The Lost Boy and The Gardener's Daughter: The Glasgow Chronicles 3

by Ian Todd

  “I went to Culrain Primary School with Morven. Remember?”

  “Bit, by that time…when ye left Culrain…ye wur awready intae the routine ae hivving servants…strangers…wiping that wee rich arse ae yers, before ye goat packed aff tae the rich schools…or in your case, rich jails. Wance yer maw and da ran oot ae plates, they’d nothing mair tae sling at each other, apart fae ten-pound notes, so yer maw fucked aff wae somewan else. Ye wur then dragged oot tae America or Africa or some other strange place, where ye ended up in wan swanksville school efter the other, which ye didnae like and which obviously didnae like a wee snivelling rebellious brat like you. Ye’ve been mad at yer ma and da ever since, although ye’re no sure which wan ye hate the maist. The only reason ye want tae go back tae America, is because that’s where ye think yer hame is…because that’s the only place ye know. If ye’d ended up living wae yer da when they broke up and he’d sent ye tae America some summer tae be wae that ma ae yers, ye’d probably be planning and scheming o’er there tae get back here.”

  “I don’t thin…”

  “The problem, as Ah see it, is that ye don’t really hiv a hame, because ye’re too busy fighting wae everywan and their dug that’s trying tae make ye wan.”

  “That’s rich coming from you.”

  “Aye, well, we’re no as far apart as whit ye’d like tae think we ur.”

  “I don’t lie, steal or hurt people?”

  “Is that right? So, who wis responsible fur wrecking yer ma’s swanky hoose in New York and daubing o’er her good painting? No forgetting aw the lies that hiv come oot through they pearly white straight teeth tae that auld man ae yers and being an accessory wae me in stealing the Landy that ye’re noo sitting in, enjoying the lovely view. Shit, there’s pals ae mine daeing time fur hauf ae the crimes ye’ve committed. Talk aboot a law fur the rich and wan fur the poor.”

  “So, Morven told you about the painting, did she?”

  “The party and the painting? Oh, aye…Ah pished masel laughing when she telt me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it wis good tae know that ye might no be the sour-faced angry wee stuck-up rich bitch that everywan believes ye tae be and that there might jist be a sense ae humour in there somewhere.”

  “And is that what everyone thinks of me?”

  “Ah don’t know…probably.”

  “And is that what Morven thinks?”

  “Well, she never said anything like that tae me, bit then again, why wid she? Ah’ve only jist met her.”

  “Well, she may have shared that story with you due to the fact that she’s infatuated with you…probably loves you…and despite what I said to her about you on the numerous occasions that I tried to persuade her that you were nothing but trouble, she defended you.”

  “Well, maybe she did say ye wur a thankless cow every noo and again.”

  “Did she?”

  “Naw, Ah’m only kidding ye. She wis the same tae me aboot yersel. Whenever Ah slagged ye aff…which wis a lot…she defended ye up tae the hilt.”

  “She’s a lovely person.”

  “Whit ur these mountains called? They’re something else, so they ur,” Paul wondered, moving his face closer tae the windscreen and looking up.

  “Well, we’ve just gone past The Torridon Hotel, so I guess they must be the Torridon Mountains.”

  “Did ye clock that wee graveyard back alang the road a bit?”

  “The one beside Annat?”

  “It reminded me a wee bit ae the churchyard at Croick. The place surrounding it is pretty barren, yet oot ae the widwork, fae naewhere, ye’ve goat aw these people coming tae get planted there.”

  “That’s what graveyards are for.”

  “Aye, Ah know, bit why no get buried oot in the hills, oan the land, alang wae the animals and the birds, where ye’re free, insteid ae wanting tae be buried in a place surrounded by walls, in a place where nowan is ever gonnae come and weep fur ye being there in the first place.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about graveyards that way.”

  “Neither hiv Ah, until noo. Ah kin see why protestants wid prefer tae be cremated and their ashes scattered tae the wind. Here’s me thinking they wur jist too bloody tight-fisted tae pay tae be planted.”

  “Seemingly, it’s a sin to get cremated.”

  “Says who?”

  “At least for Catholics, it is.”

  “Says who?”

  “God…the Pope…priests.”

  Paul hid jist been aboot tae reply, as they wur approaching Shieldaig, when he spotted an amazing rock, jutting oot intae the water oan Upper Loch Torridon. He slammed oan the brakes and got oot ae the Landy, leaving the driver’s door open. Wan-eye took advantage and followed him.

  “Paul! Paul, what are you doing?” Saba screamed efter him in alarm, as she goat oot ae her side ae the vehicle.

  Paul jumped o’er the fence and took wan shoe and sock aff, then the other, before pulling his shirt o’er his heid and discarding it.

  “Paul, my God, are you alright?” Saba screamed, laughing when Paul unbuckled his belt, letting his troosers fall down aboot his ankles and stepped oot ae them withoot missing a step.

  “No…not those! Oh my God, we’re going to get arrested,” Saba screamed in laughter, looking behind the Landy tae make sure nae cars wur approaching.

  Paul jumped up oan tae the large rock that wis shaped like a giant mushroom.

  “Ah’m free! Ah’m Free! Freedom! Fuck ye all!” he screamed, erms ootstretched above his heid, as he turned tae face the north, the west, the south and then tae the east where Saba wis staunin.

  Wae a final bellow ae ‘Gerrit up ye!’ he launched himsel intae the air in a back-flip somersault and disappeared intae the water, creating a large splash that drenched Wan-eye, who wis jumping aboot, whining at him by the edge ae the Loch.

  “Paul, I asked you earlier who you are, but I suppose what I should have asked is, what are you?”

  “Me? Ah’m jist yer average, ordinary, dishonest scallywag.”

  “A scallywag? What’s that supposed to mean? It sounds like something out of an old pirate movie.”

  “A pirate, ye say? Aye, Ah like that wan. Paul, the poor suffering pirate, wae his wan-eyed dug and The Duke’s daughter, who he cannae shake aff, despite kidnapping her because her da, the rich Duke, his offered tae pay him the full ransom, and mair, tae haud oan tae her fur as long as he kin, tae gie him a well-deserved break,” he said, smiling, dripping wae water and gieing Wan-eye’s heid a shake wae his haun as he used his shirt tae dry himsel.

  “Well, it hasn’t gone un-noticed that you’ve placed a one-eyed dog above me in order of importance, but if you don’t mind, would you please put your pants back on?”

  “Oh Shit!” Paul yelped, remembering.

  Chapter Forty Eight

  “Ah wid’ve loved tae hiv been there fur the fight wae the two brothers though. Ah wid’ve still arrested the basturt, bit Ah wid’ve been tempted tae wait until efter the bell hid went aff fur the last time,” The Stalker said, smiling, as they passed the last hoose before heiding oot ae Dingwall.

  “No-one had seen anything like it. You’ve met George and Cameron. They aren’t exactly small and timid,” McTavish sighed, thinking aboot it.

  “Noo ye know whit we’re up against in Glesga. Aw these do-gooders sit and look at the age ae these wee thugs, thinking they’re jist wee weans, no hivving a clue whit they’re dealing wae.”

  “So, what was he like in Glesgie?”

  “A week or so before his twelfth birthday, he took an iron bar tae the heid ae a serving bizzy, who nearly died as a result ae it. Him and they pals ae his hid jist broken intae a tobacconist’s shoap in the area. Two ae them goat caught. His pal wis sent doon fur a month and oor Paul goat sentenced tae an approved school. While he wis waiting tae be transferred, himsel and another wee thug fucked aff fae the remand centre that they wur in. They put a chair through a windae while everywan wis eating their break
fast and went AWOL. The place is still running. It’s a well-known holiday camp where the inmates, aw toe-rags, get tae dae pretty much whit they want. The staff, despite daeing their best tae show them a bit ae kindness and understaunin, jist cannae control the unruly wans…and who could blame them when ye think ae who they’ve goat locked up in the place. Anyway, fur the next few years, Paul, who wis always oan the run, alang wae a right bunch ae thieving manky toe-rags, wreaked havoc in the area. They stole anything that wisnae nailed doon and caused grief tae every man, Jack and his dug. Masel and another sergeant wur shipped in tae replace the previous sergeants, a pair ae useless eejits who wur oan the make. By the time we arrived, oor Paul and the manky crew he wis running aboot wae, wur aw seasoned scallywags. Oor intelligence also picked up disturbing news that the boys, whose ages ranged between eleven and thirteen years auld, wur awready starting tae carry oot wee jobs fur the local big man, a guy called Pat Molloy…a right fucking deadly thug. Nowan knows how many people him and his henchmen hiv killed o’er the years, bit it’s plenty. Oor job…Finbar O’Callaghan and masel…wis basically tae clear the streets ae toe-rags. The street gangs wurnae too much ae a problem. Masel and Fin jist ladled intae them at every opportunity. Wance enough heids hid been cracked…and believe you me, there wur plenty…we turned oor attention tae Paul and his pals. Everywan referred tae them as The Mankys.”

  “What was the difference between Paul’s gang and the other street gangs?”

  “They wur a different kettle ae fish fae the neds that wur running aboot stabbing and slashing fuck oot ae each other every night. Naw, this wee manky mob wur always money-motivated, so they wur. We wurnae too sure if there wis a hierarchy in the group, although wan ae them, a right mental psycho called Tony Gucci, seemed tae be the leader. Oan either side ae him, ye hid Paul and another mad plonker called Joe McManus. Underneath that pair wis a right space-cowboy called Johnboy Taylor. He wisnae as bad as the three Ah’ve jist mentioned, when it came tae dishing oot the hidings though. Naw, it wis Taylor’s maw ye hid tae watch oot fur. She’d go fur ye in a flash if ye even looked at her or her blue-eyed boy the wrang way. We never came across her auldest boy, who wis always in the jail, bit he wis a cop-basher tae. Alangside Taylor wis another wee weird psycho they called Silent. He never said a word, bit wisnae shy ae getting involved in everything that wis gaun oan. Who knows where he popped up fae, bit we know he wis the wan that went oan the run wae Paul fae Larchgrove, the remand centre that Paul pissed aff fae, no long efter he wis sentenced fur the assault oan the bizzy. This wee mob wur no in the least bit shy, believe you me. They’d thieve, set businesses oan fire and when they felt like it, seriously assault anywan who goat in their way, and Ah’m no talking aboot daft wee boys like themsels either. The Mankys didnae gie a monkey’s tit whit age ye wur. If ye crossed them, they’d hit back,” The Stalker assured matter-ae-factly.

  “It doesn’t sound like the Paul who’s been staying in the strath.”

  “Don’t get me wrang, Swein…these toe-rags could charm the rattle aff ae a rattle snake and then come back fur its two front fangs.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, but to risk going into the ring with two of the local heavies and beating them unconscious to fund the cost of medication for a dog...surely that says something, doesn’t it?”

  “Ye’re falling intae a trap. In Glesga, people wid starve rather than let their manky dugs and cats go hungry. The priority is fags, pets, weans and then the men folk. Ye hiv tae really look at the situation regarding the boxing match. Wis anywan really surprised that McBride wiped the flair wae they two big clowns?”

  “People couldn’t believe what they were witnessing.”

  “Look, train a blind man tae fight southpaw and he wid’ve knocked that pair ae big Jessie’s oot. McBride knew that. Ah’ve known him and his pals fur mair than a few years noo. Ah’ve read the reports and Ah’m telling ye, this wan wis born a fully-fledged alley cat. He disnae dae anything…and Ah mean anything, that isnae calculated. He might come across as a poor wee misunderstood youth who wis unfortunate tae hiv hid a misspent childhood, bit he’s a fly-man. Ah’ve goat a wee bit ae a reputation in Glesga as being a bit ae a stalker masel, that’s why Ah wis sent up here, because Ah know how he thinks. Wan time masel and Fin wur tracking him and his pals doon. We knew they wur holed up in the tenements in the Toonheid that wur aboot tae get demolished, bit we couldnae figure oot which wan. We hid tae scroll through The Corporation’s list ae empty hooses tae check which wans they wur in.”

  “How did that work?”

  “Basically, wance we goat the latest list, we’d go aboot watching the tenements tae see whit wans hid smoke coming oot ae their chimneys. If we saw smoke coming oot ae the chimney oan the roof and found oot the building wis empty, then we assumed that it must be them. The only problem wis that some ae these auld tenements hid six or even eight hooses up the same close. If there wis still legit people in them, we hid tae try and calculate whit chimney pot oan the roof belonged tae whit hoose. Anyway…and Ah kid ye not…while Ah wis stalking oor Paul and his pals, he wis bloody stalking me, wid ye believe? It took me a while tae suss oot whit wis gaun oan though.”

  “Why did you not just arrest him?”

  “Because getting him oan his lonesome wid only put wan ae them oot ae the game. Naw, whit we wur efter wis the whole lot ae them.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “Ah turned the tables and let him stalk me aw he wanted, while at the same time, Ah kept oan his tail. We captured the mute first before nabbing Taylor. Efter that, it wis jist a matter ae being patient. The point Ah’m making is, don’t be fooled by this thug. Him and they pals ae his are bloody deadly, so they ur, and someday, everywan will wake up tae that fact, bit by then it’ll be too late tae dae anything aboot it. Ah’m still trying tae figure oot his game plan, and believe you me, he’s goat wan. There’s absolutely no way, in a month ae Sundays, that Paul McBride is helping that young lassie tae run away, irrespective ae how much she’s offered him, withoot there being something else gaun oan in the background. Ah’d stake ma life oan it, so Ah wid. Swein, Ah don’t want tae sound dramatic here, bit that lassie’s life is in danger. He’s working her fur some reason that Ah’m jist no sure ae at this precise moment in time, bit we need tae get oor skates oan and find her before they hit Glesga.

  Chapter Forty Nine

  They hidnae spoken much tae each other since Paul’s early bath beside the mushroom rock. Paul wis locked in his ain thoughts and he assumed she wis the same. The only words spoken between them hid been when he’d telt her no tae waste her time trying tae get a signal aff ae her tranny and where they’d nearly toppled the boat aff the trailer and doon an embankment when a car, towing a caravan, hid come roond a sharp bend, jist before Lochcarron. Paul hid tried tae reverse back tae a passing place a couple ae hundred yards behind him, bit hid only managed a few feet before the trailer hid ended up hinging aff the edge ae the road. He’d explained tae the guy and his wife that there wis nae way he could reverse back and the guy hid admitted that his reversing skills wur as bad as Paul’s. Efter a wee confab, they’d unhooked the caravan and pushed it back a couple ae hunner yards until they’d reached a bit ae the road where they could pass each other. Paul hid telt them that they wur brother and sister and they’d jist been tae collect their da’s new boat that he’d bought in Gairloch and that they wur taking it tae Lochcarron. The four weans wae the couple hid asked if they could come and see the launch. Thankfully, the da hid telt them that Lochcarron wis in the opposite direction tae where they wur gaun. Efter aboot a hauf hour’s delay, they’d managed tae get oan their way again.

  Wance they hit Lochcarron…as anticipated…Saba decided tae try and take o’er.

  “Stop!”

  “Whit fur?”

  “Stop right here or I’ll scream!” she threatened, as Paul pulled in across the road fae The Lochcarron Inn.

  “I need to go to the rest-room, brush my teeth, have a bath and s
omething to eat.”

  “Right, fine, bit no here.”

  “Where then?”

  “Ah don’t know, bit no here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it disnae feel right, that’s why. It’s too exposed. Anywan wid be able tae clock the boat fae a good bit aff,” he replied, looking aboot, scanning the horizon.

  “Look, you’ve already had a bath…I haven’t. I’m tired, I’m hungry and I need out of this smelly vehicle.”

  “Ah’ve only goat four pound odd fur the ferry fares and some fuel.”

  “I’ve got money. You can do what you want but I’m going to see if they have a room. Are you coming or not?” she challenged him, lifting her bag oot fae behind her seat and opening the door.

  “Saba, ye’re a pain in the arse, so ye ur,” he grumbled, opening his door and following her towards the entrance, leaving Wan-eye tae look efter the Landy.

  “Hello, I wonder if my brother and I can have a room each for the night, please?” she asked the auld bird behind the reception desk pleasantly, who looked like she wis aboot a hunner year auld.

  “Och, I think we just have the one room, my dear, and it’s got a double bed in it,” she said, turning roond and looking at the board full ae empty hooks, except fur wan marked ‘Room Seven’ that hid a key hinging fae it.

  “Oh, er, we’ll take it,” Saba said quickly, in case Paul changed his mind.

  “Oh, I’m sure modesty won’t be too much of an issue seeing as you’re brother and sister. When I was young…before I was married…I shared a room with my two sisters and a brother before I eventually left home. Please sign in with your name and address and car registration number,” she said, haunin Saba a nib pen while flipping up the lid ae a Parker’s inkbottle.