A Lawwell Christmas Carol

Part One

It was Christmas Eve at Celtic Park and Declan Scratchet was sitting by the light of one candle at his desk outside Peter Lawwell's office. From where he sat he could hear the screams as Lawwell laid into his latest visitors with a knout but he was as used to this as he was to sitting in the cold all winter as he scoured every newspaper for any sign of an anti-Celtic article or column which he'd then take to his master and then the shouting down the phone would begin as Lawwell went to work on the author or mostly, the editor in charge of the offending journalist. Declan shivered, not from the cold this time but from the thought of what he had to ask Lawwell today - he was looking for a pay rise; he had to, his ninth and youngest child, Tiny Tim wasn't faring too well and an increase in wages would help feed and clothe him properly but it was a harrowing task as Declan couldn't be sure if he'd get the extra shilling or a thrashing. Inside Lawwell's office the knouting stopped and he could hear the sobs of a hardened journalist of the old school. Declan shivered again.