The Young Team

THE YOUNG TEAM

GRAEME ARMSTRONG

PICADOR

Contents

For Lesley,
proof of guardian angels

Once on a summer afternoon, as I watched the young men wandering among the ranges of slag heaps outside Airdrie, I was foolish enough to wonder how it was that no sage or Mahatma had ever risen among them, for they seemed to me to have nothing to do but think.

Edwin Muir, Scottish Journey, 1935

PART I

Crucible

Young team: Term originally used by the East End razor gangs of interwar Glasgow. Sectarian and fiercely territorial, groups from different areas would engage in everything from casual one-upmanship to open street warfare.

The latter form – or, more specifically, the three letter acronym arising – is now used by ‘neds’ solely to give group identity to their immediate circle of friends.

The Urban Dictionary

Urban Legends

2004

The rain n wind ir fuckin howlin. We’re aw stood intae a wee corner oot the wet n away fae the eager eyes ae Strathclyde’s finest. At weekends our area is jumpin wae polis, aw lookin tae bust yi. They never wanted tae git their boots muddy walkin doon the Mansion but, so yi wur usually safe in here. There’s two community polis that sometimes ventured doon n busted cunts rollin joints, the fat wan called Muldoon n the skinny wan we aw called the Roadrunner, cos he’s rapid. The elder wans hud told us aboot the polis raidin it once, before we aw knew ae the place’s existence. Swore they came through the doors wae a big snappy German shepherd. The troops wur steamin, launchin themselves oot the broken windaes. A git told wan even salmon-leapt tae escape, but landed in a big fuckin pile ae jaggies. He says a big fat polis looked oot the windae n muttered ‘fuck that’ n left him lyin in the nettles.

The buildin we’re in is a beauty. Elder cunts hud ripped aw the copper n lead oot the place. Easy a few hundred quids’ worth n a big juicy copper boiler. There’s always the sound ae water runnin where they ripped a pressurised mains pipe oot. The constant wee flow, peaceful as it is, is testament tae the fact that no cunt gives a fuck aboot the place. It’s forgotten n left fur the woods tae take back. On the left ae the hoose there’s a big archway. When yi walk underneath it there’s a wee secret door that leads tae another room wae nae windae. We brought a few candles up n sat them aboot tae see in the dark. Should the polis huv appeared they wouldnae know if we wur tokin a half-ounce or conductin a fuckin séance.

The stables stand tae the right wae a big stone courtyard in front. Inside there’s aw the individual booths fur the horses. It’s aw wooden-built inside n there’s steps leadin up tae a wee balcony. The wee windae panes above ir aw dirty n a good few ir panned in. There’s roots n loads ae weeds growin fae the stone floor.