The Wummin: The Glasgow Chronicles 5 (4 page)

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 McManus?” 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.

  “And ye think it’s perfectly awright fur a wee wean ae her age tae be running aboot the streets in the middle ae the night, wae nothing oan bit her nightie during a snow storm then?” the wee fat ugly specky wan hid challenged her, clearly affronted.

  “Well, it widnae hiv happened if her da hidnae been in the jail at the time, bit being oan ma ain and no coping very well, there wisnae much Ah could dae aboot it.  Bit, as Ah said, she’s a sensible soul, and given how bad the weather wis, Ah felt that she’d be safe enough.  Ah mean, there wis hardly likely tae be anywan hinging aboot the streets at that time ae the night, wis there?”

  “Ah’m sorry, Mrs McManus, bit Ah’ve been a social worker fur ten years noo, and that’s the maist ludicrous excuse Ah’ve ever heard fae a parent,” Ginger Nut hid harrumphed, laying doon her chipped tea cup oan the erm ae the chair and shuffling her papers.

  “So, it probably disnae come as a surprise tae ye that we’ve turned up at yer door then?”

  “Look, Ah’ll be honest wae ye.  Ah know people aboot here…ma ain pals even…think aw youse social workers ur a bunch ae shitehooses, bit if Ah ever hear them saying that again, Ah’ll be the first tae challenge them, so Ah will.  Youse ur no aw bad, so youse urnae.”

  “Well, we’re glad that ye understaun oor position.  We’re human, jist like everywan else and hiv a job tae dae.  It’s nothing personal, bit when we get a phone call saying that a wee lassie is running aboot in the middle ae the night in the street hauf naked, it’s oor job tae respond, so it is,” Specky hid come oot wae.

  “Whit?  Er, hing oan a minute.  Ye’re here because some basturt phoned, saying ma daughter wis running aboot the street in the middle ae the night, hauf naked?”

  “Aye,” they’d baith chimed at wance.

  “She wis running across tae ma neighbour because ma son goat stabbed tae death oan Thursday night and Ah wis in such a state that she went tae fetch help!”

  “Yer son wis whit?”

  “Ma poor eighteen-year-auld boy,” Issie hid bubbled.

  “So, yer daughter wisnae oot playing in the street then?” 

   By the time Helen hid arrived at the hoose, Issie hid been in a helluva state.  Issie hid thought that the social workers hid come up tae ask her if she needed help tae cope wae Joe’s death.  The pair ae eejits hid telt her that they knew nothing aboot whit hid happened tae Joe and that they wur responding tae a report ae child neglect.  Apparently, death by violence wis dealt wae in another office in the social work building, they’d muttered, before making a hasty exit.  Helen hidnae been sure whether tae laugh or cry when Issie hid telt her, before she’d burst intae floods ae tears again.

  “So, whit’s gonnae happen aboot Mary Porter’s warrant sale oan Christmas Eve, Helen?” Issie asked her, bringing her back tae reality.

  “Ah don’t know, Issie.  Given whit’s happened tae Joe, it’s probably better if we gie that wan a miss, so it is.”

  “Gie it a miss?  Why wid ye dae that?  Poor Mary is in an awful state, so she is, at the prospect ae aw her furniture being sold, the day before Christmas.  Christ’s sake, Helen, we cannae let her doon…she’s depending oan us tae try and get the sale cancelled.”

  “Bit, Ah jist thought that wae aw this gaun oan, it wid be better tae dampen doon the demos oot ae respect fur you and Tam at this difficult time.  Maist ae the lassies think that as well.”

  “Look, Helen, even if Ah hiv tae be doon at that closemooth masel, Ah’m no hivving poor Mary staunin there oan her lonesome, seeing her weans’ beds being humphed oot ae that closemooth intae a van by maggots, oot fur an easy bob at her expense.”

  “Next!” a tired looking, baldy-heided, bearded man wae broon nicotine stained whiskers oan the right haun side ae his upper lip, wearing a broon shirt, a broon striped tie and a broon V-necked pullover, shouted fae his desk, ten feet in front ae them.

  “We wur telt doon the stairs tae fill these in and bring them up here tae yersel,” Issie said, passing the forms across the desk tae him.

  “Hmm, uhuh, hmm, uhuh, hmm, Ah’m sorry, no can do,” he said, finally gieing them eye contact, as he looked up at them through his broon-framed glasses.

  “Why, whit’s wrang?” Helen demanded tae know, feeling the dread creeping up through her stomach.

  “Youse will hiv tae heid doon tae the mortuary in the Saltmarket and they’ll gie ye the death certificate and await the body tae be uplifted.  Wance ye’ve done that, ye’ll need tae take it tae an undertaker’s who’ll then be able tae collect the body.  Ah shouldnae really be saying this,” he said, drapping his voice and looking aboot, ”bit Ah’d recommend Clydeside Funeral Directors across in Tradeston, which isnae far tae walk fae the mortuary.  Ye’ll get the best deal in the toon fae them.  Wance ye’ve done that, come back here, and we’ll process the claim.”

  Silence.

  “Oh, and another thing, ye’ll need tae nip up tae the flair above me and go tae the section wae the letter M hinging doon fae the ceiling and get them tae stamp this form fur ye tae haun o’er tae the undertaker.  Withoot it, the undertaker won’t be able tae put in a claim fur his costs, Mrs, er, McManus.  They’ll also gie ye a form that lists aw the costs associated wae a funeral that kin be claimed.  It won’t cover the full cost, though, Ah’m afraid.”

Chapter Six

  “Ah see ye’ve goat a couple ae wee stoating Rob Roy’s yersel, Helen, then,” Betty said, tossing a fag across tae her.

  “Aye, a wee boy, aged aboot ten, appeared aboot an hour ago wae them.  He’s wan ae Johnboy’s pals’ wee brother.  Ah’m glad there’s cellophane wrapped roond them though.  Ye should’ve seen the colour ae they hauns ae his.  They wur mockit, so they wur.”

  “Aye, it’ll be the same wee manky toe-rag that delivered mine.  Wan wee boy wis daeing the delivery, while his wee pal wis at the bottom ae the closemooth, looking efter the wans that wur packed intae an auld Silver Cross sedan pram.  It’s jist as well they prams hiv big springs oan them wae the amount ae chickens they wur humphing aboot.  Ah’ve jist been up at Issie’s and she goat hers delivered earlier oan.”

  “Aye, Ah’m jist gonnae let them defrost oan tap ae the sink.  They’ll jist be right fur the oven oan Saturday, so they will,” Helen said, haunin Betty a cup ae tea before taking a seat at the kitchen table beside her.

  “Ye must admit, Helen, the boys ur aw good tae their maws and their maws’ pals.  That’s three Christmases in a row that they’ve delivered a couple ae nice chickens, jist before the big day arrives.  Ah must admit, Ah wis hinging oan tae see whit wid happen this year.  That first year that Ah goat them, Ah’d awready bought mine.”

  “Ah’m never that comfortable taking them.  They’re obviously knocked-aff.  Imagine the polis coming tae yer door at this time ae the year.  Ah mean, look at poor Tam, getting huckled while he wis sitting at his tea, fur no paying that fine ae his.”

  “Ach, it’s only a couple ae chickens, so it is.  It’s no exactly the crime ae the century, is it?  And it’s coming fae the boys themsels.  Ah think it’s really lovely ae them.  Big juicy Rob Roy wans tae, so they ur.”

  “Aye, bit if ye think how many chickens ur getting delivered, jist tae us lot.  Apart fae us, there will be Sandra, Cathy, Mary, Sharon, Soiled Sally, Geraldine, Ann, Jemima, Christine, Brenda and Nan and God knows who else, as well as aw the other boys’ maws.  That’s a lot ae chickens, so it is.”

  “Ah heard that auld Mary Flint and Elaine Hinky goat wan each delivered tae them, according tae Issie.”

  “Aw, that’s nice, so it is.  How ur they coping?”

  “Issie said she went alang tae see them tae thank them fur gieing a statement tae the polis, efter witnessing whit happened tae Joe.  She said they wur still in a terrible state, so they wur.  Imagine seeing something like that, at their age, efter gaun oot fur a wee game ae bingo?  Bloody liberty, so it is.”

  “So, whit’s happening wae yersels then, Betty?  Ur youse still coming roond oan Christmas day night?”

  “Oh aye, ye’ll see us aboot five o’clock, wance Stan gets a good swally, efter listening tae the Queen's speech.  He’s a fly git.  He says that ye cannae no hiv a wee toast or two efter the queen his made an effort tae talk tae the nation.  See these bloody Orangemen...they’re bigger bums than ten arses, so they ur.”

  “Ach, as long as it keeps him happy and he’s no daeing any herm.  Ma Jimmy usually waits until he’s done the dishes before his thirst really kicks in.  He usually jist his a couple ae screw-taps tae wash doon Johnboy’s good knocked-aff chicken.  He likes tae get everything squared up before you and Stan come roond.”

  “Aye, it’ll be a shite Christmas fur poor Issie and Tam this year, so it will,” Betty sighed, taking a puff ae her fag.

  “Aye, Ah know.  Me and Jimmy hid a row aboot it last night.  Ah suggested that we should maybe invite them and Wee Mary roond tae join us fur the meal.  He wisnae a happy-chappie, Ah kin tell ye.  ‘And where ur they aw gonnae sit, eh?  Ye know fine well that Isabelle, Anne and Norma will aw be here, plus the weans,’ he moaned.  Ah jist telt him that Ah’m sure we kin fit them in.  He came back at me wae, ‘Look, Ah don’t want tae sound horrible, bit Tam will be pished as a fart and Issie will be like Doctor Death...miserable as fuck.  It’s Christmas, and aw the family and Betty and Stan will be here.  Ye don’t want tae spoil their Christmas as well as oors, dae ye?’”

  “So, whit did ye say tae him fur that bit ae cheek then?”

  “Ah jist bloody telt him straight that Issie, Tam and Wee Mary wid be roond here later oan wae you and Stan, wance we’ve hid oor dinner and that wis that.”

  “Good fur you, Helen, hen.  These men think they bloody-well own us and that we should dae whit we’re telt.  That Stan ae mine is the same.  Gie them an inch and they take a bloody mile, so they dae.”

  “Okay, Ah kin accept that it wid be a tight fit roond ma good extending table, so Ah wis willing tae compromise there, bit Ah’m no hivving Issie and poor Wee Mary sitting roond in that hoose, feeling shite, oan their lonesome oan Christmas Day…no efter whit’s happened tae poor Joe.  They kin come roond and dae that here, in amongst people they know and feel comfortable wae.”