Tam The Bunnet

Tam the Bunnet


The day was wearing late when Tam, in a magnanimous gesture, refused “one for the road”.

“Ah love ye like a brother, Johnny” said Tam, rising unsteadily to his feet, “but ah love ma wee burd Kate mair”.

Meanwhile, not a million miles away, Kate was working herself up into a proper state. Tam was due back hours ago. His supper was long since in the dog. He would no doubt stagger in all apologies, professions of true and abiding love and promises never to do it again. She always fell for it. But not this time. This time she would nurse her wrath and keep it boiling.

“Christ, is that the time, Johnny? Ah’d better take the car. No, no, ah’m perfectly capable o’driving’ a couple o’miles”.

Tam’s pride and joy was his ancient MG BGT, in British Racing Green which he had christened “Meg”. On a whim, he decided to take a short detour through his old stomping ground – The Gorbals.

“Where’s the action around here?” he mumbled to himself.

Just then, the strains of some old Rolling Stones tracks filtered into his conscious mind. Looking around, he spotted a chink of light from a ground floor tenement flat. As he drove near, the volume of the music increased. Intrigued, he stopped the car and wandered over, drawn by the magnetic attraction of the music.

By standing on a dustbin Tam was able to keek through a crack in the curtains. And what an unco sight. He seemed to have stumbled on a low-life’s convention. Tam pulled his trade mark tartan bunnet low over his brow and took in the scene.

On the table were a collection of knuckle-dusters, flick-knives and hand-guns. Had someone painted that truncheon red or was it…..

The opening bars of “Satisfaction” boomed out. Tam suppressed a laugh at the sight of the toothless, bald, tattooed and scarred men strutting their stuff along with the hags. Then Tam became bewitched. A nubile blonde lassie, just about contained within a low-cut micro-mini dress, began gyrating in a suggestive manner whilst swigging from a bottle of Cutty Sark.

“Johnny’s no gonnae believe this” thought Tam, digging into his coat pocket for the old Olympus. He raised it to his eye and gently depressed the shutter release. The flash illuminated the entire room.

For half a second the dancers were frozen in time and space, then all Hell broke loose. Everyone grabbed a weapon and flew out like bees from a hive. Tam stepped back and fell off the dustbin. A pain shot up his leg as he limped as fast as possible back to the car. It was then he spotted the puncture.

With the hellish legion fast approaching Tam gunned the engine and Meg limped down the road in sympathy with her master. If only he could reach Nicholson Street, the Police Station would deter his pursuers. As he approached the corner he glanced in the rear view mirror. Cutty Sark emerged from the throng on a motor-cycle, waving a vicious grappling hook on the end of a chain.

The grappling hook arced through the air and Tam heard the sickening crunch of metal followed by a terrifying loss of power.

If Kate could see him now, all thoughts of retribution would disappear as she prayed for his mortal soul.

Meg leaped round the corner into Nicholson Street, leaving behind her rear bumper and the tail of her exhaust pipe.

Tam screeched to a halt and emerged into the welcoming arms of PC Bob “Soapy” Sutherland.

Our hero was suspended from driving for twelve months, sufficient time to save up for Meg’s repair.

On his next visit to the pub, by bus, Tam bought a round which ensured a suitable audience of drouthy neighbours for his story. Tam fancied himself as a Teller of Tales. With a healthy dollop of dramatic license he described the whistling of machine-gun bullets and explosion of hand grenades.

He finished on a cautionary note.


Whene’er tae bevvy you’re inclined,
Or mini-skirts run through yer mind,
Afore ye sit an’ drain the keg
Remember Tam the Bunnet's Meg.

I enjoyed this immensely. The updating of the tale’s detail is very skilful and satisfying. My favourite phrase was the dinner ‘long since in the dog.’

It reads like a finely polished piece, so I don’t know if you want critical comments at this stage. But, he carries an Olympus with him on a drinking session? And I would cavil at the redundancy in ‘drawn by the magnetic attraction.’

Thanks Graham. Excellent points. I'll change to "magnetically drawn".
Do mobile phone cameras have a built in flash? If so, I'll drop the Olympus.
David.

I'm pretty sure they do but mine doesn't even have a camera. It's difficult to google on because flash has alternative meanings but click this for phones with front facing flash so the implication is yes they have.

Excellent! You made me LOL!

I really enjoyed this David! - an excellent updating of an old shaggy tale! Smart phones with cameras do indeed have in built flashes .