Category Archives: Short-stories

Partners in Crime

The grounds on Govan hill were steeped in blood spills and gang crimes. The houses were skeletons of the past. Its walls were drenched in rainwater and mould, and ancient pine-marten den boxes. Big sea gulls had their young standing vigil on its leaky roofs, and pigeons took residence in its balconies. 

The humans inhabiting these hell-holes were battling their inner demons and empty bellies, and the children in those stark rooms played with their snot. They pressed their noses on window glasses and analysed the muddy imprints of their faces.

In Govan, it was hard not to be part of a gang or enter the world of crime. Yet, Johnny tried his best to stick to the straight and narrow.

He loved Lisa more than life itself. They were childhood sweethearts. Same birthday, a year apart. 

Plans were cooked up and castles were built in the air, for a better world for the child growing in her belly.

A black suit hung in his wardrobe, bought from a charity shop for a fiver. His mates were working near the old shipyards for Mateo and his gang. They had invited him for a pint and some dancing, but he had declined their offers.

***5 years later***

The smell of fresh mud mingled with the decaying bones in the unofficial graveyard for the Govan’s less fortunate.

Johnny walked with a bouquet to Lisa’s grave.

Andie was almost 5 years old and clung to his daddy’s hand. They placed the flowers on an unpretentious and simple headstone. They stared at the stone for a while. The gloomy silence was occasionally broken by a sad tune carried over by the wind.

The child traced the word mummy on the headstone when he thought to ask, ‘Daddy, why did mummy leave us?’

Johnny was lost for words.

‘Mummy didn’t want to. She was only looking out for daddy,’

‘Did you need saving, daddy?’

The child tugged at his daddy’s trousers when he didn’t respond and asked again, ‘Did you need saving, daddy?’

Johnny’s voice was cracking with emotion when he answered. 

‘Yes, Andie.’

‘What did you do?’ He asked sucking his thumb. His other hand played with the muck on the ground, creating childish whirls around the grave. The mud was gritty with small stones.

‘I stole food, but your mummy took the blame for it.’ He spat some blood out after biting down on his tongue.

The boy didn’t mind the sight of blood. ‘Did the bad people hurt her?’ He asked while drawing a stick figure. His daddy sat next to him and traced circles with his fingers.

‘No, it was an accident. She got into an argument.’ He drew a long breath before continuing. ‘And the security pushed her, and her head hit the wall.’ He got up and dusted the mud off his hands. The fingernails were caked with dirt underneath it. He wore some gloves over it to cover them. The chilly December winds were ruthless.

‘What happened?’ He asked and got up too. His daddy hauled him onto his shoulders and walked away, kicking at the cobblestones.

‘I was accepted into an apprenticeship program. A police-record would have ruined our chances. It was all my fault.’

It was our ticket out of here.

His eyes squinted with the effort to see the path, while it collected salty water in its sad depths.

‘No, it was the fault of the man who pushed her,’ The child corrected him and gently ran his small hands through his daddy’s ginger hair. His daddy felt his icy hands smoothing away stray hair, just like his mother used to.

‘All for a stupid beef joint for our first Christmas’ It was food or keeping warm, he thought. The regret in his heart fell like rain-drops on his hollow cheeks. 

On their way out, they came across a parked car.

He studied their reflection in its windows — a man with bags under his eyes, and a boy whose lips were drawn down.

Over a beef joint! he thought.

‘Life is not fair,’ he said.

‘Is that why we only go to Uncle Ben’s shop?’

Silence. 

‘But it would be nice to go into the fancy supermarket once,’ he said. His small body was stooped low. 

‘Ok, Let’s go, if you want to,’ Johnny chewed the nicotine gum hard. That day, Johnny resolved to face his demons and Andie squared his shoulder to face it with him. 

The social worker had said that Andie might go into care. He worked 9 hours a day, earned an honest man’s wages, but he couldn’t give Andie a stable home. He hoped he was a decent dad, but didn’t know if he was good enough. 

So, he did whatever made Andie happy. That was his atonement.

****

They both walked out of the supermarket wearing dark shades — an unlikely duo — a man and child dressed in black suits.

‘So, what do you think, Andie?’

‘I think it’s ok.’

The alarms were blazing in the background. The security stopped a black woman and took her back into the store. 

‘Daddy, why did they take that woman?’ 

‘Because Andie, she is black and wearing a hoodie- they must have assumed she is a yardie.’

‘Is that why we are wearing suits?’ He ran his hand over his Sunday best while saying that. He took a small beef joint from under his jacket and handed it over to his daddy.

Johnny didn’t answer. His heart was thumping out of his chest when he realised what Andie had done.

‘Was mummy black too?’ The eyes that were the same as his mother’s asked him. 

‘Yes!’

The world continued to look through a dark lens, filtering for colour or class as they walked away. But there was hope yet for the unlikely partners in crime.

https://www.instagram.com/crispsummers/

Johnny loses the love of his life, and finds atonement in a petty crime committed by his son.

A Blacklivesmatter story.

@crispsummers