by Todd, Ian
“Me? Yer wee maw…hate the polis? Noo, whitever gied ye that idea? Ah jist don’t like the way The Corporation uses them as an instrument tae keep aw us wummin doon, so Ah don’t.”
Pearl hid always wanted tae go back and ask her maw whit she’d meant, bit by the time she’d goat roond tae it, she’d been auld enough tae suss it oot fur hersel. She’d heard that The Stalker hid jist goat some sort ae promotion. Helen Taylor and Issie McManus, a couple ae her maw’s best pals, hid been roond at her hoose the night before, discussing whit wis happening wae Helen’s election. It hidnae taken that maw ae hers long tae get oan her soapbox.
“Hiv ye seen that Stalker wan, running aboot wae shiny new braids oan they shoulders ae his as if he’s a bloody general?” her maw hid come oot wae before Helen and Issie hid even unbuttoned their coats.
“Who? The Stalker? Oor Stalker?” Helen hid asked.
“Noo, whit in heaven’s name wid they go and promote a creepy basturt like him fur, eh? Ye wid’ve thought there wis plenty ae other even bigger shitehooses tae promote, rather than that pervo,” Issie hid exclaimed, relishing the slagging match.
“Ach, he’s no any better or worse than the other wans we’ve dealt wae o’er the years,” Helen hid come oot wae.
“See, there ye go, Helen…defending the indefensible, so ye ur. Ur ye sure ye hivnae goat some sort ae saft spot fur that peeping perverted prick?” her maw hid chided.
“Me? Aye, ye’re right, Sharon. Me and The Stalker, that wid be some wedding photo, so it wid,” Helen hid said, as they’d aw cackled.
“Did ye ever get yer good bar towel back fae him then?”
“Whit bar towel?”
“The wan ye gied him tae stoap the bleeding efter wan ae the lassies scudded him at Mary Porter’s warrant sale up in Kendrick’s Street jist before Christmas?”
“Oh, that? Christ, Ah’d furgoat aw aboot that. Ah jist hope he disnae find oot that Issie hid been slobbering and blowing her nose intae it aw that morning before Ah gied it tae him tae put in his gub tae stoap the bleeding, eh?” Helen hid said, as the three ae them cracked up laughing again.
Pearl arrived safely oan tae the pavement oan the other side ae Springburn Road in wan piece, despite a bus driver speeding up, hoping tae catch her oot. She pushed open the lounge door and wis immediately engulfed in the escaping heat and Jeff Beck belting oot ‘Hi Ho Silver Lining’ o’er the chatter ae her pals, who wur sitting in the corner in a big semi-circle, opposite the lounge door. There used tae be a speaker up oan the wall in that corner, bit wan ae The Mankys hid taken it doon efter the lassies hid complained that they couldnae hear themsels hivving a good chin-wag wae the racket coming oot ae it. Alex The Manager didnae seem tae hiv noticed that it hid gone, despite the square white patch, staunin oot like a sore thumb, oan the red velvet flocked wallpaper. The lounge wisnae that big, bit it wis big enough tae accommodate Pearl and her pals at wan end while The Mankys hung aboot doon at the far end, closer tae the bar and the toilets, where they hammered oot their shady deals. When she stepped through the door, she automatically glanced doon tae where The Mankys wur.
“Whit? Hiv ye lost something then, Pearl?” Helen Birnie shouted.
“Naw, naw, Ah wis jist hivving a wee swatch, tae see who wis aboot,” she replied, squeezing in between Aggie McCoy and Senga Jackson, her best pal.
“Ye’re no still fancying that bag ae bones, Johnboy Taylor, ur ye?” Frances Smith shouted oot loudly, as Pearl looked aboot, aghast, in case Johnboy heard her.
“Ach, don’t worry, Pearl, Ah jist saw him nipping intae the bog, so Ah did,” Senga said, gieing her knee a wee squeeze and a reassuring smile.
“And by the way, Frances, Ah never said Ah fancied Johnboy,” she lied.
“Oh, Pearl, shut yer arse...everywan knows ye fancy him, don’t we, girls?”
“Aye!” they aw shouted, laughing and throwing their damp cardboard beer mats at her.
“Ah never did! When hiv any ae youse ever heard me saying that, eh?”
“Ye telt me the other night there, so ye did. In fact, if ma memory serves me well, ye even said that if he disnae invite ye tae the pictures soon, then ye’d ask him yersel,” Senga said, laughing.
“Arghhhh!” Pearl screamed, slapping her pal oan the shoulder, as the lassies aw laughed, bursting intae the chorus ae ‘Hi Ho Silver Lining.’
“Uh, oh, don’t look, bit lover boy is heiding this way, so he is. Quick, act casual, Pearl,” Paula Baker hissed, exaggerating her best casual pose.
“Hellorerr, girls. Whit ur youse aw hivving then?” Helen Taylor’s youngest asked them.
“Oh, hello, Johnboy,” Pearl said wae a dazzling smile, as aw the lassies fell aboot laughing.
“Whit? Hiv Ah goat dribbles or something?” Johnboy asked them, wae a big grin spread across his coupon, looking doon at the fly oan his troosers.
“Here ye go, Johnboy. That’s everybody’s, except fur Pearl here,” Frances said, haunin o’er a bit ae paper wae everywan’s drink written oan it.
“Whit ur ye fur, Pearl?”
“A date?” Helen suggested.
“Sorry, Ah’m taken. Did Ah no hear that ye wur gaun oot wae Silent, Helen, or his he dumped ye as well?” Johnboy asked, laughing.
“Johnboy, she meant Pearl, ya eejit, ye.”
“If Pearl wants a date, she only needs tae ask. Isn’t that right, Pearl?” Johnboy retorted smoothly.
“Ah’ll hiv a hauf pint ae lager and lime, Johnboy,” Pearl said, glaring at her pals, who wur aw sitting there nodding towards Johnboy, willing her oan tae ask him oot.
“Aye, mind you, ye wur definitely drunk when ye said ye wur gonnae ask him tae take ye oot, Pearl,” Senga said loudly, as Johnboy heided aff tae get them a roond ae drinks.
“Ah bloody hate aw youse, so Ah dae. Dae ye think he saw the beamer oan that face ae mine?” Pearl asked them, still feeling her face burning.
“No under these shite lights. Bit they freckles? Well, even a blind man widnae miss them oan a dark night,” Frances said, enjoying hersel.
“Frances, ye’re still such a cow, fur somewan who’s been dumped by yer last three boyfriends,” Pearl retorted.
“Er, it wis four,” Frances laughed, as the voice ae Bob Dylan howled aboot somewan wearing his Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat through the speakers as Johnboy arrived back wae a tray ae drinks.
“Here ye go, ma wee bunch ae dandelions.”
“Dandelions? Ur they no whit gardeners call ‘pish-the-beds?’” Aggie asked.
“Ach, well, never mind, Alex telt me that he goat the seats up in this corner specially lined wae polythene sheeting underneath the fabric when he goat them re-covered a few months ago, jist tae save the other punters getting a wet arse efter youse hiv vacated the premises,” Johnboy replied.
“So, Johnboy, where ur ye taking Pearl then?” Frances asked him.
“Frances!”
“Aye, well, ur ye sure ye’ve goat the right boy? Dae ye no mean Snappy? He’s goat a saft spot fur wee Pearl...at least, that’s whit he telt me,” Johnboy replied, body swerving the subject.
“Ignore them, Johnboy, they’re jist winding ye up, so they ur,” Pearl said, blushing.
“Don’t ye worry, Pearl. Ah know whit their game is, so Ah dae,” he said, before swaggering back tae they pals ae his.
“Frances, Ah bloody-well hate ye, so Ah dae, ya cow, ye.”
“Ach, Pearl, Ah’m only hivving a laugh, so Ah am.”
“Aye, don’t worry, Pearl, Ah’ve been there and back and believe you me, it wisnae anything tae write hame aboot,” Aggie McCoy quipped, tae sniggers.
Pearl wanted tae lean o’er and tear the eyes oot ae Aggie’s face. If she didnae hiv tae hing aboot and hiv a chat wae Senga aboot the social worker, she wid’ve left. She found it difficult tae haud back the tears. She’d fancied Johnboy Taylor since she wis aboot twelve, even though he wis nearly two years aulder than her. She’d hardly ever seen him due tae the fact that when she wis younger, he always se
emed tae be oan the run fae approved schools and mair recently because he’d been away in borstal. When she wis twelve and he wis oan the run, she’d asked him if she could write tae him, bit he’d telt her he couldnae remember the address ae the approved school he’d been oan the run fae. Oan her thirteenth birthday, he’d sent her a massive teen birthday card fae wherever it wis he wis hiding oot while trying tae avoid the polis. ‘Hiv a nice birthday, Freckly’ it hid said and he’d even put a wee x as a kiss mark oan it. When she’d showed it tae her maw, she’d opened the card and put if up tae her nose, sniffed it, before declaring “Aye, Ah knew it. Ah kin smell the diesel. He’s probably been stripping electric cable fae across oan some railway depot, so he his.”
No long efter receiving her birthday card, Pearl hid heard that he wis lying low in the Toonheid and her and Senga hid dogged school wan day tae go and see if they could track him doon. It hid never occurred tae her that she widnae hiv hid a clue whit tae say tae him if she’d found him. Her maw and Helen used tae tease her aboot her crush oan him.
“Ignore them, Pearl, they’re only winding ye up. So, whit’s the score wae that horrible boss ae yers then? Did ye manage tae hiv a word wae her?” Senga asked.
“Aye, she’s chomping at the bit, so she is, bit we’ll need tae watch her though.”
“Oh, by the way, Ah read that new wummin’s page ye said ye wur helping oot oan, Pearl,” Paula said.
“Did ye like it?” Pearl asked her.
“It wis shite, so it wis. Who the hell could afford tae buy aw that kind ae stuff?”
“Well, ye’re sitting decked oot in Biba, Paula,” Senga reminded her.
“Aye, bit Ah never bought it masel. Jake goat it fur me. Dae ye like it?” Paula asked, looking adoringly doon tae the other end ae the lounge, where her boyfriend wis showing aff his favourite party piece ae swallying doon a pint ae lager fae the other side ae the glass, withoot using his hauns.
“God, they’re actually pretty simple-minded fur a bunch ae up-and-coming big tickets, so they ur,” Frances said, as the lassies smiled at the cheers fae the boys, when Jake spilt hauf a glassful ae his lager doon the front ae his Arthur Black’s made-tae-measure shirt.
“So, whit’s that new boss ae yers like then?”
“Ach, she’s awright, Ah suppose.”
“Ye suppose?”
“Well, at first glance, she comes across as a stuck-up tramp fae Dennistoun, who’s obviously done good by marrying the posh, rich bloke who writes the motoring column fur the paper and who’s long forgotten where she originally came fae. Then when ye get tae know her, low and behold, she is a stuck-up tramp fae Dennistoun who’s obviously done good by marrying the posh, rich bloke who writes the motoring column fur the paper and who his long forgotten where she originally came fae,” Pearl said tae laughter.
“Ah hate stuck-up cows like that. Ah worked wae somewan exactly like her who wis so bloody pathetic, so she wis. She thought she wis the bees-knees because she came fae Springboig and hid a garden the size ae a postage stamp. Christ, Ah couldnae make oot whit she wis garbling oan aboot hauf the time wae that false accent ae hers,” Paula volunteered.
“Aye, it’s the converts that ye hiv tae watch oot fur.”
“Senga, ye’re no still thinking aboot approaching that social worker wan tae gie her side ae the story, ur ye?” Aggie asked.
“Aye, why?”
“Why? Er, how aboot, if the shoe hid been oan the other fit, dae ye think she’d gie a toss fur somewan like you?”
“Oh, Ah don’t know aboot that.”
“Of course ye dae. When his anywan sitting here ever met a social worker who’s no a right horror, eh?”
“Well, horror or no, Ah feel really sorry fur her, so Ah dae,” Senga replied defensively.
“The problem wae you, Senga, is that ye’re jist a saft touch, so ye ur. Why risk yer job, yer career, oan somewan who widnae pish oan ye if ye wur oan fire?”
“Oh, Aggie, ye don’t hiv a clue whit ye’re oan aboot. Ah’d defy anywan sitting here tae say they didnae feel sorry fur her, efter whit she’s been through,” Senga retorted.
“Ah don’t think Aggie’s saying she widnae feel sorry fur her, Senga. It’s jist because ae who she is…a social worker. Is that no right, Aggie?”
“Exactly.”
“Hiv ye no read aw the stuff in the papers aboot her? She sounds like a real man-eater, so she dis,” Paula said.
“There’s a lassie at ma work who his heard, oan good authority, because she knows somewan who knows somewan else that worked in the same office as her, who said she’s slept wae every single client she’s came in contact wae through her work, so she his,” Helen said, knowingly.
“And Ah heard that her man, the prison governor, wis behind the shooting, so he wis. It seems he paid a couple ae hard guys, fae up in the Bar-L nick, tae go and shoot that Tam Simpson and that patient ae yers, Senga,” Aggie said, whispering.
“Sounds a bit iffy tae me, Mary,” Pearl came back wae.
“It isnae any mair iffy than whit Helen his jist come oot wae,” Aggie retorted indignantly.
“So, whit’s she like then, Senga?” Mary asked, as everywan looked at Senga.
“It’s hard tae say really. She disnae talk.”
“There’s a surprise,” Aggie murmured.
“Naw, naw, she cannae talk because ae her injuries. Ah talk tae her, and if she wants tae reply, she writes it doon oan a wee pad she keeps by her bed.”
“Will she ever be able tae talk again then?” Frances asked.
“They’re no sure. She’s hid a couple ae major operations so far, bit she’s goat plenty mair tae get. They’re also no sure if she’ll get blood poisoning as they couldnae get aw the pellets oot ae her because ae where they’re sitting.”
“Why wid she get blood poisoning?”
“Seemingly, the pellets in the shotgun cartridge used tae blast her in the neck wur made ae lead and the lead kin contaminate yer body, so it kin. She hid hauf a dozen pellets in her intracranially...which means in her skull, by the way...and that’s whit’s worrying them as that kin be really dangerous, due tae them being in contact wae her cerebrospinal fluid. Even if she disnae end up suffering fae lead toxicity, she’s still goat a few pellets sitting in her subcutaneous tissue...that’s the bit jist under her skin...so she’s still no oot ae the water yet, so she’s no.”
“Christ, that sounds really bad. Will she live?”
“Right, none ae ye kin repeat this tae anywan, because the polis and the hospital ur no broadcasting her injuries, bit it wis a miracle she survived. When the shotgun went aff, she wis staunin behind that Tam Simpson. Obviously, he caught the worst ae it, bit seeing as she wis staunin right behind him, she copped her whack maistly oan the neck and the bottom part ae her jaw. As well as blasting her neck, which is in some mess, by the way, she lost hauf ae her bottom teeth oan the right haun side. They’ve goat her jaw wired shut, bit she’ll need tae go through reconstructive surgery tae try and get her face back tae some sort ae semblance ae whit it wis like before the damage wis inflicted.”
“So, how dis she eat then?”
“She gets fed through her stomach by an abdominal feeding tube. She’s also goat a tracheotomy tube and whit they call a right sub-clavian central venous catheter through her neck intae her throat tae help her breath. They’re still no sure if she’ll ever get her voice back,” Senga whispered tae the hushed group.
“Is that no terrible?” Aggie said, looking aboot and breaking the silence.
“Ah thought ye jist said ye couldnae gie a fuck aboot her, Aggie?”
“Aye, bit Ah widnae wish that oan anywan...no even a social worker, so Ah widnae.”
“Ah must admit, that first week efter she came roond efter her operations, Ah used tae leave her room in tears, especially when she saw whit the papers wur aw writing aboot her,” Senga said.
“And ye want tae be a journalist, Pearl?” Frances asked, accusingly.
“Aye, bit no
that kind ae journalist.”
“Whit other kind is there? Look at the shite they wrote aboot Helen Taylor?” Frances reminded everywan, tae nods.
“Anyway, Ah’ve goat really friendly wae her, so Ah hiv. Aye, she’s a social worker who’s probably taken weans aff ae hauf the wummin in the city, bit she’s only human, so she is.”
“Dae ye think she’ll go fur this then?” Aggie asked.
“Whit?”
“That mad plan you and Pearl hiv cooked up that’s gonnae get ye sacked?”