Well? Wiz Santi Claus good tae yeez? Whit'd yiz get?
Aul Santi didnae let us doon ah kin tell ye. The wife didnae seem too happy though. Bit a hink ah know whit's wrang. Urr favritt colour's liliac an eh vaccuum cleaner she goat fae the geezer in red's yella! So ah know whit tae dae. Whin eh shoap opens amorra ah'll swapp it furr a purple wan. Who knows, if ah tell thim thir's sumhin wrang wae it they might knoak sumhin aff eh price – seasinal goodwill an aw aht! Yeez aw know ah'm jist kiddin, Mrs Moonwatcher's delightit wae whit she goat. Efter 27 years ah merrage ah know eh score, know whit ah mean innat
Hope aw yooz oot there are iz happy iz we urr here. An if yer no – then ah hope things get better furr ye iz eh day progresses. Here's a wee tale tae keep ye gaun, ye might recognise eh characters. Cheers!The Informant II
Scene: Dennistoun Registry Office, Glasgow. Late 1800s. Reggie the Registrar, recently returned from a sabbatical at the Garngad Sanatorium for the Distressed, swallows another Askit Powder, washes it down with a slug of Bells and slips the bottle discretely into the drawer of his shiny mahogany desk. He’s okay now. The nightmares have subsided, the shaking is less noticable and the eye twitch hasn’t bothered him for weeks. He’s on the mend, professionalism and confidence restored, thanks to the kindness of the nursing sisters and psychiatrists. He takes a deep breath, picks up his fountain pen, carefully dips the nib into the inkwell and writes the date in flowing script on the paper in front of him. Ah! He hasn’t lost his touch as he prepares for his first informant of the day. He’s ready to face the challenges ahead, however demanding. The door opens. He smiles a warm smile and in walks... Jimmy!
Jimmy: ‘Hullawrerr! It’s yersell! 'Member me? Wae’ve met afore 'member? Whin mah pal died. Howzittgawn!’
Reggie groans. There’s a snapping sound as the pen nib breaks under the pressure.
Jimmy: ‘Ah didnae hink ye’d stull bae here. Yerr stickin it well.’
Reggie: ‘Hu..Hello Mr… Of course I remember you… how could I forget! What brings you here this time, somebody else die?’ He cant help but notice Jimmy’s rather erratic route to the chair and the smell of booze as he executes a heavy landing. It’s only five past nine in the morning!
Jimmy: ‘Nah! No iss time, ah’ve goat great news furr ye sir’ He slouches forward on the table, knocking over the black ink pot, spilling it over the big white blotter. ‘Ah’m a faither!’
Reggie: Forcing a smile whilst sliding the blotter off the desk into the wastebin, ‘Congratulations. Boy or girl?’ The psychiatists would be proud, he’s holding up well.
Jimmy: ‘Eh. Ah think it’s a boay.’
Reggie: ‘You think!?
Jimmy: ‘Aye. Ye see, ah hivnae actually bin hame yit!’ He holds up his finger to emphasise a point, ‘But, it’s def’nitly wan… urr the ither!’ He sits back, folds his arms and nods to himself, chuffed that he’s managed to answer the first of what he knows from experience will be difficult questions.
Reggie: ‘Don’t you think you should go home first and see the little ba… baby?’
Jimmy: ‘Nae need son, eh wife sent wurd tae the pub wae aw eh details. She telt meh thit whin ah sobered up, tae get mah erse doon here an register eh burth!’
Reggie: ‘And when was this?’
Jimmy: ‘Last Tuesday!’
Reggie: ‘That was a week ago man!’
Jimmy: ‘Ah know son, bit ye know how eez hings urr! It took a while furr meh tae get tae the state ah soberness thit ye see meh in noo. Thir wiz a loat ah celebratin wae eh lads innat! They aw kept throwin drink intae meh an invitin meh tae perties innat’
Reggie: ‘But, excuse me for saying but I thought you said the last time we met that your wife had… passed on?’
Jimmy: ‘Oh aye! So she hiz, ah should hiv said. Eh auld yin popped urr cloags years ago. Bit ah met this lassie an wae deciditt tae get igither an live iz man an wife, ye know lik common law innat.’
Reggie: ‘I see. And when did this come about?’
Jimmy: ‘Last Tuesday.’
Reggie: ‘Eh! Sorry, I dont mean to be insensitive. Let me get this straight. You’ve been with this girl for…’
Jimmy: ‘Six months. Aye, six wunnerfull months son, an noo she’s made meh a faither. Great wee lassie she is.’
Reggie: ‘Six months you say. Em. Excuse me for asking this but… are you sure the baby is yours?’
Jimmy: ‘Oh aye son. Def’nitly. She telt meh ursell. It wiz even boarn wae eh name Jimmy!’
Reggie: ‘Oh well, that clinches it then doesn’t it!’ He senses the sarcasm creeping into his voice and struggles to fight it back. Taking a deep breath he digs a new pen and wee bottle of ink from the drawer. The bottle of Bells grins at him and he feels a slight twitch return to his eye. He slams the drawer shut and continues. ‘Let’s get some details shall we?’
Jimmy: ‘Sure, fire away son,’ he slurs.
Reggie: ‘Okay. Where was the child born?’
Jimmy: ‘Och aht’s an easy wan – in eh bed! Ye know, the wan in the recess. Lik ah said ah wiz in eh pub it eh time.’
Reggie: ‘Yes, I’m aware of that, but perhaps you might tell me the address?’
Jimmy: ‘Middletons Bar, at eh coarner a Garngad Road an Middleton St.’
Reggie: ‘No, no, not the pub, your home address.’
Jimmy: ‘Oh, right, ye mean wher ah stie innat?’
Reggie nods
Jimmy: ‘33 Rhymer Street. Wan up oan eh left. Oh aht mines meh, it’s mah turn eh the sterrs eh night!’
Reggie: ‘Did the midwife leave you a… note?’
Jimmy: ‘Whit midwife? Thir wis nae midwife son. The wean wiz delivered bae the auld wummin nixt door. She’s good it aht kinna hing. Goat a hoose full a cats. Delivirt em aw ersell, knows whit she’s daein aht wummin.’
Reggie: ‘How nice. And exactly what time was the child born?’
Jimmy: ‘Right, ah kin answer aht wan. It seems eh wean popped oot jist iz the coalman arrived wae the coal.’
Reggie: ‘The coalman?’
Jimmy: ‘Three Thirty every Tuesday efternin, regular as cloackwork oor coalman, his name’s Jimmy as well, that’s whin eh wean wiz boarn!’
Reggie: ‘Are you sure about that?’
Jimmy: Oh aye son, wiv hid the same coalman furr two years noo, never bin late. Aeways geez eh wife a wee bit extra so ah’m telt! The wean wiz boarn tae the soond eh the coal rumblin intae the bunker beside eh bed!
Reggie starts getting the ‘facts’ down on paper. His flowing script entering the details for posterity.
Reggie: ‘And your name please?’
Jimmy: ‘Jimmy.’
Reggie: Experiencing a sudden attack of déjà vu he treads carefully. ‘And what’s your second name, Jimmy...' He meticuously enters the details.
Reggie: ‘Do you realise that the child will be considered illegitimate unless the pair of you get married?
Jimmy: ‘Eh? Whit?
Reggie: ‘I’m afraid so. The child will unfortunately be recorded as a bastard… of the adulterine variety’
Jimmy: ‘You cawin mah wean a bastard pal?’ Rising and steadying himself against the table before falling back again into the chair.
Reggie: ‘I’m afraid that’s the law sir. And anyway, I ask you again, are you sure the baby is yours?’
Jimmy: ‘Coarse ah’m sure. It must bae mine.’
Reggie : Drawing on all his reserves of diplomacy. ‘How can you be sure? When did the err…act…take place?’
Jimmy: ‘The whit?’
Reggie: ‘You know the…act of conceivement.’
Jimmy: ‘Ye mean kissin innat?’
Reggie: ‘I think I mean a bit more than just kissing.’
Jimmy: ‘Aw wait a wee minnit! Urr you referin tae... Let meh tell ye this boay, thir wiz nane ah aht. A come fae a good proddy faimly. Nane eh aht hanky panky wae me mate ah’ll let ye know!’
Reggie: ‘Then how do you account for the birth of the child?’
Jimmy: ‘Well…’ Thinking hard. ‘Mibbay it wiz wan eh they immasculate contraptions ye hear aboot in eh bible?’
Reggie: Puzzled for a moment. ‘You mean, Immaculate Conception?’
Jimmy: ‘Aye! Wan eh thaem!’
Reggie goes to the window, parts the curtains, shades his eyes with his hand against the low morning sun, and looks up the length of Duke Street.
Jimmy: ‘Whit urr ye daein son?’
Reggie: ‘Well, the last time something like this happened, three men on camels came from the east!’
Jimmy: ‘Zattright!? Ye mean… fae Carntyne?’
Once again Happy Christmas to you all, wherever you are
Bob.
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