Parly Road: The Glasgow Chronicles 1

by Ian Todd

  Calum appeared, hauf running doon the bar before skidding tae a sudden stoap in front ae The Big Man.

  “Before ye start, Calum, staun fucking still, will ye? The last time Ah spoke tae ye, Ah ended up feeling seasick fur a day and a hauf efter, so Ah did.”

  “Aye, hellorerr Pat. Ah’ve jist spoken tae Frankie and it’s bad news, Ah’m afraid.”

  “Aw, don’t bloody tell me. Whit is it noo?”

  “Zanussi and the Frigidaires hiv pulled oot.”

  “Tell me ye’re jesting me.”

  “Naw, Frankie says wan ae them his went aff tae be a folk singer, wan his went aff tae work fur the BBC and the other wan went and goat hitched.”

  “Whit the fuck’s getting married goat tae dae wae playing in a group, the dirty fucking basturts!”

  “He says no tae worry though, as he’s goat a replacement that ur much better.”

  “He bloody-well better hiv. It’s jist as well Ah hivnae put the name ae the group oan the invites. See whit Ah hiv tae put up wae?” The Big Man snarled at Shaun.

  “Did he say whit the replacements ur called, Calum?” Shaun asked.

  “Aye, they’re called ‘Up The Duff’. He says they dae loads ae crooner stuff, as well as country and western.”

  “Ah’ve never heard ae them bit Ah like the name. It’s goat a nice wee ring tae it,” Shaun mused.

  “Tell him Ah want a repertoire fae him oan whit they sing as soon as possible. Ah’m no hivving any shite sung at ma maw and da’s anniversary.”

  “A whit?” asked Calum.

  “Whit?” The Big Man asked, looking at Calum, who’d started stretching fae side tae side wae his hauns oan his hips.

  “Ye want a whit fae Frankie?”

  “A repertoire, ya daft twat, ye. Dae ye no know whit a repertoire is?”

  “Naw.”

  “Shaun?” asked The Big Man.

  “Never heard ae it.”

  “Kirsty, tell these thickos whit a repertoire is.”

  “A song list,” Kirsty said, no looking up fae the How-Tae-Impress-Yer-Friends-By-Using-Big-Fancy-Words book she wis reading, insteid ae cleaning the pub like she wis brought in tae dae, due tae the fact that the cleaner hidnae turned up.

  “Calum, make sure he understauns the seriousness ae the situation he’s in if he disnae deliver a top class act. The party is only jist three weeks away.”

  “Aye, Ah’ll tell him, Pat. Anything else fur me tae dae?”

  “Ye kin gie Kirsty a haun tae square this place up. It smells like a shitehoose in here.”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Johnboy pulled himsel up oan tae the wall at the back ae the stables, keeping his bag ae trannys oot ae eye-shot behind his back as Joe and Skull wur sitting there, smoking and arguing o’er fitba and Jock Stein again.

  “Joe, ye don’t know whit the fuck ye’re talking aboot.”

  “It wis Jimmy McGrory who done aw the work in the first place. Ah’m telling ye, Stein wullnae dae any better.”

  “He’s jist won them the cup by beating Dunfermline, who ur bloody brilliant jist noo.”

  “That’s whit Ah’m staying, ya stupid fud, ye. It widnae hiv made much difference if McGrory wis still in charge. The results wid’ve been the same.”

  “Yer arse wid be the same. Ye wurnae at the fucking final.”

  “Whit’s that goat tae dae wae anything? Ye probably didnae see the game because ye wur too busy pick-pocketing every Celtic supporters’ fags and lighters fae their pockets during the match.”

  “Ah watched the whole game, knob-heid. Ah only dipped pockets oan the way in and in the toilets at hauf time. Ah saw Billy McNeil’s heider as clear as Ah’m looking at the big bloody pluke that’s aboot tae burst oan the side ae that nose ae yours.”

  “Piss aff, Mr Magoo, ya wee prick, ye!”

  “Aye, aye,” Johnboy said, as he joined the fitba commentators. “Ah see youse ur still supporting the same team, eh?”

  “That wee fud-face disnae know whit he’s talking aboot, as usual.”

  “Up yours tae,” Skull said, taking a puff ae his fag.

  “Ah could hear youse aw the way o’er the back there,” Tony said, plapping his arse doon, grabbing the packet ae Capstan full strengths that Skull hid sitting beside him.

  “That stupid basturt jist disnae know when he’s beat,” Skull said.

  “So? How did youse get oan then?” Joe asked.

  Johnboy could tell that Joe and Skull wur excited. It wis obvious they thought that they’d done better than Johnboy and Tony.

  “Oan ye go,” Tony said.

  “Fuck aff, Tony, we goat here first,” Skull said, reaching fur his fags.

  “Skull, Ah don’t know where the hell ye goat these fags fae, bit Ah hope ye didnae pay fur them, cause they’re bloody red rotten, so they ur,” Tony said wae his face twisted in disgust efter coughing fur aboot two minutes straight tae the sound ae laughter.

  “Whit dae ye mean? They’re good Capstan full strengths, ya cheeky basturt, ye. Nowan’s asking ye tae smoke them.”

  “Don’t change the subject. How did youse get oan?” Joe demanded, interrupting the pleasantries.

  “We goat five plus wan ae the special wans The Big Man wis efter,” Tony gasped through another coughing splutter.

  “Whit aboot yersels then?” Johnboy asked.

  “Three,” Joe said.

  “Three? Ah thought by the way youse wur acting that ye’d come away wae a lorry load or something.”

  “Ah, bit it wis better than that, wisn’t it, Joe?” Skull said, still wearing that ‘we’ve done better than youse’ look oan that ugly kisser ae his.

  “So, whit wis the better than that then?”

  “You tell us whit youse goat up tae first,” Skull said, relishing the fact that him and Joe wur up tae something.

  Between them, Tony and Johnboy explained whit hid happened the night before. Joe and Skull didnae say much, bit Johnboy noticed that baith ae their eyes lit up like pen torches at the mention ae the grill and the windae.

  “Aye, we hid the same problem. Aw they tranny shoaps seem tae hiv big grills slapped oan the front ae them,” Joe agreed.

  “Right, spit it oot before Skull pishes himsel...again,” Tony said tae laughter.

  “Aye, well, unlike some, we hid a nightmare oan oor hauns,” Skull started.

  “Ah don’t know where the fuck that driver thought he wis gaun, bit he turned up Alexandra Parade and then cut doon tae the right through Appin Road and Haghill, jist efter we passed Alexandra Park. He then heided towards Carntyne and Tollcross, cutting doon this street and that street,” Joe said, butting in.

  “The only shoaps we could clock wur newsagents and grocer shoaps,” chipped in Skull.

  “Wance Ah knew he wis heiding towards Tollcross Ah sussed he wis gaun south...”

  “So we jumped aff at the lights in Tollcross itsel and wid ye believe it? Another wagon wis sitting at the lights facing the other way, so we quickly nipped oan the back ae that wan, back intae the toon. We went past Glesga Cross oan the way in. Youse must’ve jist been roond the corner at your shoap by then,” Skull said.

  “The driver heided through the toon centre towards St George’s Cross and then oan tae a big street called Dumbarton Road. It wis like Aladdin’s cave. There wur shoaps oan practically every corner that seemed tae be stacked wae whit we wur efter.”

  “The only problem wis getting aff ae the bloody lorry. He seemed tae go fur miles before he stoapped at a traffic light that hid turned red,” Skull added.

  “Ah wisnae too bothered, seeing as whit Johnboy hid said. He wis right, the road jist went oan straight furever, fae the toon centre tae who knew where.”

  “When we jumped aff, we walked back a couple ae hunner yards till we came tae the last tranny shoap we’d clocked.”

  “Could we find a stank? Could we fuck,” chipped in Joe.

  “Aye, we searched everywhere. We wur up and doon aw the side streets bit there wis nothing,
although this turned oot tae be a good wee fluke. A couple ae days ago, Ah took a bag ae glass bools aff ae that fat pal ae yours and his mates, Johnboy. They wur sitting oan the corner ae St Mungo Street playing oan the holes ae a stank. Aw the bools they hid wur they wee glass wans wae wee coloured bits in the middle ae them. Amongst aw the wee coloured wans, there wis four ae the bigger bottle green wans though.”

  “Whit? The wans that hiv goat the markings oan them, as if they’re fitbas?” Johnboy asked.

  “Aye. Well, Ah wis really pissed aff wae us no finding a stank and when Ah put ma haun intae ma pocket, Ah came across some ae the bools rattling aboot.”

  “Is this dinger ae woe gonnae last aw day or whit?” Tony asked, taking wan last draw ae the fag before flicking it at Skull’s heid.

  “Fur fuck’s sake, Tony, that’s whit Ah’ve jist been talking aboot fur the last five minutes. Catch the fuck up, will ye, ya eejit, ye,” Skull growled, his heid swiftly disappearing doon intae his fitba jersey tae let the fag end whizz past him.

  “Anyway, the wee baldy basturt started throwing the bools at the windae above the grill...”

  “...and they jist exploded intae a thousand bits,” chipped in Skull.

  “...and then aw he’d goat left wis the bigger green wans,” said Joe.

  “Ah took aim and let fly.”

  “Bit the green wan wisnae high enough and pinged aff the glass through the grill in the middle ae the windae,” Joe continued, eyes blazing wae excitement.

  “Ah knew Ah hit it because Ah heard the thing ping and explode like the other wans.”

  “Ah started tae get oan tae him fur being as blind as a bat because Ah thought he’d missed the windae aw thegither, when he telt me tae hiv a wee look at the glass through the grill.”

  “There wis a tiny hole aboot the size ae a pea. It hid a ring aboot a quarter ae an inch aw the way roond it,” Skull said, haudin up his haun, making a ring wae his thumb and finger.

  “Like a big nipple oan a fat bird’s pap, ye mean?” Tony asked, as the rest ae them looked at him, wondering whit the fuck he wis oan aboot. “Ach, furget it,” he said.

  “Anyway, whit wis Ah saying jist before Ah wis interrupted…again?” Skull growled, making a big deal oot ae hogging the story, fur full effect.

  “Skull, Ah’m gonnae poke wan ae they beady eyes ae yours wae wan ae yer shite fags if ye don’t fucking hurry up and get tae the point,” Tony threatened, tae mair laughter.

  “Ah don’t know why, bit Ah telt Mr Magoo here tae try it again, and this time tae try and hit the windae above the grill. Of course, seeing as we know he’s the son ae Crisscross, he bloody missed and hit the windae a second time through the grill.”

  “Ye never telt me tae hit the windae above the grill the second time, ya lying prick, ye. It wis the third time ye telt me tae hit the basturt above the grill.”

  “So, anyway…sure enough, another big fat bird’s nipple appeared aboot two feet tae the right ae the first wan. It wis really strange.”

  “Wis it alarmed?” Johnboy asked.

  “Aye, bit there wisnae a cheep oot ae it at this point,” Skull said, nodding.

  “Oan the third throw...”

  “...which wis when he telt me tae hit the windae above the grill...”

  “…Ah telt Crisscross’s son here tae make sure he hit above the grill.”

  “…Bingo! Straight as a fucking dart,” Skull demonstrated by throwing an imaginary dart.

  “Sure enough, another ae Skull’s big sister’s juicy nipples appeared above the grill, bit no before dafty here drapped the last green bool doon a big water drain at the side ae the road. Kin ye believe that?”

  “Aye, bit the damage tae the windae hid been done awready, so we didnae really need that wan anyway.”

  “Ah still wisnae sure whit the fuck we wur daeing,” Joe continued, “bit Ah stood back and took a run at it. When Ah reached the front ae the windae, Ah continued tae run up the grill, like something oot ae the olympics and managed tae grab the tap ae it wae ma haun. At the same time as Ah wis daeing ma monkey impression, Ah gied the glass a thump wae that elbow ae mine before drapping back doon oan tae the pavement.”

  “Three big cracks instantly appeared between the nipples ae Joe’s maw’s tits,” Skull hooted, drooling wae excitement.

  “She’s only goat the two, ya eejit,” Joe fired back.

  “And wan ae yer ugly sister’s tae make up the three,” Skull shot back.

  Tony and Johnboy wur sitting back, pishing themsels laughing and enjoying the banter fae Laurel and Hardy. Johnboy still wisnae too sure whit the hell they wur oan aboot though.

  “We stood looking at the cracks, wondering whit the fuck wis gaun oan, when aw ae a sudden, Skull stuck wan ae they manky fingers ae his through the grill and pushed.”

  “The big triangle ae glass let oot a loud groan, jist as loud as when ye did yer last shite, Tony, and then it keeled o’er flat, intae the shoap front.”

  “It wis then that the alarm went aff. Ah didnae mess aboot either. Ah put ma back against the grill wae ma hauns clasped in front ae me and Skull took a run and wis up and in.”

  “The only problem wis when Ah landed. While there hidnae been a mess tae start wae, Ah landed straight oan tae the glass triangle so some poor deserving basturt will hiv hid a wee job tae dae, cleaning it aw up. The clanging ae the bell wis deafening so Ah jist grabbed whit Ah could and goat tae hell oot ae there like a shot.”

  “Dae ye think it wis a fluke?” Tony asked.

  “Whit?”

  “The glass cracking wae the bools pinging aff ae it?”

  “It wis a fluke finding oot aboot using the green bools, bit no aboot the glass cracking. Aw they windaes ur thick plate glass. Ah reckon we’ll be able tae dae this wae aw the shoap windaes fae noo oan,” said Joe.

  “And the beauty is, there’s nae noise…jist a wee ping. We won’t hiv tae depend oan big wagons rumbling past tae gie us cover fur the sound,” Skull said.

  “Bloody brilliant, so it is,” Tony exclaimed in wonder, as Johnboy and him looked at Joe and Skull in amazement.

  “And ye hid the cheek tae call me a dafty?” Skull said wae a big grin oan his coupon. “Ah should be the second in command ae this wee ootfit, y’know.”

  “Don’t worry, Ali Baba, ye’ve jist been promoted,” Tony said, winking at Johnboy and Joe, while Skull pushed the chest ae his Jags jersey oot wae pride.

  “See, ya pair ae dug’s baws?” Skull said tae Johnboy and Joe.

  “Ah cannae wait tae try it oot,” Johnboy said.

  “Well, if we kin blag some bools aff ae the fat boy and his mates the day, we kin try it oot the night,” Joe suggested.

  “Naw, we need tae get the trannys delivered and get the go-aheid fae Horsey John aboot a horse and cart fur Tuesday.”

  “We’ve goat plenty ae time tae try it oot before Tuesday, hiven’t we?” Johnboy asked the other two hopefully.

  Joe and Skull baith nodded, looking at Tony.

  “Naw, we don’t. We hiv tae see Horsey John or Tiny the day. We’ll need a couple ae days tae blag coal briquettes fae the plant and shift them fae o’er in Pinkston tae somewhere where we kin get the horse and cart up tae, tae pick them up. We cannae use the bascule bridge up at the tap ae Glebe Street. There’s too many hooses up there and people wid clock whit we’re up tae.”

  “So, how did ye get back intae the toon then?” Johnboy asked Skull and Joe.

  “We nipped oan a number sixteen bus that wis coming fae Knightswood, heiding fur Stobhill hospital…up near Colston. It took us aw the way intae the toon centre and drapped us aff oan Cathedral Street. It wis a piece ae pish,” Joe said.

  Jist then, they saw Horsey John and Tiny come intae view beneath them.

  “Hellorerr John. Awright, Tiny?” Tony shouted.

  “Whit hiv Ah telt youse aboot climbing up oan tae ma roof, eh? Get fucking doon before Ah come up there and kick yer arses, ya wee bampots,” Horsey John growled in welcome as th
ey aw jumped doon intae the stable yard.

  “We’ve goat a delivery fur ye, Tiny,” Tony said.

  “Whit kind ae delivery?”

  “Trannys.”

  “So, where ur they?”

  “Where’s yer dosh?”

  “How many hiv ye goat?”

  “Nine, and wan ae them is wan ae yer fancy wans.”

  “Whit, ye’ve goat a Globepacer?”

  “Naw, it’s yer Grand Prix GP nine-o-wan. It’s even goat a fancy red leather cover oan it.”

  “Is that right?”

  They could tell that the wee midget wis impressed.

  “Haun them o’er and Ah’ll get ye the money later,” the greedy wee fly-man said.

  “Tiny, you show us the dosh and we’ll haun o’er eight trannys at a pound each and two pounds fur the Grand Prix...as agreed wae The Big Man,” said Tony, reminding him.

  “Ah know fuck aw aboot this so it’s nothing tae dae wae me,” Horsey John muttered, limping away.

  “Aye, well, ye kin deduct five bob fur the horse and cart that we’ll be using oan Tuesday, while ye’re at it, Tiny,” Tony said loud enough fur Horsey tae limp back tae where they wur staunin.

  “It’s ten bob a day, and who the hell says youse ur getting wan ae oor horse and carts? The last wan ye goat wis shiting fur a week efter. Ah telt ye no tae feed her any crap bit ye widnae listen.”

  “Shaun said we could get a horse and cart fur five bob a day oan Mondays or Tuesdays until we pay aff the cabin.”

  “Aye, Ah heard ye’d bought that. Ye must be no right in the fucking heid. They brothers ae his will take every doo and hen ye put oot.”

  “Gluttons fur punishment,” Tiny chipped in, chortling tae himsel.

  “And you, ya daft wee scab...Ah wid’ve thought ye wid’ve known better,” Horsey John said tae Skull.

  “Aye, well, don’t ye worry aboot me. It’s no ma da they’re dealing wae noo,” Skull retorted.

  “Ah know fuck aw aboot any deal and until Ah dae, youse ur getting fuck aw horse and cart oot ae here. Noo, fuck aff, Ah’ve goat work tae dae.”

  Wae that, Horsey John limped away and heided in through the stable door, beside the office.