Parly Road: The Glasgow Chronicles 1 Read Online Free

thought ye wur Lord Charles, the puppet. And where did ye get that wan-eye glass fae?” Johnboy hid asked him.
      “Ah found it in a box that ma da keeps oan tap ae the wardrobe, alang wae his dirty magazines.  Dae ye like it?” he’d said, putting it oan.
      There hid definitely been a resemblance tae Lord Charles.  Johnboy hid tried tae put it oan himsel, bit it hid kept falling aff, which might’ve hid something tae dae wae the fact that his face hid jist been in a fight wae King Kong’s wee brother.
      “Right, let’s go,” Tony hid announced aw ae a sudden.
      “Where tae?”
      “Tae get that prick.”
      “Whit prick?”
      “The fat basturt that jist beat ye up.”
      “Whit dae ye mean?”
      “Ye don’t think we’re gonnae let Fat Arse get away wae that, dae ye?”
      “He’s wae a gang ae his mates,” Johnboy hid blurted oot, panic rising in his voice.
      “Even better.”
      “Bit he’ll be well gone.”
      “Don’t ye worry aboot that. He’s goat a paper-run up aboot Stanhope Street. Ah see him aw the time efter school. Ah live across the back fae him.”
      “Bit, wid we no be better tae jist leave it at that? He goat whit he wanted,” Johnboy hid pleaded, even mair panic in his voice.
      “Listen, Johnboy, that fat prick will be back fur mair. Before ye know it, ye’ll be haunin o’er yer play-piece, then it’ll be yer money and then aw yer fags.”
      “Ah don’t smoke,” Johnboy hid confessed miserably.
      “Ye know whit Ah mean.”
      “Ah’m no sure this is a good idea. Ah’ve awready been expelled.”
      “Look, if ye’re gonnae run aboot wae me, ye’ll hiv tae wise up and trust me.  Whit’s it tae be?” Tony hid asked him, looking straight intae Johnboy’s eyes.
      Even though Tony hid been staunin wae his fists clenched, his stare wisnae threatening. It wis the kind ae look that Lassie used when she didnae want the wee boy tae go through the door, bit through the windae insteid.
      “Whit dae ye want me tae dae?” Johnboy hid said at last, as a big smile appeared oan Lord Charles’s coupon.
      “First aff, we need tae get oor arses moving. Fat Arse will be daeing his paper roond, so we’ll need tae catch up wae him pronto.”
      Efter heiding up Parson Street, they’d turned intae Taylor Street and hung aboot in a closemooth fur aboot five minutes. Every noo and again, they’d looked up and doon the street tae see if Fatty Arbuckle wis aboot. Johnboy hid also been looking tae see if Senga wis oan the go, as she lived oan Taylor Street. Her da drove a beer lorry fur Bass. Fat Arse wisnae anywhere tae be seen. They’d then gone through the closemooth that they wur staunin in and jumped o’er a couple ae dykes, which hid taken them oot oan tae Stanhope Street. The smell ae horseshit wafting oot ae the stables hid made their noses crinkle.  There wis still nae sign ae Blob Boy and Johnboy hid started tae feel hopeful that Tony wid gie up.  They’d continued through the closes and back courts, straight across St Mungo Street and intae the backs again, coming oot oan tae Glebe Street. Jist as they’d sauntered oot through the close, they’d bumped intae Senga and her buck-toothed pal. Senga hid looked surprised tae see him as she probably hidnae clocked Johnboy up at that end ae the Toonheid before.
      “Hello Johnboy,” she’d said, smiling.
      “Hellorerr Senga,” he’d replied, remembering the showing-up he’d received in the class when she’d knocked back his good Maltesers earlier that day. 
      He’d jist been wondering whit her response wid be if he went intae his school bag and offered her the chocolates and card, when he’d goat side-tracked by Tony, who wis staunin behind her and her pal, jist oot ae eye-shot, making shagging movements like some dirty mongrel.
      “Whit ur ye daeing up here?” she’d asked Johnboy.
      “Ah’m jist oot playing wae ma pal,” Johnboy hid replied, trying no tae burst