Dumfries Read online

  “Is this a long wan as well then?” Silent asked.

  “Wan ae the longest in the whole book, if ma memory serves me well,” Johnboy replied, smiling. “The tune’s a we bit happier though. Anyway, at least being here gies us a chance tae hiv a wee chin-wag, eh? If we wurnae here, ye widnae know aboot oor pal o’er there.”

  “Ah don’t recognise him. How dae ye know he’s wanting tae hiv a go?”

  “Silent, believe you me, he’s efter us fur something you and I certainly hivnae done, so until we find oot whit it is, we’ll hiv tae cover each other’s backs.”

  “That big turnkey that ye wur hauncuffed tae up at the High Court?”

  “Whit aboot him?” Johnboy snarled, starting tae feel irritated, wondering where the fuck Silent wis gaun wae this thing aboot Big Byron The Bore.

  “He said that the guy wae the cravat done away wae five,” Silent whispered.

  “Whit? Silent, fur Christ’s sake, whit the hell hiv ye been taking that Ah don’t know aboot? Is there any chance ae getting me some?”

  “Think aboot it.”

  “Ah’m thinking aboot naff aw and so should you. There’s a big basturt across there aboot tae attack wan ae us.”

  “Think aboot everywan that’s crossed us. Ah’ve coonted at least six, so far, so Ah hiv,” Silent sniffed.

  “Look, the Manuel midget did in five oan his lonesome. That’s totally different, so it is. And where hiv ye come up wae six fae, anyway, unless ye’ve been getting up tae things Ah don’t know aboot, eh? Ah certainly don’t know ae anywan that’s done six in, dae you?” Johnboy demanded tae know, feeling his exasperation levels rise.

  “The Mankys?”

  “Look, ye kin furget Tiny and that Mad Mick wan, if that’s who ye’re thinking ae,” Johnboy replied, looking aboot, cursing himsel fur biting. “They don’t coont, so they don’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Tiny bloody well droont himsel withoot any haun fae us and wae Mad Mick, it wis aw self-inflicted, so it wis. None ae us laid a finger oan either ae them.”

  “Well, Ah’m still sitting wae six, so Ah am,” Silent murmured, looking across tae where The Scowler wis sitting.

  “Silent, don’t talk shite.”

  “Ah’m telling ye. You coont them and ye’ll see.”

  “Look, ya bloody eejit, ye. That mad psycho basturt done away wae the wummin oan his lonesome. That’s whit makes him different fae everywan else. Anything accidently done by us tae anywan else wis always in self-defence. They wid’ve deserved aw they goat. Remember whit yer pen-pal, Byron, said. In war, it’s different. It’s either you or them. Ye cannae compare the two.”

  “Look at the Fisher brothers sitting there. Only wan did the damage, bit they aw goat HMP, so they did. Wan stabbing equalled five convictions. Ur ye trying tae tell me that we widnae aw get hit o’er the heid wae the same gavel, even though some ae us didnae actually pull the trigger or inflict the damage?” Silent persisted.

  “Silent, Ah swear tae God, ye’re fucking twisted, so ye ur,” Johnboy hissed, looking aboot, making sure nowan wis in a position tae be lugging in tae the mad conversation that he wis trying tae extricate himsel fae. “Ye jist cannae go aboot thinking like that. Christ, ye’re gonnae get us aw bloody hung, so ye ur.”

  “Naw Ah’m no. Ah’m only jist saying. Ye asked me whit Ah goat up tae and Ah’ve jist telt ye. Don’t ask if ye’re no prepared tae like whit ye hear.”

  “Listen, don’t even think ae breathing a word ae whit ye’ve jist said tae me tae Tony, Pat or Snappy when we see them doon in Dumfries…especially tae Snappy. Christ, he’ll want tae go and get a tattoo, announcing it tae the world when he gets oot. Look, ma advice tae you is tae jist stick tae bashing that auld Bishop ae yers and furget whit we goat up tae oan the ootside. That’s aw in the past noo…nae fucker’s interested,” Johnboy scowled bitterly, as the hymn, at long last, came tae an excruciating, stuttering end, allowing everywan tae sit doon fur a well-deserved break.

  “Ah’ve decided Ah’m gaun tae Saughton tae become a barber.”

  “Aye, ye said. Right, here’s whit we’re daeing, Silent. The next time we’re up oan oor feet, Ah want ye tae get stuck right in tae ‘Staun Up, Staun Up Fur Jesus.’ Don’t haud back noo.”

  “Me?”

  “Naw, yer granny’s fanny! Who dae ye think Ah’m talking tae? Fur Christ’s sake, nae wonder Ah’m daeing bloody time,” Johnboy whined in self-pity tae himsel.

  “How dae ye know we’re gonnae sing that wan?”

  “Look, hymn number four hunner and eighty wan. It says so up oan the board,” Johnboy whispered, nodding towards the hymn list above the Minister’s heid in front ae them.

  “How dae ye know it’s that wan?”

  “Silent, did ye go through approved school wae yer eyes and ears shut? Every shit-hole we wur in, always hid hymn number four hunner and eighty wan, ‘Staun Up, Staun Up Fur Jesus’ oan their playlist, so they did.”

  Johnboy leaned across tae wan ae the Fisher brothers and asked him if him and they brothers ae his could help them oot wae a wee singing competition wae the untried boys doon the front.

  “Ah’m looking fur a wee smother,” he’d explained.

  Johnboy looked doon and concentrated oan his fingertips. There wis a wee quarter inch edging strip ae wood running the length ae the pew, underneath the shelf that the hymn books sat oan. He’d been fingering it while he wis staunin up, talking tae Silent. If he pulled it towards himsel using aw his strength, there wis a slight give in it. The pews wur made ae solid oak and wid be perfect fur whit Johnboy needed it fur. He curled the tips ae his fingers underneath it and pulled it towards him and Silent. Sure enough, the edge ae the strip appeared oot fae underneath the shelf. He ran the tips ae his fingers alang the underside edge and found whit he suspected. An empty screw hole where the screw hid either been deliberately or accidently removed. The wood wis stiff, bit he reckoned if he wrenched it hard enough, he’d be able tae snap a bit ae it aff. Even better, the wood wid hopefully hiv a jagged end tae it. He glanced aboot. The screws wur aw still lounging aboot, sitting oan their arses, yawning or trying tae dislodge wax fae the inside ae their lugs wae matches. He noticed that wan ae them hid taken oot a wee roond pocket game and wis sitting wae his tongue hinging oot ae the side ae his mooth, concentrating oan trying tae get the wee silver baws tae land and sit in the holes. If Johnboy could manage tae snap a bit ae the wood aff, he’d attempt a wee jab ae The Scowler’s eye when everywan wis exiting the row they wur sitting oan at the end ae the service. Hopefully, in the confusion, the screws widnae know where it hid come fae until later oan, when there wid be disputes, denials, claims and counter-claims aboot who wis staunin where, when The Scowler lost an eye. The basturt widnae know whit the hell hid hit him, Johnboy thought tae himsel, satisfied that a solution hid been found. Silent hid awready cottoned oan tae whit he wis up tae as Johnboy saw that he wis hivving a shot ae pulling the length ae beading oot as well.

  “Right now, turn your pages to hymn number four hundred and eighty one. ‘Stand Up, Stand Up For Jesus,’” the good reverend announced, wakening everywan up efter reciting the Lord’s Prayer at two miles an hour.

  Johnboy jist aboot shat himsel when he heard the racket coming oot ae the mooths ae the Fisher brothers. Aw the screws and hauf the untried boys heids swivelled roond tae stare at them, startled. Efter the first verse, the screws went back tae their slumbering, as per the job remit. They’d obviously put the sudden enthusiasm ae the song doon tae the convicted crowd taking the pish oot ae the good reverend. The untried mob went fur the challenge and wur hauf hollering and hauf howling at the tap ae their voices. The minister couldnae believe his luck and started tae wave his erms aboot, haudin an imaginary conductor’s baton oot in front ae him as Johnboy winced oan hearing the loudest, crunchiest, snapping piece ae wood he’d ever heard in his life…which admittedly, hidnae been many.

  “Christ,” he groaned, shutting his eyes, trying his best tae suppress the
pain, as the blood slowly circulated back in tae his fingertips.

  He braced himsel, waiting fur the weight ae the screws tae land oan tap ae his back before being bodily dragged oot ae the church. When he opened his eyes and glanced aboot, the screw wae the pocket game wis silently punching the air and mouthing ‘Yes!’ as he’d obviously managed the impossible and goat the wee baws intae their holes simultaneously. The rest ae the screws hid gone back intae suspended animation and wur either gouging oot wax or sitting admiring it, hinging aff the end ae their Bluebell or Swan Vestas matchsticks, pondering oan an alternative use fur their new found discovery. When Johnboy looked doon, he wis confronted wae a length ae slim oak, aboot ten inches long by aboot a quarter ae an inch square, that displayed a lethal looking set ae spiked, shard, teeth oan either end ae it. Johnboy turned and looked at Silent, feeling a satisfied glow, gently shimmering across that face ae his, only tae be disappointed by being confronted by that familiar vacant look he knew so well. Johnboy wanted tae shout at Silent, tae urge him no tae leave, bit he knew he’d be wasting his breath. He felt overcome wae sadness, frustration and anger. He didnae know when they’d hiv another conversation. It could be days, weeks or even months. There hid never been any set pattern or time when Silent became talkative or fell back intae his non-communicative mode. Fur years Johnboy hid tried tae suss oot whether there wur particular triggers like words fur when Silent disappeared or reappeared fae ‘Silent’s World.’ He wid always try tae remember whit they wur daeing or whit hid been said at the time, bit so far, nothing hid sprung tae mind. There hid also been times in the past when he’d swore tae try and find oot if there wis some sort ae cure or pills that Silent could take…bit where wid he start? He’d mentioned it tae Tony.

  “And dae whit? How wid ye feel if they whipped him aff tae some nut-hoose?” he’d retorted.

  Johnboy wis jist wondering if aw the YOs staunin up fur Jesus hid been a possible trigger fur Silent daeing his disappearing act, when the organist hit another bum note and brought him back tae the task in haun.

  “Ah’ll nip him when we get up tae go. Try and bunch up wae the Fisher brothers. He won’t know whit the hell’s hit him. Remember noo, Silent…ye’ll need tae cover me fae the screws in case he disnae go doon the first time and Ah hiv tae jump in fur a mair public go,” he whispered, no sure if Silent wis taking in whit he wis saying tae him or no.

  Johnboy relaxed. He felt a lot better noo that he’d goat himsel sorted oot. He’d never felt that comfortable getting involved in violence, at least, no tae the extent ae the rest ae The Mankys. That didnae mean he wisnae a realist. Life fur somewan like him wis jist far too dangerous no tae hiv tae use it when it wis required. People who believed otherwise wur either deid or haunin o’er their hard-earned dosh, alang wae their self-respect, tae scumbags that probably couldnae fight sleep in the first place. As far as Johnboy wis concerned, him and Silent wur in a dangerous place at that moment in time and keeping alive wis the number wan priority. The Scowler wisnae as smart as he obviously thought he wis. Noo Johnboy wid get in there first and it wid be wae a sore wan. The main priority wis fur him and Silent tae get their arses doon tae Dumfries intact tae get they backs ae theirs covered. He wis daeing fourteen years, so whit hid he tae lose?

  Efter the good reverend telt everywan tae go in peace, before disappearing aff through the wee side door beside the alter tae go and get tore in tae his roast beef, the untried boys, under the direction ae the screws, started tae vacate their pews in single file. Johnboy felt his heart pounding. He measured the steps between the end ae his pew tae where The Scowler wis sitting. He reckoned he could cover the ground in three strides. The Scowler wis sitting, oblivious tae whit wis aboot tae descend oan him. He wis intently looking at the faces ae the untried boys passing by where he wis sitting. Johnboy noticed wan ae them nodding tae him and getting a wee nod back. Baith Johnboy and Silent stared intently at the boy oan his way past, looking fur any sign that wid tell them who the hell The Scowler wis.

  “Did ye recognise him, Silent?” Johnboy whispered in Silent’s lug, scanning their surroundings, checking oot where the screws hid placed themsels.

  Silence.

  Johnboy’s row stood up. There wis only aboot twenty ae the untried boys left tae shuffle past them in the aisle. Johnboy gripped the wooden dagger in his haun, keeping the length ae it running parallel tae the seam running doon the side ae his troosers. His heart wis pounding faster noo. He wis the fourth wan in fae the aisle. The untried boys wur hauf milling aboot and jostling each other as they exited up the narrow aisle. The Scowler wis awready oan his feet. Aw Johnboy hid tae dae, using Silent’s heid and shoulders as cover, wis lean forward and quickly jab the ragged, pointed end ae the makeshift oak knife swiftly intae The Scowler’s left eye oan his way past. The two HMP YOs in front ae Silent obviously didnae hiv a clue whit wis aboot tae happen. Johnboy felt a rush ae blood tae his heid and his mooth suddenly dried up, as the fingers ae his left haun dug intae Silent’s right shoulder. His body pressed upwards and he leaned forwards oan his toes, while at the same time, he drew up the wooden blade wae his right haun…and then disaster struck. Efter aw that nervous, rush ae adrenalin, his brain suddenly stalled, rapidly descending in tae a curved slow motion, like a 45rpm single swiftly drapping doon intae a 33rpm LP track.

  The big fat pock-faced senior screw suddenly appeared oot ae nowhere and stoapped the last ae the untried crowd fae moving forward as Johnboy shakily fell back oan his heels, loosening his grip oan Silent’s shoulder. The fat basturt then motioned fur the YOs in Johnboy’s row tae start moving oot. Johnboy couldnae believe it. When the fat braided uniform stoapped the exiting untried boys in the aisle, he’d unwittingly blocked Johnboy’s access tae The Scowler. Another screw hid also arrived oan the scene and wis noo staunin between the HMP YOs in front ae Silent and Johnboy and the untried boys left behind.

  “Right, move,” the screw growled tae Johnboy’s row, thrusting his thumb towards the door ae the church.

  Johnboy drapped the wooden chib fae his haun, doon oan tae the flair. When he looked doon, he clocked Silent’s right fit kicking it oot ae sight, under the pew that it hid jist been ripped aff ae, a couple ae minutes earlier. Johnboy’s heid wis in turmoil as he passed the two screws that wur staunin covering the door. He followed the human snake alang the corridor in single file back tae their cells. As they waited fur the screw tae unlock the gate in tae the convicted wing, Johnboy leaned forward, putting his mooth close tae Silent’s right lug.

  “Whit the fuck wis aw that aboot?” he cursed in frustration, no expecting any response back, as Silent suddenly moved forward wae the rest ae the YOs intae the dark corridor.

  “Good evening. My name is John Turney and these are the news headlines in Scotland tonight.

  One of two brothers appearing at the High Court in Glasgow after explosives were found in the vestry of St Teresa’s Chapel in Possilpark has been sentenced to seven years imprisonment. Seventeen-year-old Mairead Mulligan and twenty-eight-year old Shamus Connelly were both found not guilty of the same charges. All three denied being members of the Provisional IRA. Father John Donnelly, the priest at the centre of an extradition battle between Dublin and London, was unavailable for comment. Father Donnelly was the priest at St Teresa’s for a number of years until he fled after Special Branch officers raided the chapel vestry in…

  The youth who received the longest sentence ever imposed on a teenager in Scotland has been refused leave to appeal against his conviction along with the length of term imposed in the High Court in Glasgow by Lord Campbell of Claremyle on the 30th of May this year. At the Court of Session in Edinburgh today, Lord Bryant, speaking on behalf of other law lords, ruled against the appeal by eighteen-year-old John Taylor, who is currently serving fourteen years for shooting two police officers during a bank robbery on the 9th of November last year. Lord Bryant stated that they were satisfied that the conviction and the sentence imposed by Lord Campbell of Claremyle is safe and appro
priate…

  A youth has been sentenced to seven years for discharging a shotgun during a raid on a post office in Govan in April. During the raid, a police constable and a customer wrestled nineteen-year-old Brian Thomas to the ground before disarming him. Thomas made no comment after being sentenced by Lord Campbell of Claremyle at the High Court in Glasgow today…

  A social worker falsely accused of assaulting children whilst under his care in Applecart List D School in Glasgow, has called for greater protection for staff after the case against him was found not proven at Glasgow Sheriff Court. Brian Wilkinson claimed that disturbed young recidivists, under the care of dedicated social work staff, are taking advantage of relaxed structures imposed on services by the Scottish Home and Health Department by falsifying claims of abuse against those who are dedicated to helping those young people most in need…