by William-John Deerin

It was the last day of the summer holidays when Johnnie Mann told us about the swing. We were huddled together at the back of his old man’s corrugated garage sharing a cigarette when he made his announcement.
“Guess what? I’ve found a new swing and it’s the best one I’ve been on in a long while. It’s even better than the one that used to be down the gully.”
Johnnie dragged deeply on the cigarette before passing it to Nardie McHardie who burnt his fingers during the exchange and let out an unholy curse.
“You ought to see it for yourselves.” Johnnie continued, ignoring Nardie who was now furiously sucking on his blistered fingers.
“Where did you say it was?” asked Daz White.
“I didn’t.” Johnnie said grinning. “But it’s down at the back of the Blind Man’s Home. It’s on a tree that hangs over where the railway line used to be, about a quarter of a mile from the Iron Bridge.”
Johnnie was enjoying his momentary hold over us. He was the oldest and had just had his thirteenth birthday and liked to think he knew more than the rest of us. There were five of us. Daz, Nardie, Johnnie, Sanny and me. They call me Lenny but I prefer Len. Sanny was Johnnie’s little brother and was a bit younger than the rest of us but we had to take him with us for Johnnie’s sake or his old man would go ballistic. Their mother left them shortly after Sanny was born. My old man said she ran away with someone, but I don’t know for sure, as no one ever talks about it now.
It was Sanny who mentioned the swing was in enemy territory. The Blind Man’s Home and the old railway were across the Iron Bridge and that put them in foreign fields. Johnnie smiled. He was in his element.
“Well spotted brother.” He said in a mature tone. “Yes, the swing is in Little Holland, the land of the “Dykes” and the “Young Parnell Boys,” our nearest and dearest enemies. No doubt you’ll be wondering how I found it in the first place with it being down there?”
No one was, as we knew Johnnie’s older brother was going out with a girl from Parnell Street, which was on the other side of the field from the Blind Man’s Home, and he would probably have told Johnnie about the swing in the first place. This was how Johnnie got to know most things. We played along and listened to how Johnnie claimed to have come across it when he was reconnoitring the area in case we had some future trouble down that way.
“Let’s go tonight,” suggested Daz. “After tea.”
“Sound fine to me.” This was Nardie who was still sucking his blistered finger. We all nodded. A drizzle of rain began to fall. We huddled closer, agreed to meet after tea, and lit another cigarette.

We weren’t particularly bothered about going into another area. The boys from Parnell Street weren’t that hard and we knew most of them from school anyway. The “Dykes” were far enough away not to be a problem. What could be a bit of a problem however, were the neds that hung about the back of the Crimpy Crisp Factory at the far end of our street. They had a habit of picking on Johnnie because his big brother used to hang out with them, but since he had got a girlfriend he hadn’t been around them much. Mostly they kidded us, which was ok. They would ask Johnnie who the poor girl was that was having to put up with his brother.
The girls that hung about with the neds weren’t much better. They would tease us and ask us if we had taken it out of the wrapper yet and things like that. Then they would snigger and laugh at some joke that only they knew. We thought they were dogs. Sometimes the neds would turn nasty if we didn’t play up to them and invariably it was us that got hurt. As far as I was concerned they were ignorant morons best avoided whenever possible.
We didn’t have any alternative but to go along to the end of our street, passed the Spice Importers and the Nut & Bolt Works before reaching the Crisp Factory. Most of the people we knew worked in one of these places or the Biscuit Factory on Nicobar Street. Thankfully we didn’t see any of the neds as we passed by on our way to the Iron Bridge, just some of our neighbours on their way home from work.
We were quite excited about going to the swing, as Johnnie had said it hung quite a bit out from the embankment and you had to run and jump to get on it. We kidded Sanny on about it being too dangerous for him to try and that he could keep guard for us. He hated when we did this to him and would curse back at us.
We cut through the grounds of the old Home after we passed the Iron Bridge. This was partly so we wouldn’t be seen so easily and it let us creep up on the swing in case anyone else was there and we had to come at them. It was also good fun going through the woods of the old Home. None of us could remember when it was last used as a home for blind men. To us it was a derelict building that had always been there and was no longer of interest to us apart from Sanny who had never been inside it.
It wasn’t long before we saw the swing. Johnnie was right, this was a beaut of a swing. The rope was at least three inches thick and hung about ten feet from a large overhanging branch. The embankment was about twenty feet deep, so any fall would hurt like hell. We were delighted. No one was around; we had it all to ourselves. Even better was that Nardie had brought his sister’s red transistor radio with him. We tuned it in to the first station we managed to find.
Johnnie was first to try the swing. We had a kind of pecking order for most things that normally meant Johnnie went first and Sanny was last, with Daz, Nardie and me fighting it out to go second. The swing wasn’t as easy to get on as we hoped. You had to run and jump four or five feet off the edge of the embankment and the thickness of the rope didn’t make it easy to get a grip once you reached the swing. Not that we said as much. We each took our turn and managed as best we could. Once on the rope it was brilliant. You could swing up really high and the view was brilliant too. You could see along the old railway line all the way down to the Brick Works, which was about a mile away.
Getting off was just as hard. You had to time your jump on the way in so that when you let go you were over the top of the embankment and a small drop on to the grass. We took turns at catching each other as we jumped off, as it was possible to slip and end up at the bottom of the embankment. This happened to Sanny twice and Nardie once. Nardie claimed it was because of his blistered fingers that he let go too soon.
After a while we just sat and listened to the transistor radio. It wasn’t quite dark yet but beginning to turn that way. We all had favourite songs and it wasn’t long before we heard them being played. Daz had lifted a couple of fags from his old dear’s packet on his way out, so we shared a smoke as we sat and talked. The swing had been a good end to our holiday and especially so as we could boast to the Parnell Street Boys about being in their territory when we were back at school on Monday. This would give us the edge on them for quite a while.
Our only immediate problem would be getting passed the Crisp Factory and the neds as we headed back home. We were just about to do this when Sanny saw the girl. She was running hard across the field below us heading over towards the back of Parnell Street. We were about to call out to her our usual whoops and whistles when suddenly three neds came into view chasing after her.
We instinctively crouched down and turned silent. Nardie quickly turned off the transistor. It was obvious from where we were that the neds were going to catch up with her long before she would get across the field. We could hear the neds laughing. The girl looked round and saw that running was futile. She stopped and shrugged and made an appeal with her arms, as if pushing away an invisible body. We couldn’t hear what she was saying but if she was telling them to leave her alone her pleas were ignored. The neds were pulling and jostling at her. They pulled her cardigan off. The girl clung on to a sleeve but that just got her pulled her into the arms of one of the neds. It was Johnnie’s big brother. This took us completely by surprise. We hadn’t recognised him at first. I suppose we didn’t expect to see him there. We looked at Johnnie who seemed to ignore us. Sanny was just staring out watching his oldest brother. I didn’t know what to do and hoped that Johnnie would say something. By now the other two neds were lifting up the girl’s skirt as they danced about her. She was trying to push her skirt down and stop Johnnie’s brother from pulling at her blouse at the same time. Then she was down on the ground.
The two Neds were kneeling on her arms and Johnnie’s brother was pulling her skirt up. She tried to kick out but they were too strong for her and could easily dodge her kicks. We could hear the occasional scream. We were stunned by what was happening. None of us knew what to do, if anything, and Johnnie’s brother was there too. We couldn’t see that clearly what was happening, but all of us knew what they were doing to the girl. Johnnie’s brother was now lying on top of her and the two other neds were leaning in towards her. After another few seconds she stopped kicking and lay still. We stared on in silence, transfixed by the scene below us. A moment later we heard the sound of a whoop coming from Johnnies brother.
Nardie spoke first and told us to get the hell out of here. We all moved at the same time and ran back towards the grounds of the old Home. We didn’t stop running until we got to the Iron Bridge. We were too exhausted to speak. We leaned over, gasping, our hands supported by our knees, trying to catch our breath.
The rest of the way home was clear of trouble. We didn’t speak much. Johnnie said something to Sanny but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I kept wondering if the girl was Johnnie’s big brother’s girlfriend and if she was all right. Maybe she was laughing and not screaming, after all we were quite far away. Deep down I felt a bit sick. We should’ve done something. Maybe if we had shouted down to them it would’ve changed what happened. I don’t know, I just wish we had done something.
Daz and Nardie lived near the bottom of our street and left us just after we passed the Spice Importers. They didn’t say anything but just waved in a kind of half hearted way. Johnnie and Sanny would be next. I wondered if anything would be said between Johnnie and his older brother later that night. We walked on in silence. I lived at the furthest end of our street and knew I would have to walk the last few hundred yards on my own.

© William-John Deerin

Five young boys enjoying one last summer adventure before going back to school come into contact with the cruelty of the adult world.

William-John Deerin has lived in Lanarkshire most of his life. His first two poems were published in the Asphalt Garden on a double spread next to a story by James Kelman. An auspicious start but followed by other poems disappearing in obscure and short lived magazines. A number of poems were included in the anthology Mistaken Identities. William-John designed and edited the anthology ‘Stepping into the Avalanche’ writing the preface and introductions to the contributors. A volume of his own poetry entitled ‘A Starling’s Eye’ was published in 2005.