It was the most content Fat Franny Duncan had been for almost two years. He was sat at the kitchen table in the Ponderosie, surrounded by sheafs of complex paperwork and unopened cardboard boxes. Credit where it was due, he thought. Don McAllister’s predictions about the viability of this new business plan had come to fruition, and at a faster pace than either of them had anticipated. Fat Franny had been permitted to take delivery of a warehouse full of new Philips VCRs. He had then been allowed to distribute these around Onthank and charge a weekly rental for them. Fat Franny could then increase his profits by renting VHS tapes to the same punters. Many of these tapes were being imported from Amsterdam and were pornographic in nature. The ice-cream vans – fronted by Terry Connolly and now also Wullie the Painter – were the distribution mechanisms for the business, with customers ordering titles by number from a monthly updated chart that the local paper boys delivered on their morning rounds. At the end of 1983, around 10 percent of UK households had a VCR. In Onthank – an impoverished, working-class area suffering the worst that Thatcher’s Britain could throw at it – the figure was more than four times the national average. And all of it down to Fat Franny Duncan’s change of business direction.
This had all been achieved by the collaboration with Don McAllister and Fat Franny’s part in Operation Double Nougat. The Ayrshire part of the operation sought to lure the fearsome Malachy McLarty and his crime family from Glasgow into a complex trap whereby they would have assumed control of various criminal business interests in order to push hard drugs and other stolen goods in the communities from a network of mobile sources. Increased surveillance and increased fear in Glasgow’s East End had seen the operation stall of late but, as the year drew to a close, it seemed that things were heating up again in and around Kilmarnock. The on-off miners’ disputes were beginning to cut deep. Initial resolve from many of the peripheral Ayrshire communities had turned to struggle and then desperation around the festive season. Operation Double Nougat’s leaders were predicting a ramping up of activity in the first few months of 1984. In Glasgow’s East End, hope and despair had long been the catalysts for dependency and addiction, and the violent exploitation with which it goes hand in hand. Don McAllister’s squad were as prepared as they thought they could be.
This had all changed Fat Franny Duncan’s fortunes, though. He now envisaged – as Don McAllister said he would – a legitimate business rising out of the ashes of the ice-cream van wars. He was grateful. He hadn’t been a decent man. He had instructed so many things he wasn’t proud of. So many crimes committed and so many people hurt. He had spent many dark nights of the soul during the last six months. He had resolve but was determined to apply it differently. While Fat Franny Duncan couldn’t claim it was a wonderful life, he was very thankful for this second chance.
Fat Franny imagined himself controlling a portfolio of shops when the vermicelli eventually settled. He was going to name the business Blockbusters after his mum’s new favourite TV show. Although increasingly frail and house-bound, Rose Duncan’s mental condition seemed to have stabilised in the previous few months. Fat Franny knew that she’d never fully recover, but having her able to converse with him periodically and remember things that had happened just days before as opposed to when she was only five, made him blissfully happy. She’d even started saying ‘Can I have a “P” please, Bob?’ on the occasions when she needed Fat Franny to help her go to the toilet. He couldn’t wait to see her face when she saw the Christmas present he’d bought her. It was an electric chair that would be fitted to a rail going up the stairs. It would allow her to recover some independence in getting back up to her bedroom without Fat Franny having to carry her.
He put away his paperwork and smiled. Takings were up on the previous weeks. It was a steady climb in profitability, and he didn’t even need to leave the house. He’d handed over full control of his previous business lists, debts and connections to Terry Connolly. That’s all it had taken. Why hadn’t he done this years ago? He smiled at the thought.
‘Ma? Are ye ready for yer soup?’ It was just about time for a special Christmas edition of Blockbusters. ‘Can I have a “P & Ham” please Bob?’ she had said earlier.
Fat Franny went through to the living room where the theme tune was already playing. Rose Duncan looked like she was asleep, her head simply resting over to one side. But Fat Franny knew. He placed the tray with her soup bowl and plate of bread, buttered and with the crusts removed, down on her small folding table. He lifted her glasses off her face and dabbed the saliva that was dribbling out of the side of her mouth with his sleeve. He leaned over and gently kissed her cheek before wiping away his own tears that had fallen there.
‘You jist have a wee sleep, Mam. Ah’ll record Bob an’ we can watch him later, eh?’
Fat Franny Duncan went back through to the kitchen and telephoned for an ambulance.