Parly Road: The Glasgow Chronicles 1

by Ian Todd

  “Put your hands up, one under the other,” Batty hid ordered, looking at him in disbelief and rage, as Johnboy cackled away apologetically.

  “Ah cannae help it, sir,” he’d whined, giggling like wan ae Tony’s floozies fae the picture hoose.

  “Right, I’ve had enough of this. Don’t bother turning up for school tomorrow. You’ll be expelled until you accept your punishment. Before you go home today, come to this office and collect a letter from me, which will explain your unacceptable conduct to your parents. In the meantime, go back to your class and do not…I repeat…do not let me hear that you are causing any more disruption in my school. Do I make myself clear?” Batty hid roared, telling Johnboy tae get tae fuck oot ae his office.

  Before he’d heided back up tae his class, Johnboy hid nipped oot ae the doors beside Batty’s office that led intae the boys’ playground, tae see where Lord Charles hid disappeared tae. There hid been nobody there, apart fae a couple ae scabby doos wandering aboot in circles and a big seagull being chased by an even bigger wan, trying tae get the Smiths’ crisp packet that it wis carrying in its beak aff ae it.

  Johnboy hid heard his class getting louder as he’d goat nearer. When he’d opened the door and stepped through, Olive Oyl hid been staunin oan tap ae a chair, waving her hauns aboot as if she wis trying tae fly. Withoot breaking her rhythm, she’d sent him tae his seat wae nods fae her chinless chin. The racket hid been a cross between cats getting lollypops stuffed up their arses and Johnboy and his mates being made tae take a bath mair than wance a fortnight. She’d hid the first row singing ‘London’s Burning’. Wance they wur oan their way, she’d goat the second row tae start, and then the third and then the fourth. Hauf the class wur seriously enjoying it, while the other hauf wur seriously taking the pish, by deliberately becoming a fifth, sixth and seventh row. Olive wis flapping her erms aboot like a banshee and glowering at the wans who wur deliberately sabotaging her music session. Normally, Johnboy wid’ve been in his element, bit he’d hid three things swirling aroond in that heid ae his at the time.

  First aff, the love ae his life, Senga Jackson, who wis sitting oan the seat next tae him, who’d gied him a wee sympathetic smile when he’d sat doon, hid caused him a bit ae grief earlier that morning. It hid been her tenth birthday and when Olive hid asked them aw tae sing ‘Happy Birthday’ tae her, Johnboy hid made an arse ae himsel by singing at the tap ae his voice. The place hid gone silent and then everywan hid aw pished themselves laughing at him. Senga’s ma worked wae Johnboy’s as a school cleaner. Under threat ae violence, his ma hid made him buy a card and a box ae Maltesers, tae gie her as a birthday present, fae the scramble winnings that he’d picked up aff the pavement at the weddings doon at Martha Street Registry Office. When he’d tried tae gie them tae her earlier, efter making a right arse ae himsel, she’d refused point-blank tae take them and aw her mates hid laughed at him. Olive Oyl hid made the situation worse, as usual, by making a big deal oot ae it in front ae everywan in the class, trying tae persuade Senga tae take them. Baith ae their faces hid been bright red and Senga widnae look at him efter that. He jist couldnae understaun why she didnae want the good Maltesers though. He’d turned and looked at her when he sat doon and wondered whit she’d say if he asked her if he could stick that tongue ae his doon the back ae her throat.

  The second thing oan his mind that morning that hid distracted him fae enjoying Olive’s singalong hid been whether he’d been imagining seeing Tony Gucci doon at the windae in Batty’s office. He’d wondered if it actually hid been Lord Charles that he’d clocked efter aw, although he couldnae figure oot how a dummy wid come tae be peeking in the windae ae Count Dracula’s office.

  The third thought swirling roond in that napper ae his hid been how he wis gonnae escape wance school finished? There wur two main escape routes oot ae the place. Wan wis the wee gate doon the side ae the dining hut, which took ye oot oan tae McAslin Street and the other wan wis the front gate, which took ye oot oan tae St James Road. Tony, being pretty sharp and an ugly tae boot, wis bound tae be waiting fur him at the dining hut entrance, he’d reckoned. That left the Fat Fingered Flickerer at the front. There hidnae been any debate as far as he wis concerned. He wid rather get beaten up by Blubber Boy than by Tony Gucci, any day ae the week.

  When the school bell hid gone aff, he’d heided tae Batty’s office tae grab his letter. He’d known something wis gaun oan when Fat Boy’s pals hid avoided eye contact wae him and he wis getting funny looks fae everywan else. By the time he’d been shouted intae Batty’s office, the school hid emptied.

  “Right, Taylor…one last chance. Are you going to accept your punishment like a real man?” Batty hid challenged.

  Johnboy hid jist looked at him, bit hidnae really been taking any heed ae whit he’d been rabbiting oan aboot. He’d been too busy wondering aboot the best escape route oot ae the place.

  “Have it your own way then,” Batty hid growled, haunin o’er the broon envelope.

  Chapter Two

  Efter killing time, slowly putting the letter in his school bag and dragging his feet, Johnboy hid eventually heided oot intae the playground and doon the stairs tae the lower level. He could see Blob Boy and his pals waiting fur him. There hid been a buzz that died away wance he reached them. Fat Boy hidnae wasted much time. He’d come charging across and hid started squaring up tae Johnboy.

  “Right, Taylor, ya poof, ye! Let’s see ye spit oan me noo.”

  “Fuck aff, Lard Boy. Ah’m no fighting ye,” Johnboy hid pouted, hoping that wis enough tae send him packing, howling in fear.

  The first punch hid landed oan the side ae Johnboy’s napper. It hid felt like somebody hid hit him wae a hammer. The next wan hid caught him oan his chest. He wis sure he’d heard a wee yelp when Fat Boy’s fist hid landed that time. Fatty hid then goat haud ae Johnboy’s school bag, wae him still attached tae it, and hid swung him aroond before suddenly letting go ae him. He’d ended up tumbling across the playground like an empty beer tin. Efter a few kicks tae Johnboy’s side and arse, Fatty hid started bellowing and banging his chest wae his hauns, imitating Tarzan. Johnboy thought he’d probably jist done that tae impress they pals ae his who wur staunin there enjoying the show. He wis right glad that there hidnae been any lassies, especially Senga, oan the go at the time.

  “Gerrup, ya basturt, ye!” Fat Arse hid wheezed at him.

  There hid been no way Johnboy wis gonnae get up. He’d awready decided that it wid be much safer tae lie where he wis. Apart fae the punch tae that heid ae his, he hidnae really been hurt. It hid been o’er before it even started really. Fatty Arbuckle and that gang ae his hid jist walked away, laughing and talking excitedly amongst themsels. Johnboy wisnae sure how long he’d lain there, although it couldnae hiv been fur mair than a minute. Jist as he wis getting up oan tae they skint knees ae his, he’d felt a pair ae hauns helping him tae staun up. When he’d looked roond, he’d jist aboot pished himsel. Tony Gucci hid been staunin there in the flesh.

  “Aw jeez, kin ye no see Ah’ve awready hid a doing, Tony?”

  “Aye, Ah’m sorry Ah’m late. The teacher made me hing back fur skipping oot ae class earlier or Ah wid’ve been here before noo. Ur ye awright?” Tony’d replied, looking aboot at the empty playground.

  “Aye, it wis a fat basturt called Milne that did it.”

  “Aye, Ah know. Ah wis trying tae get a haud ae him earlier, bit goat caught hinging aboot in the playground by wan ae the teachers, when Ah wis squinting through Batty’s office windae. That’s why Ah’m late in getting here.”

  “Whit his the teachers here goat tae dae wae you?” Johnboy hid asked him, feeling confused, obviously due tae the punch he’d recieved oan his heid two minutes earlier.

  “Dae ye no know? Ah’ve been slung oot ae The Baby Rock. Nowan else wid take me, so they put me here. Ah started this morning,” he’d said smiling.

  “Bit, Ah thought ye wur a Catholic?”

  “Ah am.”

  “So, ye’re noo
at ma school, and ye’re no efter me either?” Johnboy hid laughed wae relief.

  “Why the hell wid Ah be efter you?”

  “Ah’ve been bloody expelled because Ah laughed when ye wur looking in Batty’s windae, ya prick, ye. He thought Ah wis laughing at him. Ah thought ye wur Lord Charles, the puppet. And where did ye get that wan-eye glass fae?” Johnboy hid asked him.

  “Ah found it in a box that ma da keeps oan tap ae the wardrobe, alang wae his dirty magazines. Dae ye like it?” he’d said, putting it oan.

  There hid definitely been a resemblance tae Lord Charles. Johnboy hid tried tae put it oan himsel, bit it hid kept falling aff, which might’ve hid something tae dae wae the fact that his face hid jist been in a fight wae King Kong’s wee brother.

  “Right, let’s go,” Tony hid announced aw ae a sudden.

  “Where tae?”

  “Tae get that prick.”

  “Whit prick?”

  “The fat basturt that jist beat ye up.”

  “Whit dae ye mean?”

  “Ye don’t think we’re gonnae let Fat Arse get away wae that, dae ye?”

  “He’s wae a gang ae his mates,” Johnboy hid blurted oot, panic rising in his voice.

  “Even better.”

  “Bit he’ll be well gone.”

  “Don’t ye worry aboot that. He’s goat a paper-run up aboot Stanhope Street. Ah see him aw the time efter school. Ah live across the back fae him.”

  “Bit, wid we no be better tae jist leave it at that? He goat whit he wanted,” Johnboy hid pleaded, even mair panic in his voice.

  “Listen, Johnboy, that fat prick will be back fur mair. Before ye know it, ye’ll be haunin o’er yer play-piece, then it’ll be yer money and then aw yer fags.”

  “Ah don’t smoke,” Johnboy hid confessed miserably.

  “Ye know whit Ah mean.”

  “Ah’m no sure this is a good idea. Ah’ve awready been expelled.”

  “Look, if ye’re gonnae run aboot wae me, ye’ll hiv tae wise up and trust me. Whit’s it tae be?” Tony hid asked him, looking straight intae Johnboy’s eyes.

  Even though Tony hid been staunin wae his fists clenched, his stare wisnae threatening. It wis the kind ae look that Lassie used when she didnae want the wee boy tae go through the door, bit through the windae insteid.

  “Whit dae ye want me tae dae?” Johnboy hid said at last, as a big smile appeared oan Lord Charles’s coupon.

  “First aff, we need tae get oor arses moving. Fat Arse will be daeing his paper roond, so we’ll need tae catch up wae him pronto.”

  Efter heiding up Parson Street, they’d turned intae Taylor Street and hung aboot in a closemooth fur aboot five minutes. Every noo and again, they’d looked up and doon the street tae see if Fatty Arbuckle wis aboot. Johnboy hid also been looking tae see if Senga wis oan the go, as she lived oan Taylor Street. Her da drove a beer lorry fur Bass. Fat Arse wisnae anywhere tae be seen. They’d then gone through the closemooth that they wur staunin in and jumped o’er a couple ae dykes, which hid taken them oot oan tae Stanhope Street. The smell ae horseshit wafting oot ae the stables hid made their noses crinkle. There wis still nae sign ae Blob Boy and Johnboy hid started tae feel hopeful that Tony wid gie up. They’d continued through the closes and back courts, straight across St Mungo Street and intae the backs again, coming oot oan tae Glebe Street. Jist as they’d sauntered oot through the close, they’d bumped intae Senga and her buck-toothed pal. Senga hid looked surprised tae see him as she probably hidnae clocked Johnboy up at that end ae the Toonheid before.

  “Hello Johnboy,” she’d said, smiling.

  “Hellorerr Senga,” he’d replied, remembering the showing-up he’d received in the class when she’d knocked back his good Maltesers earlier that day.

  He’d jist been wondering whit her response wid be if he went intae his school bag and offered her the chocolates and card, when he’d goat side-tracked by Tony, who wis staunin behind her and her pal, jist oot ae eye-shot, making shagging movements like some dirty mongrel.

  “Whit ur ye daeing up here?” she’d asked Johnboy.

  “Ah’m jist oot playing wae ma pal,” Johnboy hid replied, trying no tae burst oot laughing and wishing they wur oan their ain.

  “Whit? Wae him?” she’d asked, raising up wan eyebrow and ignoring Tony.

  “Aye, we’re looking fur Fatty Milne,” Tony hid said fae behind her.

  “Whit dae ye want wae him then?” Senga’s pal hid enquired.

  “Johnboy goat intae a wee bit ae bother wae him at school the day and we need tae talk tae him so they kin sort oot their side ae the story before they meet Batty Smith at school the morra,” Tony hid volunteered.

  Baith ae the lassies hid turned fae Tony tae Johnboy, looking fur confirmation oan whit Tony’d jist said.

  “Oh, aye…Ah wis supposed tae meet him efter school tae talk aboot it, bit Ah hid tae get a letter fae Batty,” he’d said, as convincingly as he could, withoot bursting oot laughing, as Tony hid started daeing his shagging dug routine behind their backs again.

  “We jist clocked him roond in McAslin Street a couple ae minutes ago,” Senga’s pal hid telt them helpfully.

  “Aw, that’s great, so it is. Thanks fur that. We widnae want tae miss him noo, wid we, Johnboy?” Tony hid said, gieing Johnboy his best Vincent Price stare, before cantering away towards McAslin Street.

  Johnboy hid jist stood there, looking at Senga. He wis sure she’d looked jist as shy as he’d felt.

  “Johnboy, ur ye coming?” Tony hid shouted fae ootside The Broons Bar oan the corner.

  “Right, Ah’ll hiv tae go. It wis nice seeing ye, Senga.”

  “Johnboy?”

  “Aye?”

  “Thanks fur the offer ae the Maltesers and card this morning. It wis really nice ae ye.”

  Wance again, he’d wanted tae go intae his bag, and gie her the box ae chocolates and card, bit Tony’s voice hid gone up a couple ae levels.

  “Johnboy, Ah kin see him!” he’d squealed, clearly excited.

  “Ye’re welcome,” Johnboy hid said tae her, as she and her pal turned and skipped aff, up the street.

  “Right, here’s whit we hiv tae dae. See that close o’er there tae the left ae Scabby Annie’s? He’s jist went in there,” Tony hid growled, efter Johnboy caught up wae him.

  Johnboy hid looked across. There hid been a waft ae fish and chips floating across the road, bit nae sign ae a fat wobbling arse.

  “We’ll wait until he appears oot ae the close and goes up the next wan. We’ll need tae be quick though,” Tony hid murmured, scanning the tenements opposite.

  Jist as Tony said that, Johnboy hid spotted Tarzan coming oot ae the close. He’d still been wearing his uniform and shiny shoes, wis whistling like Tweety Bird and hid two bags slung crisscross across his shoulders wae his Evening Times and Evening Citizens poking oot ae the tap ae them.

  “Follow me!” Tony hid hissed excitedly, as he hauf walked and hauf ran across the road tae the door ae the chip shoap.

  Johnboy could hear and jist make oot the shape ae Scabby Annie through the steamed-up glass windae. She’d been emptying a basket ae chips intae the sizzling fryer, when Tony hid shot aff again. Jist as they wur aboot tae reach the closemooth, the whistling hid goat louder and Johnny Weissmuller’s fat son hid appeared oot ae naewhere. Luckily fur them and unluckily fur him, he’d turned right when he came oot ae the close, heiding in the opposite direction, before disappearing up the next wan. They’d stood frozen fur a few seconds, before Johnboy hid trailed efter Tony intae the closemooth. It hid been quite dark, and it hid taken a few seconds fur his eyes tae adjust. Tony hid been staunin at the far end, tae the left ae the main stairs, his white face and hauns ootlined in the middle ae the door that led doon tae the back court. He’d motioned wae his haun fur Johnboy tae move up beside him. There wis a couple ae doors facing each other wae nameplates oan them and Johnboy could hear people moving aboot inside.

  “Right, listen up, Johnboy…don
’t mess aboot noo. Dae whit Ah tell ye and it’ll aw go fine and dandy, so it will,” Tony hid whispered.

  “Ah need a shite,” Johnboy hid whimpered back, as his stomach and arse started tae churn.

  “Fur Christ’s sake, Johnboy, jist wait a few minutes,” Tony hid hissed back.

  They’d baith looked upwards towards the ceiling as the thumping ae a baby hippo’s feet could be heard bounding doon the stairs, two at a time.

  “Ah cannae,” Johnboy hid whimpered hysterically in a high-pitched whisper.

  Tony hid grabbed him, while pushing the door behind him open. He’d jist managed tae shut the door quietly behind them as the clumping ae fat feet sailed past oan the other side ae the door. By the time Whistling Willie hid disappeared oot ae the front ae the close, Johnboy wis squatting doon oan the tap step, his troosers at his ankles, wae the skitters shooting through the air and landing oan the middle ae the ninth step wae a watery gushing splat. The second whoosh hidnae been quite as impressive as the first wan. That hid only made it tae the sixth step…although there wisnae any shame tae that, Johnboy remembered thinking tae himsel at the time.

  “Hell’s teeth, Johnboy, get a move oan, will ye?”

  “Ah’ll need tae wipe ma arse wae something,” Johnboy hid groaned as he opened his school bag and looked inside.

  The only things inside hid been the box ae Maltesers, Senga’s birthday card and the letter fae Batty Smith, addressed tae his ma and da. He’d ripped open the broon envelope, whipped open the folded letter and hid jist caught a fleeting glimpse ae Batty Smith’s fancy signature, before gliding it across that bare arse ae his. Who wid’ve thought he wid’ve been glad tae see that name?

  “Right, let’s go!” Tony hid said, haudin his nose wae the fingers ae his left haun, as he disappeared back intae the closemooth, followed by Johnboy, fastening up his troosers wae his new snazzy snake belt.

  Tony hid peered oot ae the front ae the close tae see where Fat Boy hid disappeared tae, while Johnboy stood behind him nervously, catching a strong whiff fae the back ae the close. He’d jist been thinking that he wis sure that he’d shut that door behind them when Tony wis aff, daeing his Tonto routine again. By the time Johnboy hid goat aff his mark, Tony hid awready been hauf running across the street, past Fat Fingered Finkelbaum’s pawn shoap oan the corner ae Stanhope Street, before disappearing up the close between The McAslin Bar and The Fruit Bazaar. By the time Johnboy hid caught up wae him, it hid been as if they hidnae moved fae the other close, except that this wan didnae smell like the Stinky Ocean up in Cuddies Park.