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

by Ian Todd

  “Ah’d be careful ae whit ye order, if Ah wis you,” he said tae her cheerfully, noticing her puffy eyes.

  She’d obviously been greeting. Serves her right, he thought tae himsel. Maybe she widnae be as quick tae slap people aboot in the future. A few minutes later, she returned tae her bag and radio, licking the dribbling ice cream ae her Ninety-Nine aff her fingers as it melted in the baking sun. She walked past, ignoring him, and opened the back door, before returning tae pick up her belongings so that she could dump them in the back. When she opened the passenger door and goat in, shooing Wan-eye oan tae the wee wooden box, that hid wan ae her Fair Isle jumpers covering it and the dug hid been using as a seat, she sat in silence, licking her cone and staring aheid. Paul wis gonnae ask her if she wis okay, bit decided no tae say anything as he wisnae too sure whether she wis ready tae erupt or she wis jist keeping quiet in case he slung her back oot oan tae the roadside. Efter ten minutes ae deafening silence, wae the exception ae the occasional song fae Mr Whippy’s radio across the way and the noise ae Saba taking the occasional slug oot ae the Irn Bru bottle, he started up the Landy and indicated tae nowan that he wis aboot tae move aff.

  “There’s a melting Mars Bar or a Flake there if ye’re hungry,” he said, swinging the nose ae the Landy oot oan tae the road.

  She never spoke fur ages, even when they stoapped at Laggan tae stock up oan some breid rolls, cheese, biscuits and dug food. It wis only when they turned right at the commando memorial at Gairlochy and Paul stoapped tae hiv a look at the commando statues, that she opened up.

  “I’m sorry for striking you in the face,” she said, as they sat eating a roll and cheese at the base ae the memorial. “That was unforgivable of me.”

  “Never felt a thing,” he replied warily, wondering whit the fuck wis coming next.

  “Of course, you were right...up to a point.”

  “Oh, aye?”

  “I did feel attracted to some of my mother’s boyfriends. Although they were all much older than me, they were nearer my age than hers. Some of them were really quite dishy too.”

  “So, did ye get aff wae any ae them?”

  “No, but there were times when some of them made it plain that they were interested in getting to know me better…if you know what I mean,” she replied, a wee faint smile appearing at the side ae her mooth. “The recent one…the one she’s now engaged to…is so sleazy. I can’t stand him. He makes my flesh crawl. The majority of them were only after her money and the ones that were not, she dumped because she got bored with them. She seemed to be attracted to the bad boys. When I made friends…older friends who were male…she became a nightmare. She would tell me they were not good enough for me and that she didn’t want me to hang about with bad boys, or that they were too old. She criticised my choice of music, even though she’d slept with half the lead singers in the groups that I had in my record collection. The arguments were horrendous.”

  “Maybe she didnae want ye tae end up like her.”

  “She said that she wanted me to marry into the Ivy League…one of the great American families…anything below that was a non-starter, as far as she was concerned.”

  “Did she ever try and get aff wae anywan ye fancied yersel?”

  “Oh, yes. It was like a blood sport, as far as she was concerned. I never invited any of my male friends around. I was always scared to mention anyone I liked. If I did, she’d turn up a couple of days later and tell me to forget him as he was hopeless in the sack. Can you imagine the embarrassment of your mother telling you that your idol was lousy in bed? When I was about twelve, there was a teacher at my school who all the girls used to fancy. We’d leave silly little love-notes on our desks for him to find. He looked a bit like Elvis. One day I came home and found the pair of them in bed. I refused to go back to school the next day. After being at home for a couple of weeks, she put me to Brearley.”

  “That maw ae mine wis intae that Kenneth McKellar wan. If he’d perched oan her, she wid’ve been shouting it fae the tap ae the lamp-posts, no that anywan wid’ve believed her, mind ye.”

  “Who’s Kenneth McKellar?”

  “Remember Calum, The Bonnie Highlander, in the bar last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’d be the male version ae him.”

  “You’re actually quite funny without knowing it, Paul,” she said, laughing.

  “So, that ma ae yers fancied aw yer bad-boy boyfriends. Is that why ye wrecked the hoose back in New York?”

  “No, but the funny thing is, she was right about that one. His name is Curtis Bow. He’s real bad-boy material with attitude. He comes from one of the wealthiest banking families in New York. They also own publishing companies and breweries, as well as prime property in Manhattan…all the things that are important to her. He’s the lead singer in a band called ‘Straight Up.’ He could have bought his own record company if he’d wanted to, but the band wants to make it big on the back of their music. They’d just been signed to Atlantic Records or something that sounds like that. Anyway, my mother was out on the town with sleazy Antonio and I slipped out and joined the band at their celebration party. By the time I got there, they were all out of their faces, especially Thor.”

  “Thor?”

  “Yes, that’s Curtis’s stage name. Anyway, whatever they’d been taking made them jumpy and paranoid. One thing led to another and they were evicted from this really swanky upmarket club. I invited them and some other friends back to the apartment and after taking some more pills and alcohol, they wrecked the place. It was Thor who splashed graffiti across my mother’s painting.”

  “Fuck, he sounds like a real bad-arse that wan, so he dis.” Paul said sarcastically.

  “Oh, he was and is. Of course, his parents had it collected the next day and it was shipped off to be repaired and cleaned. Mother hit the roof and here I am,”

  “So, ye like the bad boys then?”

  “I don’t know how to explain, but I always felt attracted to the danger of the situation. It’s like putting your two fingers up at everyone.”

  “So, whit’s the score wae Mr Bad Boy then? If ye get back tae New York, will ye be back running aboot wae him?”

  “I don’t think so. Even though he’s nineteen, I think he’s still got a bit of maturing to do.”

  “So, how wid somewan like him compare wae somewan like me in the bad-boy stakes then?” he asked her wae a grin, biting intae his cheese roll.

  “Whereas I saw him as being a real bad-boy with attitude a few months back, I now realise he was just a…a...”

  “Fud?”

  “A fud? Yes, I think that’s a fair comment, even though I don’t know what a fud is,” she said laughing.

  “So, whit’s yer thinking oan aw these bad boys noo, especially the wans wae the real attitude that yersel and that maw ae yours keep tripping o’er each other fur?”

  “To be honest, I’m actually quite embarrassed about it. Please don’t take this as an insult, but I’ve never known a real bad boy until I met you and it’s really wakened me up.”

  “So, dis that mean Bad-boy McBride isnae in wae a shout then?” he asked, putting oan his best Bad-Boy-Thor face.

  “Well, there’s no doubt that you’re exceedingly good looking and exude confidence, with an overabundance of danger thrown in that a lot of girls…including myself…find very attractive. Even if I did fancy you, I would never admit to it because I know that Morven loves you to bits and I certainly wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. It would be like betraying a sister. What’s so funny?”

  “Ah wis jist thinking whit that ma ae yers wid think ae this bad boy if ye turned up at her fancy castle door wae me in tow. Ah’d soon cure her ae her bad-boy tendencies, eh?” Paul quipped, as the two ae them cracked up laughing.

  “Paul, I’ve made up my mind. I have to get back to school and decide what I want to do with my life. I’m only fifteen and although I’ve got plenty of time, I’ll need to put a lot of work in, if I’m to make up
for lost time. I shouldn’t be worrying about tomorrow or the next day. I should be living for the now…for me…for my family, without upsetting and hurting everyone that shows me affection…particularly my parents who I know just want what’s best for me. You abandoning me back there made me realise just how much hurt I’ve caused to those who care for me and love me. When you left, I cried and felt sorry for myself. The trek up the side of that mountain, whilst nearly killing me, gave me time to reflect on the damage I’ve been inflicting on all those around me,” Saba said, tears welling up in her eyes.

  “So, dae ye regret daeing a runner then?” he asked, putting his erm roond her as they sat wae their backs resting oan the monument

  “No. If I hadn’t run off, I would still be back at Culrain Castle, inflicting misery on everyone around about me…especially my poor father,” she murmured, putting her heid oan his shoulder

  “Fuck, If Ah knew ye wur gonnae ease up oan that auld man ae yers, Ah widnae hiv taken ye wae me.”

  “He’s not as bad as you think. He’s all bluff. I’ll be working on him when I get back, don’t you worry about that. He’s of his generation.”

  “Oan the windae ae Croick Church, some poor soul who wis getting cleared aff the land o’er a hunner years ago tae make wae fur sheep hid scratched ‘The Wicked Generation’ oan wan ae the windaes. It’s hard tae find it because it’s been done in wee spidery writing wae a needle or something, bit when ye dae come across it and see it close up, it makes ye realise that the generation that ye’ve jist mentioned his been aroond fur a long time and will probably be aboot fur another couple ae hunner years.”

  “Paul, I’m not going to try and make excuses on behalf of my father or his father before him as I attempted to do yesterday. I wouldn’t know where to start. I’m the next generation as far as my father is concerned. It’s what those with responsibility do in the future that should count.”

  “If Ah don’t get shot ae this boat and get back up tae the strath wae Innes’s money, then his generation is gonnae finish sooner than everywan thinks.”

  “You know, when I said I was crying about all the hurt I’ve caused, I never mentioned about the shame I felt regarding you.”

  “Me?”

  “When you disappeared over the top of that mountain I realised that I probably wouldn’t get the chance to say how sorry I was.”

  “Fur whit?”

  “I feel ashamed that I criticised you for not taking the money from the gypsy people. I just couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t take the opportunity to sell the boat, particularly when you were getting more money than what Mr MacKay was looking for in the first place. It just didn’t make sense to me, particularly when it meant you could avoid the danger of being caught with George’s Land Rover. I’m still not too sure if I fully understand it now. What I did realise is that you wanted to honour Innes’s original agreement with this gentleman down in Inveraray. That’s a principle worth defending and I’m glad you stood your ground. I don’t know anyone that would have done that…certainly not my father.”

  “Aye, well, it wid’ve been a pain in the arse trying tae explain it tae Innes and he wid’ve been aw embarrassed the next time he met the guy up at the Lairg sales. There wisnae any honour in it oan ma part.”

  “You and I know that’s not true, Paul. There’s a lot of goodness underneath that hard exterior that very few people probably get an opportunity to witness. I have, and I’ll always be grateful for that. I’ve learned a lot in the past twenty four hours.”

  “So, noo that ye want tae heid hame and cuddle up tae that auld basturt ae a da ae yers, where dis that leave us noo?” Paul asked, trying tae change the subject away fae him.

  “As you said this morning, we have an agreement that I want to honour and that’s selling Mr MacKay’s boat. I still want to head for Staffordshire, as I suspect my mother will be on her way there from New York. We’ll probably travel back up to Scotland together and I’ll try and start to be the daughter that they’ve always wanted me to be.”

  “Right, well, oan that happy note, get that posh arse ae yours intae gear. We’ve goat two ferries tae catch the day,” Paul said, staunin up and gieing Wan-eye a whistle as they heided back tae the Landy.

  Chapter Sixty Two

  The Stalker hid telt him tae pull in tae the side ae the road beside The Queen’s Hotel in Fort William. It hid been a nerve-wracking journey fur McTavish since they’d left Lochcarron earlier that morning. As they’d rounded every blind bend in the road, he’d hauf expected tae come across George Sellar’s Landy, towing Innes’s boat.

  “Right, Swein, Ah’m aff tae put a call through tae Glesga. Ah’ll be back in a tick,” The Stalker said, getting oot ae the car and stretching, before disappearing through the front door ae the hotel.

  McTavish switched aff the engine and drummed his fingers oan the steering wheel. His heart missed a beat when he noticed a red telephone box, peeking oot ae the side ae the building across the road fae where they wur parked. He cursed as he jist aboot fell flat oan that face ae his in his hurry tae exit the Landy. He scurried across the road, withoot looking behind him, hauf expecting McPhee tae shout oot his name, demanding tae know where he wis aff tae. He heaved open the stiff door and stepped in. The smell ae stale pish made his nose crinkle. He searched in his pockets fur coins and produced a haunful ae change. He paused, trying tae remember the number and then dialled, haudin a shilling against the slot wae his thumb. The telephone at the other end rang fur ages before being picked up as his shilling piece wis gulped up wae a clunk.

  “Hello, Lairg Veterinary Practice…Agnes speaking.”

  “Aggie, is that you? It’s Swein McTavish here. Is…”

  “Oh, Swein, it’s yourself, my we’re all…”

  “Aggie, never mind that…”

  “Very proud…”

  “Aggie!”

  “About your promotion, so we are,” Aggie prattled.

  “Aggie, listen. Is Packer there?”

  “And we’ve just heard your name mentioned on the lunchtime news as well.”

  “Aggie, I need Packer,” McTavish shouted doon the phone.

  “Mrs McKenzie said she never heard that you had been promoted to sergeant.”

  “Aggie, shut the fuck up!”

  “My, Swein, there’s no need to swear at me, I was only wishing…”

  “Is Packer there, Aggie?”

  “Aye, he is.”

  “Well, for goodness sake, can I speak to him?”

  “Och, I’ll just see if he’s free, Swein. He was just off to make a wee cup of tea,” she replied.

  “I don’t believe this,” McTavish muttered under his breath, as he scanned the street through wan ae the wee windaes.

  “What’s that, Swein? What did you say?” Aggie asked him.

  “Aggie, please get off this phone and go and get Packer. It’s an emergency, for crying out loud.”

  “Right, I’ll just go and get him now…sergeant,” she said, laying the phone down wae a clunk.

  “Swein? It’s Packer. You kept your promotion secret.”

  “Packer, never mind that just now. Listen, I need you to do me a favour. You’ll have to go across to Innes for me and find out what the hell is going on.”

  “To Innes’s?”

  McTavish quickly explained how he’d come across the Landy wae Innes’s boat hooked up tae it.

  “It’s been on the news. He’s got Innes’s boat? Paul wasn’t mentioned by name, although everyone knew who they were talking about, but there was no mention of a boat,” Packer said, lowering his voice as he heard Swein pushing in another coin.

  “Now, listen up, Packer. I need to know what’s going on. This Sergeant McPhee…”

  “The one they call The Stalker?”

  “He claims that Paul is very dangerous. How did you know he was called The Stalker?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Swein. They’ve announced that you’ve been promoted to sergeant.
They were saying on the radio that two of Scotland’s most feared policemen are on the trail of The Duke’s daughter. They mentioned The Stalker and…wait for it…they’re calling you The Highland Fox.”

  “The what?”

  “They’ve got you down as some kind of super-sleuth. The man on the news said that they’re waiting to see who catches the bad boy and rescues The Duke’s daughter first…The Stalker or The Highland Fox. Hello, are ye still there, Swein?”

  “Aye…er…aye. Now, what kind of nonsense is this? I haven’t heard of any promotion. I haven’t even gone in for my sergeant’s exam. There must be a mistake.”

  “Well, some inspector…Cotter, I think they said his name was…was calling you Sergeant McTavish. I don’t know where The Highland Fox tag came from though.”

  “Look, Packer, get across to Innes’s and I’ll try and phone you back before five o’clock. If they find out I saw the Landy and the boat, I’ll end up in prison alongside Innes.”

  Chapter Sixty Three

  “Pat, quick, it’s oan the news,” Peter The Plant shouted across tae The Big Man, who jumped up aff ae that arse ae his, through the cloud ae cigar smoke, and hauf ran across tae the telly in the corner, as The Plant wis turning up the volume.

  “The news of the disappearance of The Duke of Kyle’s fifteen year old daughter, Lady Saba MacDonald, took a new twist today, after it became headline news on the front page of The Glasgow Echo. According to unofficial police sources, it has been suggested that Lady Saba may have been kidnapped by a group of young thugs from Glasgow. It’s been suggested that one of the boys, who we understand are all aged about fifteen, had come to work in the Strath Oykel valley in the Highlands earlier in the year. It has been suggested that this young thug somehow befriended Lady Saba and took advantage of her innocence to lure her away to a lonely spot where the gang were waiting to abduct her. As you can see from where I am speaking now, apart from the beautiful castle, the area is fairly remote. Earlier this morning, journalists were allowed into the castle to record a statement from The Duke and Duchess of Kyle, who made a plea to whoever may know the whereabouts of their daughter, to get in touch with the nearest police station.”