiled in agreement, “Ah didnae know either. Like you, ah was a man about town, wild and as game as fuck. But when ah met your mother everything changed for the better. Ah dropped ma wild ways, so marrying was good for me.”

  “Dae you think it’ll be good for me?”

  “Oh aye, but it’s like serving an apprenticeship. Time makes it more worthwhile.”

  “But ah’ll have tae give up leading the Cumbie and work in the sawmills, it’s doing ma head in.”

  His father talked in a soft voice, “It’s time ye gave up the Cumbie anyway, let another younger guy take over. Stay in the sawmills until you get fed up and look for another number. It’s as easy as that son.”

  The wine and his father’s advice rejuvenated Johnny’s spirits. Perhaps his fate was not so bad after all. The strong wine made his father more loquacious, more mischievous, it always did, “How do you know when your wife has died?”

  “Dunno.”

  “Well the sex is the same but the dishes keep mounting up in the sink.”

  Johnny felt bevvied and headed to his bed for a kip. There was a drunken man outside in the street singing, “Love and marriage, go together like a horse and carriage…”

  He put his head on the pillow and had a dream that he and Cathy were in a field of red poppies as the sun shone brightly down. In the background, Lorraine stood with a breadknife in her hand watching their every move

  Chapter 45

  WEDDING

  The wedding wasn’t a grand affair but by Gorbals standards it was quite a do. Johnny arrived early with his best man, Malky, who was sporting a black eye. The night before they had got into an argument and followed a guy into the toilets of the Mally Arms and gave him a kicking. The guy was no mug though and managed to kick Johnny in his wedding tackle before hitting the deck. He grappled with Malky, punching him in the face, thus the black eye. As Johnny walked to the chapel, his testicles hurt but he hoped they would be in full operational order when it came to his honeymoon, five days in a caravan on the Ayrshire coast. Bobby McGee often used the caravan as a hideout for himself and his cronies. It was not a bad habitat, two rooms, a kitchen and a small toilet. Indeed, its facilities were far superior to many of the tenement flats in the Gorbals.

  Johnny stood in front of the altar with his best man. They scrubbed up well for a couple of low life Gorbals gangsters. Johnny scanned the wedding congregation, many familiar faces on his side but there were a few dubious people sporting scars, presumably associates of Cathy’s father. The priest came over and shook Johnny and Malky’s hands, “Now, are you sure you’ve got the ring?” he said in his thick Irish brogue. Malky looked nervous for a few moments, fumbled in his j
acket pockets and eventually pulled out the gold wedding ring. Beads of sweat fell from Johnny’s head, “Thank goodness for that Malky, for a minute ah thought you’d lost it.” Malky was dismissive, “Nah, nae problem, it fell intae the lining of ma jacket. Murphy’s Law, man!”

  The bride arrived looking radiant. Cathy was wearing a cream coloured wedding dress, perhaps suggesting that this was not a virginal affair. There were a couple of old ladies nearby nudging each other and whispering as Cathy and her bump headed to the altar. Even in the 1970s a pregnant bride was still a wee bit of a scandal. And what do old ladies like? A scandal, of course. Cathy was accompanied by her father who was sharply dressed in a black wedding suit, complete with carnation, the other thing was he seemed to be dripping in gold. Most of his fingers had gold rings on them. Perhaps this was to signify that he was a Gorbals man of means. And perhaps, also to signify that the rings could be used as knuckle dusters if need be.

  The bride approached the altar and stood beside Johnny. There was no doubt about it, they were a very good looking couple. The wedding service went smoothly enough but at one point, Johnny became paranoid and imagined Lorraine barging in at any moment, like a scene from The Graduate movie, and try to steal him away. But it was all in his imagination, everything went to plan. Johnny was partly hung over from the night before and his balls still ached, so the wedding became a bit of a blur. Afterwards all he could remember was Malky fetching the ring and the priest saying, “You may kiss the bride.”