Pure Angst

by Stephen Scarcliffe

  “True.” He raised his head offering George the faintest of smiles. “Even if they need tae learn tae toe the line and exert a bit of obedience from time tae time. And patience at that.”

  “Speakin of the family name. No long till Davies out, eh?”

  “Aye roughly 4 weeks tae be exact,” said Dougie before throwing a casual glance at Sean, like he was measuring his reaction.

  “Still through here fer the homecomin? Ah believe that’s his wish seein as he’s stuck in our own Bar L after all.”

  “Aye, makes sense tae do it through here. Feel free tae hang ontae um if ye wish?” Dougie laughed gruffly before tossing back the last of his whiskey. He signalled to the barman who rushed over.

  “So, how you feelin about Daddio comin home after so long?” Asked John as he slapped Sean on the knee.

  “Be fuckin weird. Been 14 year he’s been inside know what Ah mean?”

  “No long enough, the doss bastard,” said Dougie as more laughter broke out.

  “Any plans fer um Dougie? The Devil makes work for idle hands after all,” said John before interlocking his fingers over his knee and sitting back intently. Looked to George like Davy had whispered a word in his ear.

  “He’s family. Course we’ll work somethin out. Whether ma big brother can handle takin orders from me is another thing altogether of course. The natural order has changed after all.” John smiled.

  “Aye he’s a bloody handful is our Davy. Can attest tae that. Just as long as he’s looked after that’s all that matters, which am sure he will be.” John raised his hands. “Family eh? Ye’s are big boys am sure ye’s can work it out.”

  “Ah think its in the best interests of all involved that we maintain the current order of things as much as possible John. It’s no broke is it?”

  “Far from it. Anyway, enough business talk for one day.”

  George excused himself and headed for the toilets as talk turned to football. After taking a leak, he was greeted by Dougie standing there at the doorway waiting on him.

  “I want you to go with the young boy, Alan.”

  “What fer?”

  “Want you to pick up a sample of those ecstasy tablets tae bring back tae Edinburgh. Feed thum tae the bams fae the scheme. See what they dae, see if there any good or no. If they do as advertised well put an order in. The laddies waitin fer ye out front, awright?”

  15

  George wasn’t keen on the fucker, just couldn’t take to him. Scowling away with his bull terrier face as they exited the pub, ordering George to follow him, and then leading the way with an audacious swagger that suggested he was gangster number 1 and George was some wannabe from that posh place along the motorway. Still, George was happy to swallow his pride, and let the dafty think he was in charge for the sake of the greater good.

  George sped underneath a massive railway bridge, leaving the River Clyde behind him, as the rain lashed against it’s waters like one enormous puddle in the middle of a steadily enlarging shithole. He took a right, deeper into the spider’s web of schemes and estates on the outskirts of Weegieland, as large menacing tenements crept into view, reminding him of home. And all the while he wondered why the fuck he had to travel a half hour out here just to pick up a few tablets. The occasional passer by stopped and stared as if he was a UFO. Bairns running rampant, trampling across what looked like an abandoned building site, a trashed building with tanned windows and CUMBIE YA BASS, spray-painted across it in large blue lettering. As they turned another corner they passed a clutch of youngsters with their trackie bottoms tucked into their socks and Berghaus jackets 2 sizes too big for them synched up around their faces as the rain increased in intensity. Alan pulled up at the side of the road in front of a lamp post, prompting George to do the same.

  “Where the fuck ye takin me?” said George, feeling tense, the sweat seeping through the fibres of his thick Stone Island jersey as Alan climbed out of his Fiesta.

  “Ye want this bag ay sweeties or no big yin?”

  “Aye, but why we needin tae come away oot here tae git thum?” George looked around him at the stark wasteland. “Fuckin doesnae look much different tae the bomb sites in Kosovo.” Alan laughed as he jingled his keys about in his hand, before jumping into the middle of the road with arms outstretched.

  “Big man! Welcome tae the badlands ay the Gorbals! This is worse than fuckin Kosovo, or Bosnia or any ay that shite oan the news. Please believe me, this makes any ay your schemes look like fuckin Disneyland tae.”

  “Aye awright,” said George, unimpressed, shifting on his toes restlessly. “Look just lead me tae these tablets an ah’m out of here.” A grinning Alan aimed a finger wrapped in a massive sovereign toward the tall, grey high rises in the near distance.

  “That’s you jist down there pal, at the dampies.”

  “The dampies?”

  “The dampies aye, the damp flats, big tall wans doon there. Go speak tae the boys standin at the bottom ay the stairwell, they’ll see ye right.”

  “Eh?”

  “Relax. They’ll be expectin ye. Friendly bunch, so they are.”

  “Noones knows me out here. Dont Ah need someone tae vouch fer me?”

  “Ye’ll be brand new big yin!”

  “It's George.”

  “Awright. Got places tae be an people tae see George. Hard work bein a drug dealer ye know?” He slapped George on the back as he passed him by.

  “Stick in. Just tell thum John sent ye, ye’ll be fine.” Alan sniggered as he swaggered up the road, leaving George standing there, stranded in the middle of the fucking Gorbals.

  He pulled up in front of the dampies, feeling the pounding heart of a man that was way out of his comfort zone as he stepped off his bike. The broken glass crunched under his feet on the wet concrete as he approached a team of young laddies that must have been at least 20 strong, guarding their stairwell, patrolling their territory like it could come under attack at any minute. Up above he could see a middle aged woman with bags under her eyes, elbows perched on a pillow as she gazed out of her window, surveying the scene down below. With the sloped white roofing dripping with green fungus and blue cladding that looked like darkened sponges it was clear where the handle “The dampies” came from. A young boy whistled, the chatter going into overdrive as one laddie after another stopped what they were doing, all sizing George up like a piece of meat they weren’t particularly impressed with. Suddenly they were slipping tools from the back of trackie bottoms, and from behind socks, George raised a hand, eager to relay the message that he wasn’t there to raise hell.

  “Whit ye wantin bigman?” said a laddie that stood about 5 foot 4 odds, with a big navy cagoule on that went down past his knees, making him look ridiculous.

  “Am here for the pills, John sent me. No trouble here, ye’s can relax.”

  “Am very fuckin relaxed by the way. Who sent ye? John fuckin who.”

  “John Spencer.” The laddie looked at him as if he was stupid then turned around and laughed out loud at his pals. Soon the whole gang was in fits of laughter, as George stood there, feeling like a complete bam.

  “Some balls on you bigman, fuckin comin up in here oan yer ain an drappin names. Where ye fae an who dae ye run wae?” George felt boxed in as they circled. Suddenly, he was back in that gym class at Ferryhill. That dark place inside from which he’d never quite emerged. Rising from the deck, his top over his head and his belly spilling out, a bit of scrunched up blue tape stuck to his face as the rest of the class tried their hardest to hold back their own spillage of laughter. He had only went and fell sideways, and crashed awkwardly to the deck after a shocking attempt at vaulting the wooden horse. He felt idiotic, ashamed and embarrassed that day. Heavily conscious of his weight, and size difference in comparison to his peers. Felt like he was being inspected and laughed at like a weird looking animal on the yearly visit to Edinburgh Zoo. He’d never quite been able to shake that awkward feeling of self consciousness ever since.

  “Mui
rhouse, Edinburgh.”

  “Fuckin Edinburgh!? Ha ha!” You’re a long way fae home big man. A long fuckin way fae home by the way. People that get lost out in these parts don’t always turn up by the way.”

  “Look Ah jist wantae get the pills an be outae here. Ah wis told you were the boys tae speak tae so here Ah Am. No lookin fer trouble, there’s one ay me an about fuckin forty ay you’s. Ah wis told ye’s were expectin me.”

  The rising agitation was clear in the faces that were gathering behind the ringleader, as they scratched at their chins, and spat on the ground whilst whispering to one another in spiky tones.

  “Were any ay yous expectin anyone? Naw? Didnae hink sae. But seein as yer here now, many pills ye after?”

  “Supposed tae be pickin up a sample tae take back through. Then if ma old man thinks its the right move we’ll...”

  “Gies a hundred quid.”

  “Make it fuckin two hundred Gary!” shouted a boy from behind.

  “Aye fair enough. Two hunner. Haun it over an we’ll see what we can dae.”

  “Nice fuckin bike, by the way!” shouted someone from behind as George felt the heat cranking up underneath his skin. He was in over his head and he knew it. Felt like he’d been sent to the slaughter. His heart was booming now, his hands shaking, the hostile sounds and murmurs growing in amplification as the rain slowed its assault.

  “Am no handin over nae cash, am no stupid. Just give me the fuckin pills, gettin tired ay this shite.”

  “Awrite, al take yer fuckin bike then. And yer money. An there’s fuck all that you can dae...”

  “Your no takin nae fuckin BIKE!” yelled George. He lifted his arm just in time as the flash of the razor caught his eye before tearing clean through his bomber jacket. The bottle bounced off the back of his head as he took toes before buckling to the deck as they swarmed around him like angry wee wasps. Within seconds he was crouched over, covering up as the kicks came flying in from all angles. He felt something hard being driven into his gut before a piece of wood came crashing over the back of his head. Then, just as quickly as the barrage began, a set of car-lights on full-beam brought it to a close. A car door opening and shutting and then.

  “That’s ENOUGH! SCATTER YA WEE BASTARDS HE’S WAE ME!”

  He came up for air, feeling like he was about to pass out. He rose wearily to the sound of rapid footsteps and a torrent of shouts and screams behind.

  “Ye awright? Least yer face is intact. Smoke?” George waved it away as he staggered towards the car and propped himself up on the bonnet by his hands. He checked his arm, somehow it had avoided a slashing.

  “Here. Yer bag ay tablets as promised.” As Alan dropped the bag in his hand it quickly sunk in.

  “What the fuck wis that, somekindae TRAP!?” Alan raised his hands casually in response.

  “Nothin tae dae wae me awright? You want answers? You ask closer tae hame.” George turned his spinning head as another car pulled in, Sean’s car, with Dougie in the passenger seat and Willie in the back.

  “What the fuck?” He felt his insides boiling as Dougie emerged from Sean’s motor. “You wantae explain what just fuckin happened!? I’ve just been set aboot by half the fuckin Gorbals!” Dougie walked calmly up to him, his hands in his pockets, his steely eyes that betrayed any shred of emotion or soul, staring right through him as if he wasn’t there.

  “That will teach you tae go against my orders. A wee wake up call shall we say. Next time I ask you tae go an have a word wae yer pals on my behalf, maybe ye’ll be a wee bit more obedient. Ye want the world son, don’t ye? An ye want it on your terms an your terms only, no prepared tae wait. No fuckin patience! Well you’ll get it as an when I see fit. When Ah wis your age Ah wis still robbin fuckin hub caps off cars an sellin thum down the fuckin pub! Now you know as if there was any doubt before. That I call the fucking shots. And you do as I say. When I fucking say! Got it?”

  George stood there, paralysed with rage, his chest heaving in and out as the condensation clouded up in the air between them that was scorched with violent tension.

  “Fuckin CRYSTAL!” It echoed round the Gorbals, their noses now inches away from one another as George felt his whole frame wobble and shake with fury. He turned to the car as Sean and Willie sat there, switching their eyes about awkwardly. George knew this came from one man and one man only he turned his back on him. Now all that was left was that sickly feeling of self conscious humiliation and embarrassment, deep in the pit of his stomach, fortified and embedded even deeper.

  He climbed onto his trusted companion and kicked the suspension with power as he cinched the helmet onto his head and strapped it tight. He flashed a middle finger at the defiant cross armed figure of his old man as he flew past, no doubt contented in the knowledge that the letter of his law had been laid down once again in such ruthless fashion. Now George had his mind set on blazing his own path, sick to death and suffocated by the Father’s power trips and dictatorship.

  16

  “What the fuck are you playin at?” said Sean as he pulled up outside Willie’s door later that day after dropping Dougie.

  “Fuck ye talkin aboot?”

  “What the fuck do you think Ah’m talkin about? You made us look like fuckin idiots the day. It’s John Spencer we’re talkin about here! Turnin up tae a meet like that an your fallin asleep standin up just about? Makes us look a shabby outfit Willie! Fucked on yer own product in the middle of a big drug deal.”

  “Sorry fer fuckin embarrasin ye eh.” Willie fished about in his jeans pocket before pulling out a fag that was broken in half. He sighed before dropping it. “Got a smoke?”

  “You knew we had this the day, an ye couldnae even stay straight! One day that’s all Ah asked!”

  “Why didn’t ye jist fuckin leave me at hame then ya cunt!” spat Willie with contempt.

  “What the fuck am Ah meant tae tell Dougie like? Aw Ah’d bring Willie but he’s too out is face on junk. That shite that he’s pumpin intae is veins an killin umsel wae! An ye dinnae seem tae give a fuck!”

  “What? Ye mean the shit that he peddles all over the area? Through me?” said Willie with a smile, letting the irony settle in the air.

  “Through us ye mean.”

  “Spare ees the fuckin lecture, eh? Fuckin good impressions, lookin professional, what a lot of pish. See the nick ay the cunt John hud wae him? In his fuckin joggers an that? Real fuckin classy.”

  “Spare ye the lecture? Does anythin actually process in that fucked-up skull of yours?”

  “Ken what? Ah’ve had aboot as much ay your shit as Ah can take! Ye make oot like yer concerned aboot ma state. Fact am oan the smack an that. Ye make oot like yer a mate, but all you give a fuck about is you! An how you look! An how Ah fuckin make ye look! Well dinnae worry aboot me pal. Am just fuckin fine an dandy me. Ah handle ma business like I always have done.” Willie reached for the door handle.

  “That what ye think aye? That Ah only care about number one? That what ye think when Ah’m draggin ye tae hospital, tryin tae get ye tae sign up fer the methadone is it? Or helpin grind ye through cold turkey just tae come back around the way a few days later an find ye wae needles an burnt foil lyin in front of ye. Out yer biscuit on smack again. You think that’s easy fer me after all we’ve been through? Mates fer what fifteen year!?”

  “Ah’m the one that gits the fuckin monkey work!” Willie pointed his dirty fingernail at Sean. “Ah’m the cunt that’s oot there in the front fuckin line, makin your life easier! Goin through cunts’ doors! Daein this, daein that tae protect our firm, sittin wae fucking ounces upon ounces ay smack in ma gaff while Ah sort oot one safe house after another tae keep ahead ay the game. You barely go anywhere near the shit you! Naw, no the golden boy. Squeaky clean fuckin Preemo. Fuckin clean hands. Ye know what? The only reason you’ve ducked a jail cell is cause yer spared the shite that Ah git tasked wae. When wis the last time you hud tae pull some cunt oot their hoose in broad daylight, an scalp thum in the street? Eh!
? Ah’m the evil cunt! Ah’m the one takin the fuckin risks! An you wonder why Ah need tae hit the fuckin gear now an then!”

  “The reason Ah’m no in jail, is cause Ah use ma heid. An cause Ah’m careful, somethin you never were.”

  Willie pushed his face closer. “Ken what? You could take a few lessons fae yer auld man when he gets out. From what Ah’ve heard, at least he has fuckin balls.”

  Sean grabbed Willie by the face and shoved him up against the side window, snarling, “You ever compare me tae ma auld man like that again an I swear I’ll fuckin do ye. He’s the one stewin in the fuckin jail cell while Ah go about ma business, who do you think is on top?” Willie pushed his arm away, and prodded a finger at Sean’s face again.

  “Go on then. Do me! Dae it now! What’s stoppin ye!? Always hidin behind Dougie. Dinnae huv the fuckin balls mate.” Willie grabbed his crotch, sneering, as Sean shook his head in disbelief, wondering what was becoming of their friendship. A once tight knit bond ravaged by the skag.

  “Ken what? Yer no even fuckin worth it Willie. Yer wasted. Ye dinnae ken what yer sayin. Jist get out ma fuckin sight. Away an do yer works ye’ll be cluckin like fuck.” Willie laughed callously.

  “Cunt, Ah banged up in the toilet before we left the boozer. Lightenin quick, me. An Ah know exactly what am fuckin sayin.” He flung open the door.

  “Ye know all this bollocks aside, ye know the one thing that struck me the day?” Sean looked out his side window. Clenching his jaw as he tried his damnedest to maintain a modicum of composure.

  “What?”

  “If the bigman can dae that tae is own fuckin son. Settin him up fer a doin just tae prove a fuckin point, an put um in is place fer darin tae go against his orders. What in the fuck do you think he would do tae us if push came tae shove an he wanted tae make a point?”

  17

  The Telford Arms wasn’t exactly the most romantic of spots for a first date, but then dates were unchartered territory for Billy. About as romantic as it had got was the summer he turned 16. Nighttime walks round Fettes with wee Kerry from D Mains that normally ended with an extended bag off, followed by a hand job in the bushes, or more if he was lucky. Sadly, the nighttime walks had been abruptly cut short when wee Kerry discovered Billy was two timing her with her pal Diane, a discovery that had sparked a hellish tear up in the middle of the centre the following day. As the two lassies went at it like scalded animals, Billy stood back against the railings, acting sheepish, trying to pretend his ego wasn’t swelling, as his reputation as a “wee heartbreaker” soared before his very eyes.