[48] A Glasgow Dynasty: Part 2 - Pissin' in the Sink

Ringo had spent an unusually long time in the bathroom, a fact that was not lost on Tam, who was now knocking on the door.

“Haw Ringo, hiv ye fell asleep in there or whit?”

“Ah’ll no be a minute,” he replied, his voice muffled as he dried his face while he spoke.

“Ye said that five minutes ago,” said Malky, who had now joined his father in the hallway.

“Aw it’s up?” exclaimed Tam, looking disdainfully over his shoulder at Malky who stood in nothing but a pair of grubby underpants.

“Ah’m burstin by the way,” he announced, both hands tucked inside his pants, his body crouched forward to ease the pressure on his bladder.

“Forget it pal,” said Tam. “Ah’m furst.”

“Aw fur fucksake da ah’ll no be a minute. Ah’m desperate.”

“An ah’m no like?”

“Are you want’n a pish or a shite?”

“Mind yer ain business.”

“Och ah’ll away doon an pish in the sink then.”

Malky turned and proceeded down the stairs, one hand still inside his pants while the other held on to the banister.

“See’n take the dishes oot the sink furst this time ya mucky wee bugger ye.”

Tam heard the click of the lock being freed and he stepped back as the bathroom door opened. Ringo emerged and Tam was surprised to see that he was wearing his one and only suit and a crisp white shirt. His hair was neatly combed and his breath smelt of toothpaste.

“Jeezo whit’s aw this?” said Tam. “Ah hardly recognised ye there. Fur wan horrible second ah thought ah wiz in the wrang hoose.”

“Ah telt ye last night da. Ah’m up afore the Sheriff the day.”

“Oh aye. Ye got done fur pishin up a close didn’t ye.”

Tam stepped into the bathroom as he spoke.

“D’ye think tartin yersel up like a bliddy poof’s gonnae impress they bastarts?”

“Can ah borrow a tie?”

“A tie anaw? Ye’re gettin done fur pishin son, no mass murder. A collar’n tie’s no gonnae make much odds is it?”

“Look can ah hiv a tie or no?”

“Aye on ye go,” said Tam as he closed the door between them. “Take wan oot the wardrobe.”

He screwed up his nose as the strong scent of cheap aftershave suddenly hit him.

Ringo stood in front of the bedroom mirror and fiddled with the tie. It took him four attempts to get it right before he finally pulled down his shirt collar and adjusted the knot. He stood back and half turned to examine his whole appearance. He took his comb and ran it through his hair which felt shinier and smoother than he could ever remember. He then licked his index finger and ran it across his right eyebrow. He wasn’t at all sure why he did it but he had seen film stars do it and that was good enough for him.

His posturing was brought to a sudden and dramatic halt by the sound of a woman screaming, followed by Malky shouting, “Jesus Christ” then the crash of shattering crockery.

Ringo raced downstairs and into the kitchen where Malky was spread-eagled on the floor amid a mess of broken cups and plates and an upturned stool. He rubbed at his knee and uttered a string of curses as he gently got to his feet and stood in front of the sink, leaning forward to look out of the window.

“Ah wiz hivin a pish ya silly auld cow,” he yelled, his face red and contorted with a mixture of pain and rage.

“Whit’n God’s name’s gaun on here?” said Ringo.

He looked out of the window in time to see old Mrs McDermott from next door rush frantically along the path and through the gate as though she was fleeing some untold horror.

“Ah’m staunin on the stool pishin in the sink,” protested Malky, still rubbing his aching knee.

“When aw a sudden that auld eejit appears at the windae. Ah wiz lookin doon, ye know, watchin whit ah wiz dain like. Then ah heard this God almighty scream. Ah nearly shit masel an before ah knew whit wiz happ’nin ah loast ma balance an doon ah went.”

Ringo tried hard to suppress his laughter.

“Ye better get this lot cleared up afore ma da comes doon. Ah’m off.”

“Aye awright,” replied Malky, bending down to pick up the shattered debris. “The silly auld bugger. Ah could’ve broke ma bliddy neck bay fuck.”