A Lawwell Christmas Carol Part Three

Part Three

Lawwell had been sleeping for a few hours. It wasn't a restful sleep as the two spectral visits were weighing heavily on his mind. He began to dream and in that dream another ghost appeared to him. It was Tommy Burns and he was standing next to Lawwell in a damp and gloomy house in the east end where Declan Scratchit and his family were living in poverty. 'These are the people who worship Celtic Lawwell, and would do anything just to serve the club and yet you pay them pennies and this is how they are forced to live.'
'But this is a dream, you can't be a ghost, this can't be real - not within a dream!' cried Lawwell.
'We move in mysterious ways Lawwell and this is how I prefer to operate - there's less paperwork this way. Look upon Tiny Tim, see how he breathes heavily? A few shillings more a week and they could feed him.'
'A few less children and they could feed them all!'
'That's as maybe but you'd have to take that up with a higher power than me, I'm only the Ghost of Celtic Present,' and with that, he disappeared and Lawwell watched as Tiny Tim began to cough and cough and cough and then Lawwell woke up. The coughing continued though and there at the door of his bedroom was another recognisable figure, it was Alex Mosson. 'But, but, you're not dead, you can't be a ghost,' stammered Lawwell, sitting up in his bed.
'Of course I'm not a ghost you dolt, I'm just robbing your house now go back to sleep.'