A Wee Glaswegian Tale

Some call him a “ned”, but he’s not offended. Some in his street call him a “muppet”, but his real name is Stephen; his girlfriend’s name is Gemma, he’s got a wee boy with Gemma, but he thinks that its not his, and so does Gemma, although wee Ryan still calls him daddy.

Stephen lives with his Gran Anne, she still watches him although he’s 18. His mum can’t be bothered with him any more. He’s never seen his dad since that night on the 23rd when his parents fell oot, and his dad left the house, hauf steamin!

Anne, who is 65 next month, is good to Stephen, he thinks she understaundes him better than anyone. He gets her a packet of 20 fags always; so she’s pleased.

As long as Stephen is not oot with Jamie and his pals, she thinks he’s alright, but once he’s oot with them, she knows he’ll get himself into trouble, that’s why the polis will be battering her door at 2 a.m. She’s not asleep Anne though; she’s still up watching “The Steamie”, for the 2nd time that night, with her warm house-coat on!

“Sorry to bother you at this time”, the officer would say, and he notices that she’s been greeting! Must be from watching “The Steamie”!! Poor soul!

At last he’s there Stephen; 6 o’clock in the morning!!

“That’s it!” Anne says, “I’m phoning your uncle John on the morrow, you’re to go and have that wee job he told you aboot, I am not having any of this anymore Stephen!”

“For god’s sake, Anne, you’re killing your self, put down that fag will ye?” her pal Trisha would say, but Anne is too worried aboot Stephen, she doesnnae give a hook aboot what Trisha hinks!

“Aye, John, he’ll be there at 9, don’t worry aboot it, right, Cheerio!” and she hangs-up.

She’s going up’stairs to Stephen’s room, with a cup’o’tea in one hand and a crispy roll in the other. She staunds there by the door, with a strange grudge in her stomach! Stephen is not in his bed, he must have spent the night ootside the house!

She hears the bell ring, it’s almost 10 past. She takes her steps doon the stairs to get the door, it’s the officer, the same one from the other night!

She drops the tea cup, the roll. Her heart sinks, then she collapses onto the hall’s floor!

It will be in the EveningTimes that day, an 18 year old stabbed 11 times in the local park. A few people will talk aboot it, and then 2 weeks will pass, and his memory will cease to exist, but not for Anne. She still takes a cup of tea, and a crispy roll to his bed every morning till this day.