The Wummin: The Glasgow Chronicles 5 Page 3

  “Wid this be Joseph McManus, Mrs Taylor? Yer nephew?”

  Helen hid reluctantly looked at the face, the face that she’d seen a million times o'er the years, since the first time that Johnboy brought him hame and asked if it wis okay fur him tae stay fur his tea. She’d remembered that she’d barely hid enough tae eat fur Jimmy and the three girls. She’d remembered that she’d only jist managed tae scrape the money thegither tae buy hauf a pound ae mince fur the six ae them. A seventh mooth wis gonnae stretch it a bit.

  “Whit dae ye think this is? The feeding ae the five thousand?” Norma, Johnboy’s sister hid cursed oan everywan’s behauf.

  “If there’s no enough, he kin get your share, Fatso,” Johnboy hid shot back.

  Efter that, Joe and Johnboy’s other three pals, Paul McBride, Tony Gucci and the wee ugly baldy boy, Skull Kelly, who’d died in a fire alang wae Tam The Bam’s dug, Elvis, hid been regular visitors at teatime, despite baith Helen and Jimmy warning Johnboy tae cut it oot...bringing stragglers roond tae the hoose when they wur jist aboot tae hiv their tea.

  “Mrs Taylor?”

  “Aye…Ah kin confirm that that’s Joe McManus lying there,” she’d croaked, feeling the hot tears running doon her cheeks.

  “Issie, Issie, wake up, hen. We’re jist aboot at the fire station oan Keppochhill Road,” Helen soothed, gently shaking Issie, before reaching up and pressing the button oan the roof fur the driver tae stoap at the next bus stoap.

  “Helen, please tell me this is jist a bad dream...a nightmare,” Issie groggily groaned.

  “Ah’m sorry, Issie, Ah wish Ah could, hen,” she replied, helping Issie up aff ae her seat, as the bus slowed doon.

  Chapter Four

  Helen lifted up her legs and rested her sore feet oan the pouffe stool in front ae the fire. She gratefully accepted a cup ae tea fae Jimmy, who’d sat doon across fae her. She knew fine well that he’d want tae know how she’d goat oan visiting Johnboy oot in Polmont Borstal, jist ootside Falkirk, bit he’d hiv tae wait. She couldnae be arsed wae another argument or listening tae him parroting that ‘Ah telt ye, bit ye widnae listen’ stuck-record tune. She wis angry at hersel, at the prison authorities, at Jimmy and at the situation that poor Issie, Tam and Wee Mary hid found themsels in efter whit hid happened tae poor Joe. She peered across at Jimmy o’er the rim ae her cup. He picked up her fag packet and shook it at her. She nodded and he took wan oot and lit it up before passing it across tae her. He wis a funny wan, Helen thought. He’d stoapped smoking aboot three or four years earlier, bit still liked tae light up her fags fur her...as well as hiv a fly wee puff while he wis at it. She couldnae remember a worse forty eight hours than those that hid jist passed. By the time she’d goat Issie back hame efter being doon at the mortuary and sorted oot the shifts fur the lassies tae go roond and make sure Issie and Tam wur awright, Jimmy hid awready been hame, pacing. Efter being in the cab aw day, he’d come hame tae an empty hoose, wae nae food in the cupboards, an unlit fire in the grate and no knowing whit the score wis wae young Joe. Even though Helen regularly accused him ae being a drama queen, she knew he’d every right tae be pissed aff, despite the circumstances that Issie and Tam hid found themsels in. He’d made sorry noises when she’d telt him aboot whit hid happened tae young Joe, and aboot her hivving tae escort Issie doon tae the mortuary via the Bar-L. He’d also asked how Issie and Tam wur coping, bit she knew it widnae be long before the girning started. He’d goat the fire gaun, nipped roond tae Sherbet's and bought a loaf, milk, cheese, baked beans and a few other odds and ends oan tic. Everything hid seemed tae be gaun awright as they tucked intae their beans and toast until she’d mentioned that they’d need tae nip oot tae Polmont tae visit Johnboy.

  “Whit fur? Ah thought ye said he wis getting oot next week.”

  “He is, bit we need tae tell him aboot whit’s happened tae his pal.”

  “Why? Him and they mates ae his hivnae run aboot wae Joe since his accident a year or so ago.”

  “Accident? Whit ur ye oan aboot, his accident? He wis set upon and assaulted so badly that he ended up wae brain damage, so he wis.”

  “Ach, ye know whit Ah mean. The point Ah’m making is, Johnboy and him wurnae that close o’er the last wee while...no like they wur before.”

  “Ah’m no letting Johnboy come hame this Christmas tae discover that wan ae his best pals, past or present, his been stabbed tae death, jist o’er a year efter being badly assaulted.”

  “Joe wisnae stabbed that time.”

  “He wis bloody assaulted and turned intae something he wisnae before the assault. Ah cannae get o’er ye, Jimmy. Hiv ye furgoat whit happened tae Johnboy’s wee pal when he wis aboot ten, doon in the Toonheid?”

  “Aye, of course Ah remember. The wee boy that died in the fire? Whit’s that goat tae dae wae anything?”

  “Yer advice then wis tae ignore it…don’t talk tae him aboot it…he’ll get o’er it as he gets aulder and time passes.”

  “Well, that’s whit happened wae me when ma wee pal droont up at The Nolly when Ah wis aboot his age.”

  “Fur Christ’s sake, Jimmy. That wee boy, the wan they called Skull, died in that pigeon dookit up oan Parly Road as a result ae somewan setting it oan fire. And we aw know that it wisnae weans that set it alight either. That wisnae an accident…that wis murder, so it wis.”

  “Helen, ye’ve lost me here. Whit the fuck his that goat tae dae wae whit happened tae poor Joe McManus the other night?”

  “Ah’m no sure that Johnboy, or his pals fur that matter, hiv ever goat o’er whit happened aw they years ago.”

  “How kin ye say that? Ah’ve never heard Johnboy even mention it in aw the time he’s been growing up.”

  “That’s ma point. Dis it no strike ye as being a wee bit odd?”

  “Whit?”

  “Wan ae yer best pals, who wis in the same class as ye at school, gets burnt tae death in a dookit. The wans who did it ur either the local polis, who hate ye and yer mates, or a bunch ae adult gangsters who duck and dive in the doo-world and blame ye fur stealing aw their good doos. Johnboy his never, tae ma knowledge, mentioned it, not wance, while he wis growing up. Dis that no strike ye as being kind ae strange?”

  “It wid if he wisnae away maist ae the time, locked up in some approved school. Who knows who he’s spoken tae aboot whit happened? In fact, who knows whit goes oan inside that heid ae his? Hauf the time, Ah think he’s away wae the fairies, so Ah dae.”

  “He’s no walking oot ae borstal intae this withoot any prior warning. Ah’m gonnae be the wan tae tell him this time. Christ knows whit the mental damage wis the last time we sat back and did eff-aw tae help him through it. The morra’s Saturday...visiting day...and it’s the only chance Ah’m gonnae get tae let him know before he gets released oan Christmas Eve.”

  Helen looked at him through her fag smoke. He still hidnae asked how she’d goat oan and how Johnboy wis, which wis fair enough considering the humdinger ae an argument they’d hid the night before. Jimmy hid left aff hivving something tae eat until she’d arrived hame.

  “Ur ye hungry then?”

  “Starving.”

  “Right, whit dae ye want oot ae Salty Tony’s ?” he asked her, picking up his jaicket, before heiding fur the door.

  “So, how ur ye gonnae get oot tae Polmont then?” he’d asked her the night before.

  “Well, if ye hidnae gied away that car ae yers tae poor Tam, ye could’ve driven me there and back,” she’d responded, ignoring his question.

  “The reason Tam goat fined twenty quid is because the car wis knackered and no fit tae be oan the road. If ma memory serves me well, we didnae hiv any money tae get it fixed. Maybe if ye didnae smoke like a chimney, we could afford tae hiv a car oan the road fur me tae taxi ye aboot in,” he’d sarcastically sniped back at her.

  That hid kicked it aw aff. World War Three hid erupted and she’d ended up being telt how she wis a useless selfish bitch, taking care ae aw the waifs and strays o’er the years, bit ign
oring his and the weans needs…how she’d brought shame tae his door wae aw the carry-oan wae the warrant sales demos, how his wee maw and da wur ashamed ae him marrying a mad psychopath, who’d ended up in the jail fur assaulting the polis, insteid ae being at hame looking efter her man and her weans. Wan ae his better wans hid been that he should’ve dumped her when he hid the chance. Who else wid’ve put up wae the shite that he’d hid tae put up wae hid been another good wan. She hidnae lain back wae her legs open, thinking ae queen and country, while aw this abuse wis being dished oot though. She’d taken nae prisoners and hid gone fur a knock-oot punch early. She’d telt him that no only wis he a useless basturt, bit that he wis a pathetic wan at that, and that she should’ve stayed where she wis wae Pat Molloy, The Big Man, a real man, fae the Toonheid. She’d known that wid hurt him as he’d never been able tae come tae terms wae the fact that she’d gone oot wae wan ae the biggest gangsters in Glesga when she wis younger. It hid aw ended wae him storming aff tae Johnboy’s room and her being left tae sleep oan her lonesome. She bloody-well hated it when he did that, which wisnae very often, thank God.

  “So, ur ye gonnae tell me how ye goat oan then?” he finally asked her, lifting a bit ae haddock intae that gub ae his wae his fork.

  “Ah took a bus fae here doon tae the toon centre, then hid tae get a bus fae Dundas Street oot tae Falkirk and then another wan oot tae Polmont. Luckily, the bus came back alang Duke Street oan the way back and Ah goat aff at the High Street and caught a number thirty seven back up intae Springburn. Whit a bloody hassle ae a day, Ah’ve hid.”

  “Naw, it’s no yer journey that Ah’m interested in. Whit wis Johnboy’s reaction when ye telt him aboot Joe?”

  “He still disnae know.”

  “Whit? Ye never telt him? So, whit wis the point ae daeing aw that running aboot aw o’er the place if ye didnae even tell him then?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Because the basturts widnae let me in tae see him, that’s why. Aw that way and they telt me Ah wisnae getting in tae see him.”

  “Whit? Why the hell wid they dae that?”

  “They widnae let me in tae see him because he’s in solitary confinement fur fourteen days. Seemingly, when that happens they’re no allowed any visitors...something tae dae wae withdrawing privileges or something they said.”

  “Privileges? Getting a visit fae yer maw isnae a privilege...surely that’s a right, is it no?”

  “No oot there in Polmont, it isnae. And another thing, he’s no getting oot oan Christmas Eve either. They slapped seven days oan tae his sentence as well. Loss ae remission they called it. It’ll be Hogmanay before he gets oot noo. That’s another Christmas we won’t be seeing him at hame,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

  “Fur Christ’s sake, seven days? Whit did he dae? Murder the governor’s cat or whit?”

  “Ah don’t know. They widnae tell me, even efter Ah telt them that Ah’d been travelling aw day tae get oot there. They jist don’t gie a monkey’s fur the families. ‘Rules ur rules’ a wee cheeky angry-faced gnaff, who stood there wae the brim ae his silver-braided hat pulled doon o’er his eyes, sneered at me. He refused tae go and get a governor or a senior member ae staff fur me tae talk tae. He telt me that he wis the senior officer oan duty and he wisnae allowing me in tae see ma boy. Ah then hid tae wait o’er an hour in the rain and sleet up oan the roadside before a bus came tae take me back intae Falkirk. Ye wid’ve thought they’d provide a bus shelter up there or something fur people like us.”

  “Ach, well, at least ye tried, hen,” he said, coming across and gieing her a cuddle.

  “Jimmy?”

  “Aye?”

  “Ah’m sorry aboot whit Ah said last night.”

  “Aye, Ah know. So am Ah, hen.”

  Chapter Five

  It wis Monday morning and Helen wis sitting up in the National Assistance Board oan Springburn Road wae Issie, waiting fur Issie’s name tae be called again. They’d been amongst the first through the door when they’d been let in at ten o’clock. Efter sitting aboot oan chairs that hid been deliberately designed tae be as uncomfortable as they could be fur whoever wis meant tae be sitting oan them, in order tae put people aff coming in tae get their entitlements, Issie hid been haunded o’er a bundle ae forms and telt tae fill them in.

  “Ye kin take them hame and come back the morra wance ye fill them in, if ye want,” a wee lassie, who wis wearing glasses and who looked aboot twelve, hid telt them.

  “Aye, well, if it’s awright wae yersel, hen, we’ll fill them in the noo and get it aw o’er and done wae. Some ae us hiv mair things tae dae wae oor time than tae be stuck in here aw day,” Helen hid sniffed, looking the place up and doon as if it wis the first time she’d darkened its doors.

  “Right, well, when ye’ve done that, ye’ll need tae go up the stairs tae the second flair and go through the door there. Go tae the queue wae the letter M above the seats and wait until ye’re called forward.”

  “M?”

  “M fur McManus. They’ll sort oot yer death grant fur ye,” Little Miss Four Eyes hid gruffly shared wae everywan in the place, looking beyond their shoulders tae the next claimant who wis awready up oan her feet, shuffling forward and causing a wave ae people tae shift forward wan seat tae take their place oan the chairs in front ae them, snaking closer tae the snotty wean in the glasses.

  Issie couldnae cope wae filling oot the forms, so Helen hid done it fur her. Issie’d claimed that she couldnae cope wae the questions, bit Helen knew fine well that it wis because Issie couldnae read or write.

  “Look, Issie, Ah’ll hiv tae read the questions oot tae ye, so Ah will. The answers hiv tae come fae yersel, bit Ah’ll help ye.”

  “Aye, okay, Helen, fire away,” she’d sniffed.

  The questions hid been awful, Helen remembered. As well as the usual...name and address, hoosehold income, doctor’s name and address...the form hid asked fur the cause ae death, which hid upset Issie.

  “Ye better put doon ‘stabbing,’” Issie hid said, tears appearing in her eyes.

  “Long term illness or sudden death?”

  “Ah’d say sudden. Whit dae ye think yersel, hen?”

  “Death certificate?”

  “Ye better put doon pending,” Issie mumbled.

  “Undertaker?”

  “Ye better put doon pending.”

  “Income status?”

  “The Burroo.”

  “Savings?”

  “Aye, right,” Issie hid scoffed, hauf smiling bitterly.

  Another hour later and they’d tramped up the stairs tae the second flair. It wis like a cross between a cattle market and the Barras, wae people ae aw shapes and sizes milling aboot or hauf sleeping, slouched oan the torture chairs. They managed tae push their way through the lines and sat in the queue under the letter M.

  “At least we kin hiv a fag, so we kin,” Helen said, her eyes awready nipping wae the thick blue smoke that hung in the air.

  “Well, at least we’re no as bad in oor queue, Helen,” Issie said, taking the lighted fag oot ae Helen’s haun as they baith looked at the snake ae people staunin behind the chairs ae the wans under the letters K, L, N and P.

  “Aye, we’re only aboot thirtieth in the queue here,” Helen replied sarcastically.

  “Whit dae ye make ae they bloody social workers coming up tae ma door this morning then?” Issie asked her fur the umpteenth time since they’d left Issie’s hoose.

  When Helen hid arrived up at Issie’s earlier, Issie hid been in a terrible state. Two social workers hid jist vacated the premises. Helen hid passed them oan the stairs oan her way up. She’d known exactly who they wur, so hid ignored them when wan ae them hid said 'hello' tae her oan her way past. She’d known that the shiny car sitting at the closemooth either belonged tae the polis or tae social work. They’d arrived at Issie’s door, bang oan nine o’clock. Thank God Wee Mary hid awready heided aff tae Gourlay Street Primary School, Helen thought tae hersel.

  “Mrs McManu
s?” The tall ginger nut social worker wan hid asked Issie when she’d opened the door.

  “Aye?”

  “Kin we come in? We’re fae the Social Work Department.”

  “Aye, Ah know who youse ur. In ye come, Ah’m right glad and impressed tae see youse here so soon,” Issie hid replied, as they’d followed her intae the living room.

  “So, ye wur expecting us then?”

  “Well, no really. It wis mair wishful thinking oan ma part.”

  “Is yer daughter aboot?”

  “Wee Mary? Naw, ye’ve jist missed her. She’s heided aff tae that school ae hers wae her wee pal fae across the landing. Despite being up hauf the night wae nightmares, Ah managed tae get her oot ae her bed and oot the door. Ah widnae be surprised if she disnae fall asleep at her desk hauf way through the morning lessons, bit Ah thought it wis fur the best. Ye hiv tae keep up appearances, eh?” Issie hid said, leaving them tae it as she went through tae the kitchen tae put the teapot oan.

  “So, Mrs, er, McManus, Ah know this might be hard fur ye tae gie an honest answer tae, bit how ur ye coping jist noo?”

  “Well, Ah must admit, this is the worst time ae ma life. Ah jist cannae stoap bubbling, so Ah cannae.”

  “And Mr, er, McManus?”

  “Tam? Ach, he’s no coping wae life jist noo either, so he isnae. He’s been lying pished through in the bedroom since he goat oot ae Low Moss jail oan Friday, so he his. The only time Ah’ve seen him is when he’s managed tae get himsel up and stagger alang Gourlay Street tae the wee aff-licence tae buy another couple ae bottle’s ae Auld England sherry.”

  “And yersel? Apart fae the bubbling, how ur ye coping and getting by wae life in general?”

  “It’s no easy, bit Ah hivnae any choice...no wae Wee Mary tae be looked efter. Ah’ve heard people saying it, and Ah’m sure it’s true that time heals everything...in the long run, that is.”

  “And wee, er, Mary?”

  “Ah know she’s only ten, bit she kin cope. Mind you, seeing her nip oot ae the front door wae only her nightie and a baggy jumper oan in the early hours ae the morning during a snow blizzard, dis make ye proud. The weans ur no aw spoilt rotten noo-a-days, like some people wid hiv ye believe. She’s a lot tougher than she looks,” Issie hid said, heiding back through tae the kitchen tae fetch the tea, bit noticing the funny looks that the social workers wur gieing each other.