The Mattress: The Glasgow Chronicles 4 Read Online Free PDF Page A

nothing different or unusual aboot this place tae whit he’d been in before, other than the size ae the cell.  Wan bare digger cell, wae a moulded concrete plinth bed in wan corner, always under the windae, opposite a bare door that hid a spy-hole in it and a light bulb, submerged intae the wall and oot ae reach, high above the door, wis the same as the next.  The only moveable object, apart fae himsel, wis the plastic chanty pot that wis sitting oan the flair fur him tae dae a pish or shite in, oot ae sight ae the spy-hole, in the corner, beside the door.  He turned aroond and faced the windae wall.  The noise wis the loudest he’d heard it, so far, and it wis only day wan.  He could picture aw the boys in the shed.  If his memory served him right, there wur aboot a dozen steel-framed, welded pallet tables, wae two boys allocated tae each table.  Two times twelve made twenty four ae the basturts, aw gieing it laldy.  Fur tools, a crow bar wis shared between each pair ae boys and a claw hammer wis signed oot tae each wan first thing in the morning.  Some pallets wid need a total rebuild while some jist needed a replacement spar tae be eased intae the gap where the bust or broken wan hid been removed.   Whit aw the pallets hid in common when they came intae the shed wis that they wur gonnae get a severe gaun o’er by some noisy basturt wae a claw hammer in wan haun and a clutch ae four inch nails in the other.  
      Johnboy smiled tae himsel, as a solution tae make life a wee bit mair comfortable fur that brain ae his dawned oan him.  He thought aboot sharing his anti-noise-up plan wae Silent, his partner in crime, who wis in the cell next door, bit he wis so pissed aff wae him fur getting the two ae them intae this situation, that he decided tae let the skinny basturt suffer in silence, and enjoy the racket coming fae the pallet shed ootside their cell windaes.  It wis so simple because it wis staring him in the face, that he wondered why the fuck he’d never thought aboot it before noo.  He knew that as soon as the screws came oan duty in the morning, usually aboot six o’clock, they made ye dump yer mattress, blanket and pillow oot intae the corridor and swapped yer stripy pyjamas fur yer uniform.  They then slung ye back intae yer empty cell, wance ye’d emptied yer chanty pot ae pish doon the cludgie at the end ae the digger corridor.  Ye wur then expected tae hing aboot aw day, until aboot hauf eight at night, when the bun boy, escorted by a screw, came roond wae a mug ae tea and an auld stale bun fur ye.  It wis then that ye swapped yer uniform fur yer pyjamas and goat tae take yer mattress, blanket and pillow back intae the cell until the next morning.  Johnboy decided tae fuck them by gaun oan the night-shift.  He wid sleep aw day and then when he goat his sleeping gear in at night, he wid lie awake, basking in the luxury ae his pish-stained horsehair mattress, wrapped up in a warm flimsy moth-chomped blanket, wae that heid ae his oan a nice saft feathered pillow.  By sleeping during the day, his time wid fly by, and at night, he’d lie, in the stillness ae the night, collecting his thoughts.  There wur three things that he needed tae sort oot first though.  The first thing wis where tae kip during the day?  There wis jist nae comfort tae be hid, lying oan the moulded concrete bed oan the flair.  He’d tried it and hid ended up tossing that way and this way.  He’d tried lying face doon oan it wae his chin over-hinging the feet end ae it, bit his clammy forehead hid kept getting stuck tae the red gloss painted flair.  He’d tried sitting wae his back tae the wall wae his erms oan his knees and his heid oan his erms.  That hid been okay fur aboot twenty minutes and then the back ae his neck hid started tae get sore.  The lack ae comfort tae be hid while trying tae get comfortable oan the concrete bed or flair, always seemed tae be connected tae they erms ae his.  No matter where