Free Parly Road: The Glasgow Chronicles 1 by Ian Todd

said, pointing tae a big giant sardine tin can. “Ye kin leave yer towel oan the chair and ye’ll get it when Ah’m finished.”
      That last bit made him feel a wee bit wary.  Finished wae whit?  It wis then he clocked the bucket ae white paint she hid in wan haun and the six inch paint brush in the other.  He knew then that he wis in fur a treat ae some sort. Big Mooth, wae the bottle glasses and ootsize paps, wis staunin in the doorway, so a mad dash fur freedom wis oot ae the question.
      “Right, this might feel a wee bit cauld tae start wae, especially oan the auld crown jewels,” his ex-pal said, as she dipped the brush intae the paint tin and splurged a great big white line fae his neck, doon his chest and legs tae his feet, in wan stroke.
      She’d obviously hid plenty ae experience ae the painting and decorating game because she went at it like a journeyman. It wisnae as bad as he thought it wid be when he first saw the six incher in her mitt. Her and Mrs Foghorn Leghorn seemed tae take great pleasure whenever Nora wid turn the bristles oan tae their side and jiggle them up and doon furiously between the cracks ae his arse, laughing like wummin possessed at the sound ae his yelping when the white paint stuff stung his arsehole.  Johnboy definitely widnae be recommending a visit tae the scabby clinic tae anywan, unless it wis tae somewan like Fat Arse Milne and his pals. He must’ve done okay though because Mrs Leghorn hid done a disappearing act when the show wis o’er and Nora telt him tae get dressed as he wis finished fur the day.
      The haun wis still hinging aboot at the windae when he came oot wae his clothes glued tae him.
      “Er, Ah think Ah’m supposed tae pick up bus tokens tae get hame.”
      “Ye’ll get them fae the office doon the stair,” said Shitey Fingers.
      Brilliant, he thought. He’d get tae push that wee white button again and see whit happened.
      He could still hear the clickity-clack ae the typewriter bit nobody answered his ring at the windae doon the stairs. Efter aboot ten rings worth ae being ignored, he goat the hint and went through the doors, oot intae ugly Territory and heided back towards the toon centre and school.
     

 
    Chapter Seven
      “Whit the hell’s gaun oan?” The Inspector demanded in a loud voice, his erms ootstretched, looking aroond, no expecting a response.
      He wis staunin wae his feet apart, facing them, in the tap flair canteen ae the Black Street sub-office. The group included the two uniformed sergeants as well as the local pavement pounders. He’d called them thegither as a result ae a meeting he’d hid the day before wae his chief inspector and JP Donnelly, the local cooncillor and Justice ae the Peace. He wis hopping mad every time he thought aboot whit the wee poncie prick hid said tae him in front ae his boss.
      “Thanks fur meeting me at such short notice, Colin, bit Ah think ye’ll hiv tae agree that things ur starting tae spiral oot ae control, so they ur,” JP hid bleated.
      The Inspector hid glanced o’er at Sean Smith, his chief inspector, fur a clue as tae whit JP wis getting at, bit Sean’s face hid been blank. His focus hid turned back tae the cooncillor.
      “Ah mean, it’s no as if ye hivnae goat the manpower, is it?  And Ah think every wan in this room wid agree that Ah’ve supported ye beyond the call ae duty as yer local cooncillor.”
      “Maybe ye wid like tae share...” The Inspector hid interjected, bit JP hid been oot ae the trap and running.
      “Ah mean, at least five times this month Ah’ve hid tae speak wae local constituents aboot the heavy haundedness ae the boys oan the beat.”
      “Whit Ah wis trying tae ascertain, JP, is whit the actual problem is that ye hiv?” The Inspector hid managed tae get in before JP could draw another breath.
      “Whit ma problem is, is that in the past few weeks, a crime wave his descended oan ma patch. Look at the list,” JP hid moaned, as