Trials and Retribution

The meetin is ten o’clock sharp. This gees the usual rabble time tae git chased tae their classes. Ma maw geed me both barrels last night. A went in stoned oot ma heed, just tae numb the fuckin inevitable roastin A wis gonnae git. It hud worked, after a fashion. She wore hurself oot n A skulked tae bed wae nae proverbial supper. It hud been a long day doggin it yesterday but the day is gonnae be longer. We’re in the ‘bad boy seats’ outside the headmaster’s office. Me n ma maw, Addison n his maw n Wee Broonie n his da ir aw sittin here. Ma maw’s got tae head straight tae work after, so she’s git on a plain white blouse n black trousers. Addison’s maw hus a grey power skirt-suit on. Broonie’s da looks like he’s been up aw night n no wae worry. He’s git on an eld HEAD jumper n worky jeans even though he’s on the bru. Me n Addison’s git our tie n blazer on n Broonie’s awready git a tracky on in anticipation ae the inevitable suspension that’s comin our way. There’s big blue partition screens roon these wee reception seats tae hide yi fae the rest ae the school population. Wee guys n burds ir glancin through and whisperin as they walk tae second period cos we’re famous as fuck noo. The din fades n they aw disappear.

McGiver’s roarin at somebody on the other side ae the door. Broonie n his da ir tryin tae hold back a smile. A wid let one creep roon ma face if ma maw wisnae glarin at me. Liz Addison doesnae look one bit impressed. Hur businesslike persona seems intact n she seems, at most, inconvenienced by the whole affair. Ma maw looks at hur wits’ end. A think she’s been kept up worryin aboot the meetin n probably me in general. A come fae a good home yit A’m bad. Wit more kin she dae? It’s no that she’s a bad maw, A’m a bad son. Course they’re gonnae judge her n that’s ma fault. A feel bad aboot that at moments like these, a slight whip ae guilt penetratin the dark n heavy clouds ae don’t gee a fuck.

The door swings open n aw ae our heads turn tae look. A wee tiny boy walks oot, no even the height ae the plants which stand in pots around this wee tropical jungle. He’s walkin wae his tail between his legs. McGiver’s face starts tae fade fae shades ae beetroot. He straightens his suit jacket n tie and it’s aw business.

‘Good morning, Mrs Addison, Mrs Williams and Mr Brown. Hello, boys. Please follow me.’ We aw follow him intae his office. It’s a huge room, massive high ceilings n there’s a big solid relic ae a desk. There’s three comfortable chairs n three plastic wans been sat oot in anticipation ae our arrival. Broonie goes tae bounce on wan ae the comfy wans n the big chief points tae the wee plasticky numbers n almost smiles under that famous moustache. The big man seems cool n calm the day, cos rest assured if our parents wurnae here we’d be on the receivin end ae the fog horn. His calm is almost unsettlin, the big cunt. ‘So, let’s do things a wee bit differently today. Boys, would you care to start at the beginning? Or shall I give my account of events.’