The evil, evil cow.
Mia and Thomas have tried telling Jasmine what she’s doing, but Jasmine doesn’t believe them because Ailish has brainwashed her. Mia was crying about Jack last time we Skyped, and I was too. Mum says we’d need evidence before social services would intervene and maybe Mia could set up a camera or something, but footage of a toddler in a playpen probably wouldn’t cut it.
It’s so not fair.
It’s Thomas all over again.
This time, though, she’s not getting away with it. Some people just shouldn’t be around kids, and okay so Ailish isn’t as bad as Jed and Bitch, but she’s still pretty fucking bad.
‘It’s not like I’m wanting Ryan to put out a hit on her or anything. Although…’
Connor whips his head round.
‘I’m joking! God, Connor! But I’ve been thinking maybe framing her for burglary isn’t the way to go.’
All he says is ‘Oh aye?’ but he’s obviously thinking Thank fuck for that.
‘It would be her first offence, so she probably wouldn’t even get a custodial sentence. But I’ve been thinking – what if she was filmed being super-neglectful and there were witnesses and she was convicted of child neglect?’
‘We cannae hurt a bairn.’
‘Of course not! But what I’m thinking is, one really hot day in summer when she’s doing her Super Gran stuff, one of Ryan’s goons can somehow give her Rohypnol and get her and Jack and the buggy and her car into town. Somewhere there’s no CCTV. Park up the car, get a load of alcohol down Ailish, and leave her slumped on a bench or somewhere with the empty buggy and an empty bottle of Bailey’s. Meanwhile, one of the goons, acting the concerned citizen, has to smash the car window to get Jack out of the boiling hot car before he dies of dehydration and heat shock. They wouldn’t actually leave him in the car, but with no CCTV, who’s to know? They take him to the nearest hospital and the police get involved. Someone else meanwhile secretly films Ailish as she’s coming round, as she’s realising “Fuck where’s Jack?” and going mental, staggering around with the empty buggy looking for him. The footage goes up on YouTube, all her Facebook friends get sent the link, and she’s trolled by a load of self-righteous bitches just like her. Then hopefully she’s arrested for child neglect, and her life’s basically over. And she never gets near Jack again.’
‘Aw Christ Beckie.’
‘Would Ryan be able to organise all that from prison?’
‘Aye, but –’
‘Ryan owes us big time.’
I can’t wait to see Mum’s face when I’m like ‘Oh Mum look at this that Mia sent me!’ and I show her the YouTube footage of Ailish and she reads all the troll stuff. She’s going to be ‘Oh that’s dreadful’ but secretly she’ll be going Yes!
Andrew’s right. One thing I’ve learned from all the shit that’s happened to me is that being a dove just gets you fucked over. Like Mum and Dad were by Bitch. And like Mum was by that Tricia girl. If she had stood up to Tricia she would never have got into all that trouble in the first place.
I do kind of wonder about that, though. I mean, the bow and arrow. How is it possible to accidentally fire an arrow at someone? Even if you tripped up, wouldn’t you just let go of the bow as well as the arrow and they would both just get dropped to the ground? And how could that Gail tell it was an accident?
But I so would not blame Mum if it wasn’t.
Tricia had it coming. People like Tricia and Ailish and Bitch, they’re hawks and they’ll basically try to shaft you every time. You have to be a crow. You have to shaft them back.
‘He’ll be able to organise that, you reckon?’
Connor shrugs. ‘Aye.’
‘And you’ll ask him? It’s really not a big deal, is it, compared with the stuff he’s already done? Compared with, oh, I don’t know… murdering my dad?’
Connor looks at me sideways. ‘Beckie –’
‘Yeah yeah, heard it all before. Will you ask him or will you not, Connor?’
‘Aye, okay then.’
And now we’re turning into Andrew’s road on the edge of Westport. It’s called Abattoir Road which doesn’t exactly sound like it’s a brilliant address, but it’s out in nice countryside with lots of grass and trees between the houses and there’s a view of the mountains, and his house is nowhere near the actual abattoir. And Connor suddenly slows down and says, ‘Check the fantail!’ and he points up into a tree and there’s a fantail jumping about in there flicking his tail and it really does look like a fan, it doesn’t look real, and I’m ‘Awww amazing!’
And now we’re at Andrew’s house and he’s waiting at the end of his drive in a black T-shirt with the Crab Nebula on it and brown trousers that so don’t go, and when he sees the car slowing down he waves in a really dorky way, like he’s making a circle in the air with his hand, and he’s grinning like Wallace out of Wallace and Gromit, and Connor’s saying ‘The wee fuckwit’ and oh my God I love my life.
From Jane
Firstly, I must thank you for enduring the Johnsons throughout this novel. That is quite a feat. My long-suffering friends and family have also had to put up with a lot – thank you, all of you, for humouring me when I bore you with all the (often) gory details of my latest plot idea, and for refraining from committing a real-life murder.
The only people to read Watch Over Me in its early stages were Lesley McLaren (www.mediterraneanpyrenees.com) and Lucy Lawrie (author of Tiny Acts of Love and The Last Day I Saw Her), my wonderful writer friends, who as always provided everything I needed, from the impetus to write it in the first place, to how to solve problems with the plot and characters, to the nitty-gritty of sorting out the text (yes, Beckie’s original dialogue was too annoying?), not to mention endless encouragement and patience throughout the whole process. Thank you both for taking so much time from your own writing to help me – and for all the laughs!
Author Cathryn Grant was kind enough to offer very valuable advice, particularly about how much Glaswegian dialect the novel could take without becoming too incomprehensible to readers outside Scotland. Thank you, Cathryn!
I am hugely indebted to the team at Inkubator Books. Pauline Nolet picked up an embarrassingly high number of mistakes in her careful read of the manuscript. Brian Lynch and Garret Ryan took a chance on a ‘random’ (as Lorraine would say) and made the scary process of preparing for publication not scary at all – in fact, it has been great fun! I am extremely lucky to have found a publisher that offers such excellent and intelligent help with all things editorial– from the big picture to the smallest detail – combined with an in-depth knowledge of marketing. Thank you so much for all your guidance and support, and for your enthusiasm for Watch Over Me. In Johnson-speak: belter!
Finally, reviews are so important to us authors. I would be very grateful if you could spend a moment to write an honest review (no matter how short). They really do help get the word out.
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Best wishes,
Jane
www.janerenshaw.co.uk
Glossary of Scottish Slang
aff off
airch to throw
alky alcoholic
aye yes