by Ian Todd
“She’s away tae The Plaza tae see her da singing, so she is,” Lucy’s voice echoed back.
“Christ. Look, Ah’ll need tae go and try and find her, Nancy. Elvis will be wondering where the hell we ur. Thanks,” Priscilla said, heiding fur the stairs.
“Dae ye want me tae come wae ye, Priscilla?”
“Naw, she’s probably back at the hoose by noo, so she is. Wait until Ah get ma hauns oan the wee besom.”
“Is he no supposed tae be somewhere else jist noo?” Danny Murphy wondered oot loud, wance Elvis hid calmed doon and the choke oan the chainsaw hid been pushed in.
“Aye, he’s wan ae the hot favourites tae go through tae the final ae the ‘Elvis Is The Main Man Event’ the morra, efter sailing through in last night’s heats, so he is,” Peter replied.
“Aye, bit he his tae get through the day’s heats first, so he his.”
“Doddle,” Danny predicted.
“That basturt isnae gaun anywhere unless we kin sort something oot, so he isnae,” Charlie Hastie growled.
“Whit a waste,” Peter sniffed.
Priscilla hid quickly nipped back up tae the hoose, bit there hid been nae sign ae her. She’d rushed doon tae the wee play park at the bottom ae the street, bit none ae the weans playing there hid seen her.
“Where the hell ur ye, Lisa?” Priscilla cursed, starting tae get worried fur the first time.
“Right, Ah’m gonnae put a wee proposal tae ye. A fair proposal, mind ye,” Charlie Hastie added. “Yer reply will determine whether ye stay here and be turned intae a nice mince roond, or whether ye drive hame in that big fancy pink bucket the morra efternoon. So, let’s get the technical part ae the proceedings oot ae the way then. How good ae an Elvis impersonator dae ye think ye ur?” Charlie asked him.
“Eh?”
“Ah said, how …
“Ah’m good.”
“Aye, but how good? Fae wan tae ten, how good dae ye think ye ur?”
“Oan a good night, ten,” Elvis mumbled.
“So, dis that mean ye think ye’re gonnae walk it the morra?”
Silence.
“Ah’ve goat a tape…” he continued efter a pause. “It’s no yer normal stuff that the competition organisers ur used tae marking oan. It’s a studio backing tape ae early Elvis stuff that wis recorded before Elvis laid doon the lyrics.”
“Aye, bit is it a winner? That’s whit Ah need tae take in tae consideration?” Charlie mused.
“Ah…Ah tried it oot oan the regulars ae Betty’s Bar doon in The Broomielaw a few weeks ago and it went doon a storm, so it did,” he replied, as everywan aboot pished themsels laughing.
“Is he serious? It’s like the fucking walking dead doon in that joint, so it is. They jakey basturts wid dance tae the sound ae a cork being twisted in the neck ae a bottle ae LD, so they wid,” Danny scoffed.
“The place wis packed, so it wis,” he mumbled helpfully, setting them aff again.
“Anyhow, back tae business. Dae ye think ye could beat that fat sweaty prick, Teddy Fuckwhit Bare?”
Silence.
“Aye,” he sobbed.
“Well, you might think so and he might think so, bit jist in case he happens tae fuck it up oan the day, he’s taken oot a wee bit ae insurance, so he is.”
“Insurance?”
“Aye. He’s paid Chip Munk, the show’s compere, tae make sure he no only gets through oan the nod the day, bit he sails through the judges decision the morra. Ah’ve heard oan good authority that he’s planning tae take a taxi tae the event the morra because he’s that sure the kid-oan American tin can is in the bag.”
Silence.
“Two hunner and fifty quid he paid Chip up front, so he did. That’s a lot ae money fur a poor, bent inspector, so it is. So, Mr Elvis The Pelvis, the only way ye’re gonnae go hame wae that wife and wee lassie ae yers, sitting up front thegither oan that bench seat, playing happy families, is if we allow ye tae go hame wae it,” Charlie informed him, letting they words ae his sink in.
Silence.
“Of course, it’ll cost ye, as it will us. We’ll get Chip tae haun back Teddy Bare’s dosh and replace it wae oors. Wan ae the three judges…in fact, the chair ae the judges’ panel, is a very dear friend and business associate ae oors, Frankie Macdonald. He runs Top Stars Entertainment Agency, the biggest live entertainment stable in the toon, so he dis. He’s no cheap, bit Frankie owes us mair than a few favours. We go back a long way wae Frankie, so we dae. Of course, a favour given, is a favour owed. We don’t expect you tae be hinging aboot, waiting oan us tae reclaim the favour. Like us, Ah’m sure ye hiv a lot oan yer plate looking efter that healthy wife and wean ae yers. Aw we want fae you, is fur ye tae stay well clear ae the black butchers’ buildings up in Possil. You and that team ae yers kin investigate and raid any ae the shoaps, cafes or pubs tae yer heart’s content, bit you keep well clear ae Black Pat McVeigh and they boys ae his. So, whit dae ye think then? Hiv we a deal, Elvis?” Charlie asked him pleasantly. “Oh, and another thing. You mind and keep well away fae that wee bitch fae the polis station. She’s fur the high jump that wan, so she is.”
“Ma…ma wife and…and wee daughter?”
“That wife and wee daughter ae yers? Christ’s sake, Elvis, whit dae ye take us fur? Animals or something?”
Priscilla wis at the corner ae Apsley Street and Fairlie Park Drive, wondering where the hell tae look noo, when she heard the shout.
“Mammy? Mammy?” Lisa Marie shouted fae the bottom ae the drive, jist efter turning the corner fae Crow Road.
“Lisa Marie,” she screamed wae relief, running doon towards her daughter, who wis running towards her smiling, whizzing the rattle roond aboot the tap ae her heid.
“Oh, Lisa,” her ma sobbed, grabbing her daughter close tae her, hugging her. “Where the hell wur ye? Ah’ve been worried oot ae ma wits, so Ah hiv.”
“A big glaikit boy snatched Lucy’s granda’s rattle oot ae ma haun and ran aff wae it and Ah gied chase, so Ah did.”
“A big boy? How auld wis he?”
"Ah’m no sure. He went up tae the secondary last year fae ma school, so he did.”
“Oh, Lisa Marie. We’re gonnae hiv tae hiv a right good chat, you and me, so we ur, hen,” she scolded her.
“Why? Ah’m nearly a teenager, so Ah am. Nae big boy is gonnae get away wae bullying me, so he isnae,” Lisa Marie bragged, smiling, swinging her rattle, as her and her ma walked up the drive haun in haun.
Chapter Sixty
It hid been nearly two weeks since her meeting wae Geraldine Baker up at The City Café. Her initial conclusion in the days that followed hid been that it wis aw o’er, even before whitever it wis that she’d intended hid started. Pursuing justice fur hersel and the other wummin looked tae be deid in the water. Oan the Monday when she’d returned tae work, she’d also put in a request fur permanent night shift, bit hidnae heard anything back yet. Hivving tae drag hersel oot ae bed in the mornings tae heid intae work wae the inspector and The Gruesome Twosome watching her every move, hid been a right struggle fur her lately. Whenever she wis anywhere near them, she’d hear some dirty comment meant fur her. They’d then staun there blatantly looking o’er at her, sniggering and laughing. Jist the day before, Dave McGovern hid sent her hame tae get her tights changed efter he clocked there wis a ladder oan the back ae wan ae her legs. Even though troosers hid been introduced fur WPCs in the early 60s, they wur frowned upon up at the station.
“If God wanted wummin tae wear troosers they wid’ve made them men,” Shane Priestly, McGovern’s sergeant sidekick hid snarled at her wan day when she’d turned up in a pair. “And anyway, who wants tae clock a nice pair ae black stockings covered up in trooser material,” the sexist prick hid drawled tae his pal, who’d nodded in agreement.
She’d left messages fur Elvis tae gie her a shout, bit she hidnae heard anything fae him since catching up wae him, Priscilla and Lisa Marie across at The Plaza. Her sleep patterns wur aw tae pot as well, as she slept fitfu
lly, wakening up at the slightest wee creaking noise, wondering if Dougan wis gonnae turn up at her door. Of course when he didnae, she’d lie there, cursing the basturt, her imagination running riot in that heid ae hers, gaun o’er whit she wid say tae him if he hid the nerve tae show his face up at hers, bit knowing fine well, deep doon inside, that she wid probably welcome being in his erms, even if wis only fur a brief time while he goat whit he came fur. She knew she wis lonely. Sitting in her flat wae jist Mr Hopkins fur company hid its good points, bit it wis the silence and whether she could be arsed cooking something decent insteid ae beans oan toast or a fried egg sanny that she found hard. She’d started tae sit in cafes during the day when she wisnae working, watching the faces ae the wummin, wondering if they’d been sexually harassed at their work. Everywan seemed tae be gaun aboot their business looking happy wae themsels. Why could she no be like them? She didnae know why she’d cut Geraldine Baker aff mid sentence by bringing Mr Hopkins name up when The Nurse hid suggested that she might need somewan tae talk tae aboot her situation. Despite trying, she couldnae see any way forward wae the letters. She’d jist aboot drapped wae fright when a car door hid been slammed shut in the staff car park efter her and the rest ae the shift hid finished, earlier that morning. While they’d aw spoken, whistled and laughed excitedly oan their way tae their cars, happy tae be finished, she’d dreaded gaun hame tae her empty flat oan her lonesome. If it hidnae been fur the welcome fae Mr Hopkins, she didnae know whit she wid’ve done wae hersel. She knew her brain wis frizzled. She’d been bursting oot greeting withoot warning. She wisnae too concerned when it happened in the flat, bit it hid started tae happen at her work. Thankfully, when it hid, she’d been oan her ain. The thought ae aw the ex-poliswummin’s voices expressing reservations or doubt aboot whit could be done so long efter the fact, hid been eating away at her. Oan tap ae that, her work hid been manic due tae the number ae shoap-breakings, domestic violence and warrant sales increasing in the area. It hidnae helped that some wee Ned hid gied her a punch oan the lug efter she’d tried tae arrest the wee basturt fur blatantly dealing hash at the corner ae Saracen Cross as the boozers wur coming oot. Whit a bawling oot Shane Priestly hid gied her fur allowing him tae get away. While she’d been confronting the wee basturt, an argument between Priestly and John The Haun, wan ae the local Possil black butchers and Mockit Michael, a black butcher fae Partick, hid erupted ootside the door ae The Tavern across the road. Priestly hid been demanding tae know whit Mockit Michael wis up tae. She’d hung aboot tae see if he needed help in case the confrontation hid escalated tae violence efter Priestly hid been forced tae withdraw his baton. She’d taken her eye aff the baw and the wee hash-heid hid scampered aff roond the corner before she could get a grip ae him. She’d thought The Sarge wid’ve wanted her near at haun if things hid erupted. Obviously no. Oan tap ae aw that, she’d been radioed tae go up tae relieve Jean Harris’s young babysitter and wait till the social workers arrived tae take the weans intae care. Jean hid been found doon in wan ae the dark lanes in The Broomielaw. She’d died ae a suspected overdose. Wan ae the streetwalkers and her punter hid tripped o’er her body when they’d gone in the lane tae dae the business. They reckoned the heroin hid been stronger than the usual shite she’d been used tae. Efter the social workers hid wakened up the weans and taken them intae care, she’d then hid tae go doon tae the morgue in the Saltmarket tae confirm that the body wis Jean’s. They’d tried tae track doon that brother ae hers, Harper, bit nowan could find him. When Jean’s body hid been slid oot ae the fridge, she’d burst oot greeting uncontrollably efter confirming her ID. Hammy Hamilton, the wee mortuary technician, hid assumed that it wis because ae the record that hid jist drapped oan tae that wee turntable ae his as she’d arrived. Janis Ian’s ‘Seventeen’ hid been in full flow.
“Dae ye want me tae change the record, hen?” he’d asked helpfully, as the baith ae them looked across at the wee pile ae singles that wur sitting waiting their turn tae drap doon oan tae the turntable.
She’d burst intae another bout ae tears again, asking hersel why men didnae gie a fuck?
Efter The Nurse hid suddenly upped and disappeared, leaving her tae pay the bill fur the ice creams and her drinks fae earlier, she’d stumbled across Castle Street tae her car in Cathedral Square, feeling dejected. Seeing the obvious distress ae customers being comforted by their relatives, coming across tae the café, she’d realised that her life and the shit she’d hid tae put up wae probably paled in comparison. Jist as she’d been pulling oot intae Castle Street, a bus load ae partying Elvises and Priscillas hid shot past her, their ribbons streaming fae the wee sliding windaes alang the taps ae the glass. She knew if she’d heided hame, she wid’ve probably put her heid in the gas oven, so she’d followed the bus doon towards the cross. She’d come across the ticket fur the competition, hivving hid tae move it oot ae her road while searching fur her keys in her bag. Although no feeling that she wis dressed fur the jamboree, she’d kept heiding south across the Clyde. It hid been a surreal journey. She couldnae remember hivving crossed the bridge, although she did remember passing a body that wis lying prostrate, the hauns laying crossed oan the chest, in the gutter at the side ae the road under the shadow ae the new hooses being thrown up in the Gorbals. It hidnae been lying there in the morning when she’d passed that way, so she’d assumed it must be a drunk. It hid taken her aboot twenty minutes tae find them wance she’d made it past the stewards. The place hid been heaving, wae the air thick wae squealing Priscillas gassing everywan within a three feet radius ae them as they applied their Bellair Hair Spray. It hid been the fitba rattle that hid caught her attention.
“Collette!” Lisa Marie hid shouted, whizzing away.
She’d clocked Lesley and Teddy Junior sitting wae the same crowd ae wummin that hid been wae her doon oan The Broomielaw a lifetime ago. She’d wanted tae go across and speak tae her, bit the scowls and the daggers fae they eyes ae hers hid kept her at bay efter Lesley clocked who she wis sitting wae. The music hid been brilliant though. The same song list hid been regurgitated over and over again, like Blue Suede Shoes, Heartbreak Hotel, Jailhoose Rock and Teddy Bear, bit it hidnae stoapped everywan jumping up and gieing it laldy when the cheesy wee guy wae the slicked-back black hair and sideburns, wae the puffed-up swollen eye, clearly noticeable under the coloured lights, that looked as if somewan hid put wan oan him, repeated the exact same introduction fur everywan.
“Ah hivnae missed yer da, hiv Ah?” she remembered asking, efter Lisa Marie and Priscilla stoapped screaming when she’d joined them.
“Naw, he’s oan soon,” Lisa Marie hid shouted, reaching across and stuffing her mooth full ae popcorn fae the bucket oan the table, before letting rip wae her rattle again.
“Ur ye okay, Collette, hen?” Priscilla hid asked, picking up oan how she’d been feeling at the time.
“Aye.”
Teddy Bare hid bounded oan the stage as the place erupted. She’d wondered if it wis only her and Priscilla that knew he wis a sick, bullying, rapist basturt, as she looked across the ballroom flair tae where Lesley wis sitting. He wis clearly a favourite and hid gyrated through his set despite that fat arse ae his threatening tae burst oot ae his silver, diamond-studded, flared troosers. It hid been the same set list as everywan else’s. Priscilla’s Elvis hid been up next. His set wis different and although she’d heard a few boos, especially coming fae Lesley’s side ae the dance flair tae start wae, he hidnae messed aboot. He’d gone straight intae Stuck Oan You, his first wan up alang at Betty’s Bar. That hid been followed by Too Much, Mystery Train, Lawdy, Miss Clawdy and Hound Dog. The slow bit at the end ae Hound Dog hid sent aw the Priscillas intae a frenzy as he snaked they hips, balancing oan his winkle-pickers like a ballet dancer, ae he slowly dog-slouched across the stage wae that crotch ae his pushed oot in front ae himsel. Collette couldnae remember hivving laughed so much in ages. Eight Elvises hid gone through tae the final oan the Sunday, including Teddy Bare and Elvis.
She cou
ldnae make the final oan the Sunday due tae her work and the fact that the tickets hid been like gold dust anyway. She’d gone roond tae congratulate Elvis at hame oan the Tuesday, as his work hid telt her that he wis aff fur a few days. He wisnae there and Lisa Marie wis at school, so it hid gied her a chance tae catch up wae Priscilla, which if she wis honest, she’d been dreading.
“So, whit’s happening oan the letters front?” she’d asked, haunin o’er the mug ae tea.
That hid been it. She’d gone intae meltdoon again. It hid taken Priscilla a good five minutes tae calm her doon.
“Look, why don’t ye start fae the beginning. Take yer time,” she’d said, wiping Collette’s eyes wae a wash-faded, long-ago-blagged Corporation dishtowel.
She’d spluttered fur the next hauf an hour, explaining the run-aroond that she’d hid oan the Saturday morning before catching up wae them across at The Plaza.
“Ah don’t know whit tae dae noo,” she’d sniffled, twisting they fingers ae hers.
“Aye, ye dae,” Priscilla hid quipped.
“Eh?”
“Collette, ye dae know whit tae dae. That’s why ye’re here,” she’d soothed. “Ah’d be lying if Ah said Ah wisnae disappointed, bit you and me know whit his tae be done.”
“Whit?” she’d asked, confused.
“Collette, hen, if ye want access tae the report ae that wee nurse, then ye’ll hiv tae approach that pal ae yers who works doon in Pitt Street, so ye will.”
“Bit…bit, Ah cannae dae that,” she’d sobbed. “Even if she did agree tae haun it o’er, which she widnae, it wid mean that fat-arsed Teddy Bare wid be left oot ae the picture. Ah’m no prepared tae accept that.”
“Look, this isnae jist aboot me. Ah’ve goat a good man and a good family here. Ah feel blessed, so Ah dae. Lisa Marie is ma life, so she is. At the end ae the day, maybe this is fur the best. This is gonnae drag a lot ae people doon wance that can ae worms ye’re trying tae break intae is ripped open, so it is.”