who are the young couple who live next to Jock?' enquired
yes. I'm not quite sure of their names,' pondered
Sylvester. 'It could be Jason and Kylie or Liam and
Megan or Noel and Zoe. Something like that. They have
a delightful taste in music which I'm sure you'll
be participating in soon. It has a way of juddering
the whole building and exciting the soles of your
slippers like a piledriver penetrating a colony of
beehives. It can be strangely invigorating at times,
but alas, not always so enticing at 3 in the morning.
Still, their youngster…'
peculiar looking creature. Sort of like a cross between
a packet of giblets and a bald monkey. I had occasion
to peer into its carriage once and was alarmed at
its ability to gurn, sneer, scowl and spit simultaneously,
whilst sucking on a dummy the size of Oban.'
they spoke, the very creature was being hurled down
Great Junction Street in its Burberry buggy at a rate
of not considerable knots. A passing Clint McMurdo
leered lovingly at the bottle of White Lightning (Shadney's
parents' pacifier of choice) as it shoogled enticingly
in the buggy tray. Shadney, disgruntled that her gnarled
dummy had not been dipped in the bargain basement
cider for at least five minutes, leaned back and spat
it out. It shot through the air in a graceful arc
of spittle and landed with a thump on Jessie Kelso's
scarved head as she relaxed on her favourite bench
in Taylor Gardens.
picked up the dripping bright purple and turquoise
plastic carbuncle which had rebounded off her forehead
and lodged itself on a recently crafted mound of goo
on the chewing gum dappled pavement.
cast a cloot till May be oot,' she said as she hurled
the object back in Shadney's direction.
two parents looked at each other, then at Jessie,
then back at each other. 'Is she takin' the pish,
dinny ken, Ryan. Pick the bairn's dummy up ya radge.'
trundled on past Wilkies just as the doors opened
and out staggered a dazed, disorientated and disheveled
old-timer with a battered paraffin lamp tucked under
one arm and a restless looking daschund under the
other. This was Michael Cade, the ex children's TV
presenter whose old school charm had fallen victim
to the garish style of modern kids telly.
one to hold a grudge or allow the taste of bitterness
to sully his cheesy palette, Michael disregarded the
look of disgust on Whitney and Ryan's faces. Spying
little Shadney ensconced in her tatty chariot, he
was immediately transported back to the piles of home
made cards his viewers used to send him adorned with
cut-out photos of babies' heads stuck onto painstakingly
crayoned cartoon characters.
loomed over the vacant looking child to utter the
shee a wah, a shee a wah, a shee a wah.'
aff, y'auld drunk, or yer oan a burst mooth,' snarled
Ryan, waiving the legendary purveyor of cheap cartoons
and Drunks and Easter Road