One more point and the return amounted to one thousand and eighty, one thousand and eighty quid. A grand. All it required was one more point. 7/1.7 to 1 to the 135. £1080, less tax. Even better with the 15/2, that extra half point making sure it was more than the grand even after tax. One thousand pounds.
He checked the time through shop windows while he walked. He was walking at a steady pace. He passed other betting shops. He kept walking until he arrived at where he lived but he continued past the shop old Phil worked in, to a shop he only went into now and again. He glanced up at the board, the boardman was chalking in figures on the next race. His nap had finished third at 4/1. 4 to 1. His nap had finished third at four to one. Third at four to 1. Even if it had won he would not have reached the grand — nowhere near it, five hundred and thirty fives, it did not matter. £700 though. That would have been fine. Seven hundred quid. Six hundred. 675. Less tax, six hundred and seventy five ten pences.
He was walking in the direction of his own street but he remained on the main road and he walked back up the town and into a picture house.
•••
A couple of girls glanced at him. At the counter he ordered a roll and sausage and a cup of tea, and was given the tea immediately. He sat at one of the empty tables. There were four girls in the room, sitting beside each other. A man was snoring at another table, his head cradled on his crossed forearms, snoring quietly. Otherwise the club was deserted, the room where the chemmy took place in total darkness. He lighted a cigarette and stood up, and said to the girls: Fancy the telly on?
If you like.
He pulled a chair to the side of the counter and climbed onto it, reaching to switch it on. Later the woman came from the kitchen with his roll and sausage; he ordered another tea.
A play had begun on the television and he was watching it along with the girls and the woman. The doorbell rang. It rang again and the woman muttered, Tch, bloody door. . And she left to answer it. Moments afterwards she was followed in by four men, two going straight into the card room and then the kitchen. One of the other two said: Anybody seen Frank Callaghan?
No one replied. Tammas and the four girls continued staring at the television screen; the man at the table was still asleep, still snoring.
The other two men came from the kitchen with the woman. They had been speaking with her and now they walked back out again, going quite quickly. The one who was talking said to Tammas, How long you been here son?
About an hour.
The man sniffed and nodded. When did Frank go out?
Tammas shrugged.
He was here but?
I dont know.
The man took a handkerchief from his pocket and he blew his nose. He said to the girls: What about yous — you seen him?
No, replied one.
Then the man glanced at Tammas again: You a member of this club?
Who me? aye.
Glad to hear it. The man nodded, then nodded at his companion. He indicated the guy who was asleep, pursed his lips and shook his head. A moment later they had gone.
One of the girls called: That’s Frank then Alice eh!
The woman behind the counter nodded in reply. She was smoking a cigarette, holding it to her mouth in her right hand, her left forearm resting beneath her breasts. She stared at the television. But suddenly she moved: she shook her head and she stuck the cigarette into her mouth and she turned and said, I’m bloody sick of this. She strode round into the room and over to the man at the table, shook him by the shoulder. Away you go, she said, I’m sick of your damn snoring.
What. .
Away you go!
Aw Alice. .
No aw Alice — away you go bloody home.
Will you no give us a coffee? As he spoke the man had half risen from the chair, balancing himself against the edge of the table and moving in a sort of circular fashion. The woman was about to say something but the phone rang and she went quickly to answer it. Less than two minutes and she appeared in the kitchen doorway. Closing, she said.
The others all looked at her.
Closing, she said, stepping to the counter and lifting a couple of dirty plates; I’m closing for the night.
The man called, No even a coffee for the road Alice?
She glanced at him without speaking and he began grumbling unintelligibly while heading for the exit. And you lot can do the same, she said to Tammas and the four girls.
He followed them, along the corridor and out into the lane. The wind was quite strong and he turned up the lapels of his jacket. At the corner he paused as the girls stopped. Two of them went one way and he walked with the other two the opposite way. I’ll get yous along the road, he said.
Neither answered for several moments, until one replied, It’d be best if you didnt.
O aye, aye, sorry.
Naw, said the girl, shaking her head.
Tammas nodded.
Cheerio.
Aye. . He smiled and shrugged, walked quickly on by himself.
•••
He was lying full length on the settee, his legs protruding over the end arm; although the television was on at its normal volume he was staring to the side of it, in the direction of the curtains at the windows. The main living room light was off but in addition to the light coming from the screen there was a red glow from the electric fire. He yawned and glanced over the settee at the ashtray on the floor, there was the half of a cigarette lying in it; he picked it out and reached for his matches. He rose when he had it burning, leaving it wedged in the corner of his mouth, and he stared into the mirror above the mantelpiece, the shadows there affecting the way his face looked. Then noises from outside on the landing and he moved rapidly, switching off both the fire and the television, going along and into his own room, clicking shut the door, not putting on the light. It was his sister and brother-in-law. Once they had locked the outside door they went into the front room and then into the kitchen and their own bedroom, back into the kitchen; and the sound of the kettle being filled from the tap, and soon they were in the living room.
Not long afterwards Tammas got up off the bed, he stepped to the window and peered out. Down below the streetlamp lighting showed rain pattering steadily onto the wet tarmac and the concrete paving; it was around 10.30 pm.
•••
Tammas grinned. He shut his eyelids and shook his head, his elbow on the edge of the table and his chin being propped by his hand. He looked at Rab again, and he laughed. The two of them were sitting in the lounge of a pub in the city centre. It was threequarters full and a band was performing, using quite strong amplification. He drank some beer and put the pint back down, leaned slightly nearer to Rab: Next month!
Aye, next month.
To Rena you mean?
Naw, her maw.
Fuck sake! Tammas laughed. He drank more beer, shook his head again. What does your auld man have to say about it?
Fuck him. As long as I dont turn a pape he doesnt give a fuck. And he likes Rena as well — thinks she’s too fucking good for me!
So she is ya cunt! Tammas shook his head once more. Lucky bastard!
Rab grinned.
So you are man!
I’d have been fucking luckier if I’d still been amateur but I mean these cunts’ll be lifting a right few quid out the deal.
Minor matters!
Minor matters?
Well how much are they getting then?
Fucking millions man!
Aye but you’ll no lose on it. .
Naw. Rab lifted his own pint glass and sipped at his beer.
What about Rena? what does she think about it all?
Okay — her maw and da arent too keen but; they were wanting us to wait until the summer. Far as Rena’s concerned the sooner the better. Me as well man; I just want to get it over and done with and fuck off to England out the road. I wasnt that bothered before, but now. .!
Tammas nodded.
So will you do it or what?
Aye, course. But I dont know anything about it. I’ve never even fucking been to a wedding before.
Honest?
Naw, Christ, no even as a boy.
Ach — there’s nothing to it; just hand me the ring and make sure I get to the church on time.
Is that all?
Rab nodded: Apart from shagging the bridesmaid!
Tammas laughed.
O. .
What?
Rab sipped at his beer before saying, She maybe invite Betty for it.
Och away man for fuck sake!
Eh. .
Honest?
I’m no sure. She’ll definitely be coming but I know that.
Tammas was shaking his head while taking a cigarette out and lighting it.
What can you do I mean she’s Rena’s mate!
I know, Christ, it’s fair enough. . Tammas exhaled then grinned: Could she no ask that cousin of hers instead?
Wee Julie for fuck sake ya bastard she’s only seventeen!
She’s a woman but!
Rab grinned and shrugged. I’ll see what she says. I know she’s no made up her mind yet anyway.
Tammas nodded. Hey listen man what about your da? have you told him you were going to ask me?
Course.
What did he say?
Who else. He said who else. I told him and he says, Who else! Rab laughed briefly. It’s a love hate relationship yous’ve got.
Aye, he fucking loves to hate me!
Naw, said Rab, reaching for his beer; according to my maw he just worries about you.
Hh!
Seriously.
Aye.
Rab grinned. He gazed round the interior of the lounge and began shaking his head, and he murmured, Years we spent fucking about in Simpson’s man and see when you think about it. . amazing, how the fuck we ever met a woman I mean, Christ, look at the talent man it’s brilliant, fucking brilliant.
Aye, it’s nice.
What about this new yin you’re winching?
Tammas sniffed.
After a moment Rab said, I mean if you want to bring her then. .
To the wedding?
Rab shrugged.
I’m no sure.
Well definitely I mean it’ll be alright.
Tammas nodded.
Okay. . Rab turned abruptly as a waitress walked past: Heh miss! Miss! And when the girl arrived and was standing with her pen and notebook. . Pint of lager and a pint of heavy. Once she had gone he finished the last of the beer he had and he sighed, glancing across at Tammas. While since the two of us’ve been out for a bevy together.
Life is passing.
Rubbish.
Life isnt passing.
Fuck sake Tammas.
Well ya cunt you’re beginning to sound like John!
Still and all but you cant deny times’ve changed. I mean the team we used to run about with! Christ!
There was a lot of us right enough.
Aye, there was a lot of us.
Headcases man, you’re no wanting to run about with a bunch of fucking headcases are you?
Fuck sake Tammas, all I’m saying is there was a lot of us. And now there’s no.
So what?
Fucking so what, so nothing! Rab shook his head and he lifted his empty pint glass. Where’s that fucking waitress?
Tammas had almost a third of beer in his glass and he brandished it. Doesnt pay to rush your drink, he said.
Aye. Rab looked at him. Just as long as you’re pint for pint with me.
Pint for pint with you! Tammas grinned. You should’ve told me in advance man and we could’ve fucking made a bet on it.
Rab smiled.
Anyway ya cunt, you shouldnt be fucking guzzling beer if you’re supposed to be taking the game seriously!
I always take the game seriously, that’s how I’m so fucking good at it! Rab shook his head. He lifted the empty glass again and upturned it, standing it in the middle of the table. He stared across to where the waitresses were leaning at the bar with their trays, watching the band performing on the small raised platform. Then he muttered, No a bad band.
Tammas brought out the cigarettes and lighted one, sipped at his beer. Aye, he said. He was looking at Rab, and he added: You okay man?
Okay?
What’s up?
What’s up? Rab was frowning at him. Fuck all up.
Tammas nodded.
Naw I mean. .
It’s alright.
Naw, I just eh. . Rab sighed. I cant be fucking bothered man.
What d’you mean?
Ah nothing.
Tammas sniffed, inhaled on the cigarette and he exhaled to the floor. The waitress was arriving. She leaned to place the tray on the edge of the table, passed the two pints out. Rab dropped the money onto the tray and told her to keep the change and she nodded in reply.
Tammas was looking at him.
Naw, he said, its just. .
Just what?
Naw, fuck, just — Hull City man! Rab smiled and looked away. I just wish it was some other cunt — that got into the 1st division now and again!
Aw aye. Tammas nodded. A few moments later he glanced at Rab and he asked: Is that all?
Is that all? How what d’you mean?
Tammas shrugged. Is that all?
Rab looked at him, frowned: I dont know what you mean Tammas.
Aw, okay.
Naw, I dont.
Okay.
Naw but what’re you fucking — what d’you mean?
Ah well. . Tammas shrugged. If you were waiting for the Gers or something. .
Waiting for the Gers?
Tammas glanced at him.
Naw, was I fuck.
Tammas grinned. Donnie once told me you might! I told him he was wrong!
I wasnt fucking waiting for the fucking Gers man! Rab shook his head and he raised the pint to his mouth and swallowed a big mouthful of lager. You kidding!
Hh!
What’re you fucking hhing at ya bastard?
You ya cunt I’m fucking hhing at you — waiting for the fucking Gers man! Hh!
What d’you mean?
Tammas smiled, He dragged on his cigarette and blew smoke to the ceiling. Then he said: Honest man — were you waiting for the Gers right enough?
Rab sniffed, then he shrugged.
Tammas nodded.
Naw, no really, I wasnt. It’s just eh — I’ll tell you something for nothing: I never even thought about it till fucking about a week ago. I mean never, no since I was a boy. Honest. Christ I mind when I started playing junior two seasons ago there was this baldy bastard playing alongside me. I think he was about fucking thirty or something. But brilliant, fucking brilliant. I’m no kidding ye man you could never understand how he wasnt senior. He could’ve went anywhere as well — except the Gers, cause they never fucking asked him. Every other cunt in Britain fucking asked him except them. Sad. Peter Wylie. Still playing the now. Fucking star man week in week out.
Hh.
It’s in ye but, that’s all I’m saying. Cause you’re brought up a protestant. I mean these fucking Saturday afternoons man when we all used to go over on the Govan ferry and get lifted over the turnstiles. Christ Tammas no mind that? And the fucking turf, that first time you see it coming down from the top of the terracing! Eh? Christ, what like was it at all!
Rab laughed: his shoulders were waggling as he spoke. .
And the two teams man. All the colours: trotting out with the ball. And the big roar! O ya fucking beauty! And going quiet when the ref blew the whistle and then that fucking cheer once the ball was kicked off. I used to get the shivers man I’m no kidding ye, I used to get the fucking shivers!
Hh! Tammas grinned. So did I. And I can fucking mind even the now what like it was!
So can I! I mean. . Rab was shaking his head, he sighed, then shrugged.
But you wouldnt want to play for them surely?
How no?
Well I mean what they always say about going there and trying to get a game man — it’s alright if you get transferred for big money and that but dont sign as a boy or you’ll wind up in the reserve squad, for the rest of your life!
Rab shrugged. Fair enough, I know that — even the auld man said that to me. It’s just the fucking. . He shrugged again, gazed off in the direction of the platform. The band had stopped playing and were on an interval break.
Tammas gestured at Rab’s pint: Another yin?
Aye, you okay but? for the dough and that?
Tammas nodded. Then he grinned suddenly: Hey listen, guess where I met that lassie!
Rab smiled.
Naw I’m no kidding man. What d’you mean?
Naw, guess where I met her — just where I met her.
Guess where you met her?
Aye.
Rab shrugged.
The fucking track man!
What d’you mean Shawfield!
Naw for fuck sake Ayr, the horses.
Ayr?
Ayr Races, aye.
For fuck sake! Rab laughed loudly. You’re fucking crazy ya cunt!
Tammas laughed.
Around midnight they were in an Indian Restaurant. Rab had been staring at his half stuffed paratha and he noticed Tammas watching him. Naw, he said, it looks a wee bit greasy.
Come on man.
Naw eh. . You can have it.
Tammas glanced at Rab’s plate, the pile of food still lying on it. Aye, he said, you’ve got a lot to swallow right enough! Fucking give us it! He laughed and snatched the paratha half from the plate, dipped it into the curry boat and ate it in a couple of bites.
Naw I know. Rab nodded. He was poking at the rice on his plate with his fork. I just. . d’you ever think about it all man, the parathas and the chapatis and all that, piles and piles of it, all the curry I mean, all of it man. . Rab leaned forwards a little and he closed his eyes, pointing with his thumb to the side, to where three tables were positioned together, accommodating a party of fourteen people. Plates and bowls of all kinds of food were spread throughout and two waiters were handling a portable sort of oven on top of which lumps of chicken meat lay cooking.
Aw shut up for fuck sake, muttered Tammas.
It’s fucking getting to me but.
Cause you’re letting it.
I’m no fucking letting it.
Aye you are. . Tammas sniffed, wiped his mouth with a napkin and he swallowed some water; he lighted a cigarette and sat back on his chair. Best curry I’ve had for years! You having a coffee or what?
Rab reached for the water jug and refilled his own glass. He gulped a mouthful immediately. He wrinkled his nose. He cleared his throat and muttered, Naw but that poor cunt down the stair man; him that does the fucking dishes and the rest of it, having to scrape off all the fucking leftovers man, into a big fucking dustbin.
Aw Jesus Christ Rab. Tammas leaned to whisper: You fucking sound as if you’re trying to make yourself sick.
Naw. Naw, it’s no that. . Rab rubbed his forehead, just above his eyebrows, his eyelids were shut. He opened them and smiled slightly. Sometimes I get the horrors man. I dont even know what they are, just fucking — it’s the horrors man; I dont know, these big bins of grub man — imagine lying at the bottom of it, being fucking smothered, no being. .
Tammas had screeched back his chair on the floor and he coughed loudly, blew his nose on the napkin. He looked at Rab.
Rab was staring at the plateful of food he still had in front of himself, then he was gripping the edge of the table with both his hands, steadying himself a moment, before pushing himself upwards. The bill, he was saying, I need to get the bill. Fresh air man, fucking. . better get it quick, fresh air and that man. . He fumbled some £1 notes from his trouser pocket and he put them on the table. He turned sideways and he peered across at the party of folk at the three tables.
You alright? Tammas frowned.
Naw I’m fucking — all wrong man. The head, spinning like fuck so it is. Hurry up and. . Rab pointed at the money; he walked off at once, his hands at his sides, as though he was wiping his palms on his trousers. Some of the other customers in the restaurant were watching him. A waiter signalled to the man at the cashier’s desk but Tammas called: It’s okay. And he strode over to settle the bill.
Down on the pavement he found Rab supporting himself against the wall of the tenement building. You alright? he said.
Rab grunted in reply and he stuck his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders, pushing himself away from the wall. You’ll no fucking let us down now man. .
What?
You’ll no fucking let us down. Tammas, you’ll no fucking let us down. . Rab stood facing him, shoulders still hunched and his hands still inside his pockets.
Course I’ll no fucking let you down.
I’m talking about best man, letting us down. We’re fucking finshed if you do man, telling ye, that’ll be that. Rab shook his head and he started walking away.
What’re you yapping about? Tammas went after him. And when he caught up to him Rab put his arm out as though to ward him off. Tammas chuckled: What is that you going to start fucking boxing or what!
Rab kept his arm raised. I’ve known you for years man but we’re fucking finished, finished; and I’m no kidding ye.
Hey come on! Nobody’s letting you down.
I know you too fucking well man. Rab had started walking again and he almost bumped straight into a middle aged couple who had to stop and go sideways. Rab seemed not to notice. He was saying, I dont give a fuck about things like Blackpool but this is different, this is fucking different, it’s no a fucking holiday Tammas it’s no a fucking holiday.
Christ sake Rab.
I could get other cunts to do the job but I want you.
Christ Rab. . Tammas was shaking his head. Then he stepped forwards and grabbed him by the hand. I’m just fucking, I mean, just glad you asked me and that Christ it’s an honour, it’s a fucking honour man. I’ll no let you down either Christ I mean I wish you hadnt fucking said that Rab, you shouldnt’ve said that.
Naw Tammas I’ve got all sorts of mates; you know that, the team and the fucking work man I’ve got all sorts — it’s no that but, I mean, Christ.
Tammas nodded. I know. I know Rab. I know that.
Aye well.
I’m just fucking — it’s an honour.
They shook hands.
Honest.
Rab nodded.
Tammas let go his hand. He turned and cleared his throat, spat into the gutter, took out his cigarettes and lighted one, chipping the match out into the street. He glanced at Rab: Dont worry about it.
I’m no. . Rab shrugged. It doesnt matter. As they continued walking he said, You dont have to come to the Stag Night cause there’ll be plenty there anyway — the guys from the team and that; you dont have to bother man.
Naw but I want to come.
Aye but you dont have to, that’s all I’m saying.
I want to but.
Rab nodded. After several moments silence he said, And we’ll have the dress suits to get on the morning as well man that’s another thing.
Aye, no bother.
•••
The meter-bowl contained one 10 pence coin and he replaced it on the mantelpiece, going from there to another bowl on top of the display cabinet; it too was empty. He looked along the window sill and other parts of the room and then he went into the kitchen and searched there, but he found nothing. He returned to the living room and lifted the cup of coffee from the arm of the settee. On the floor, in the ashtray, were the dowps of four cigarettes. He picked one out. He straightened it, smoothing the tip and the fraction of unsmoked tobacco. His matches were on the floor. He struck one, angling his head to avoid the flame of the burning match; and he had it alight in two puffs. Another two puffs and it was finished. He straightened the other three, positioning them along the rim of the ashtray, swallowed down the remainder of the coffee and got up onto his feet, and he walked into the lobby. He stood at the door of Margaret and Robert’s bedroom; he clicked it open, moved his head to peer inside. The curtains were still closed but it was fairly bright, this room obtaining the sun for a good part of each morning. The bed was unmade. When he entered he kept the door open wide. On the dressing table a tidy assortment of articles belonging to Margaret, one a box with a cluttered pile of beads and necklaces; hanging from the top of one of the wardrobe doors a folded shirt and a striped tie, and other clothes over the back of the only chair in the room. Between the chair and the bed were a radio and cassette recorder plus a couple of paperback books and magazines. Tammas continued to stand not far from the door and then he went back out again, closing it behind himself, returning ben the living room. He smoked the largest of the three dowps. About quarter of an hour later he collected his good suit from the bedroom and folded it into a plastic bag.
•••
McCann had laid his dominoes face down on the board and he glanced at Tammas and indicated Auld Roper, tapping the side of his head with his right forefinger.
The elderly man was rising from his seat with the help of his walking stick and he began moving in the direction of the lavatory, looking back and waving the stick as a mock threat.
Tammas started shuffling the pieces but McCann said, Dont bother.
Tammas shrugged, he lifted his cigarette packet, took two and handed one to him; he struck the match. McCann exhaled, saying: You think about what I was saying?
Eh.
I’m no rushing you.
Naw it’s just. . Tammas looked at him. I dont know man. I’m no sure.
Naw. . McCann nodded, he stared towards the television. It’s a thought but.
Aye.
That guy I was telling you about, he says it’s a certainty.
Tammas nodded, raised his pint glass and he swirled about the small drop of beer at the bottom. What about Peterhead? he said. Have you heard anything more?
Naw no really — except they’ll be taking on all sorts. Different contractors involved; it’s a really big fucking job.
I think I’d be interested and that if eh. .
But no the other thing?
Naw, I’m no saying that.
Are you worried about it?
What?
McCann nodded. You dont have to be. Kenny, he’s alright, he knows the game.
Tammas looked at him and then at his pint glass, swirling the liquid about. He dragged on his cigarette, nipped the burning tobacco into the ashtray and wedged the remainder behind his right ear.
Be more than a grand there he says. McCann raised his eyebrows, sipped at his beer, observing Tammas over the rim of the glass.
Tammas shrugged.
Think about it anyhow, added McCann, then he sat back on his chair.
Auld Roper had returned with a glass of sherry which he set on the table at his place while exchanging greetings with two elderly guys sitting nearby.
We no best to get up there quick? asked Tammas.
Maybe.
Auld Roper glanced at them as he sat down: What yous talking about?
Peterhead.
Aw aye. The old man nodded, he sipped at his sherry.
I’m saying to Tammas they’ll be starting to clear the site soon.
Auld Roper frowned at him: Then yous better get up there quick then! Jesus Christ McCann, once they stick these notices into the job centres the cunts’ll be coming from all over the shop! Telling ye son yous better no fucking hang about.
No sweat auld yin, no for a wee while yet.
Roper shook his head and he said to Tammas: Peterhead’s nothing nowadays. Fucking Lapland they’d go to if the money was there.
Tammas smiled.
I’m no fucking kidding ye son.
Well it’s him. . Tammas pointed at McCann: I’m just waiting for him to say the word!
He’ll no say the word, no him.
McCann grimaced.
He’ll no leave Glasgow.
Dont be so fucking daft, I’ve been out of Glasgow dozens of times.
Aye have you! Roper sipped at his sherry again, took out a cigarette and fiddled with his matchbox. After a few moments he glanced at Tammas: What about that mate of yours in New Zealand son you ever hear anything?
Naw.
No even a Christmas card?
Naw, nothing.
He was a good boy that.
Donnie, aye, he was good. . McCann nodded, inhaled on his cigarette and he glanced around the pub interior.
He didnt want to go, said Tammas.
Auld Roper frowned: If he didnt want to go he wouldnt’ve fucking went.
Tammas shrugged.
I mean nobody fucking forced him son.
The rest of his family were all going.
Roper shook his head and added: What’s that got to do with it?
Aw give us peace, muttered McCann. You never fucking stop.
Naw but if he didnt want to go he would’ve stayed, that’s all I’m saying. Deep down he wanted to go, to have an adventure or some fucking thing.
Adventure my arse. It’s just like Tammas says, the boy’s family went and he went with them.
Ach! Auld Roper lifted his sherry and drank a mouthful, sat back on his seat and struck a match, lighted his cigarette and puffed a cloud of smoke over the table. Shuffle the doms, he muttered.
Fuck the doms.
Aye fuck you too.
There was a moment’s silence. It was followed by Tammas swirling the beer about in the bottom of his pint glass and tilting his head backwards to swallow it down in a gulp. I’m off, he said, I’ve got a message to go.
Mind what I was saying! called McCann.
Tammas nodded.
•••
There was a rolled newspaper on the floor nearby the leg of the table. Yesterday’s Daily Record. He settled back on the ledge with it, but the light was too dim now that the snooker had finished. A game was still in progress a couple of tables away but other tables were also empty as the daytime players went home. It was about 5.30 pm. In an hour the hall would again be full. He continued to squint at the racing page, at the racing results of the day before yesterday, trying to see the tote returns. But soon he gave it up. He closed the newspaper, stuck it into the back pocket of his jeans and strolled round to the nearest game. It was terrible. Two absolute beginners by the looks of it. He brought out the Record again but put it away immediately.
At the top of the stairs he remained in the entrance lobby, staring out over the street. The traffic was still busy; a great many pedestrians hurrying along. Rain drizzled but there did not seem to be much of a wind. He zipped up his jerkin and stepped out onto the pavement.
In shop windows the SALE signs were still pasted up although most of the bargains had gone. There was a sports shop. Tammas stopped to look in. Then a hand clapped him on the shoulder. It was Deefy. Heh young yin, he said, how’s it going?
Ah no bad.
Doing alright?
Aye, okay.
That’s the game son.
What about yourself?
Deefy nodded. Then he shrugged: Aye, no bad, got a wee turn this afternoon.
Great.
Aye, a few quid.
Smashing.
I was thinking of going to the dogs. Deefy turned his head, sniffing; he touched the brim of his hat.
The dogs?
Blantyre.
Blantyre?
Deefy nodded. You fancy it like son? I mean tagging along.
Eh. .
It’s no a bad wee gaff. Flapper. Deefy sniffed again and he looked off in the direction of Central Station. Makes a change from Ashfield.
Naw it’s just I’m skint Deefy. Tammas held his hands palms up.
Ah. Deefy nodded. That’s what I’m saying; I got a wee turn this afternoon. You can tag along if you like. Get a bus down Anderson Cross. Fancy it?
Well. . Tammas shrugged and nodded, grinning.
We’ll grab a pint first. Come on. . He led the way into a pub down Hope Street and ordered himself a whisky and a half of heavy, a pint for Tammas. He passed out the cigarettes.
They had to wait quarter of an hour for a bus. When they arrived in Blantyre they headed straight into the first chip shop and Deefy ordered fish suppers, which they ate while walking to the track. And later, just before the betting began on the first race, he gave two £5 notes to Tammas, putting them straight into his hand, tapping the side of his nose with his forefinger.
Tammas said, What’s this?
Deefy shook his head; he held up the evening’s programme, indicating the form figures. No that it’ll do me any fucking good, he said. Last time I was here they gambled a fucking dog from 6’s to evens in the space of about ten fucking seconds and I shoved my tank on the bastard. Stuck up 2nd! You wouldnt fucking believe it son!
I’ll owe you it, replied Tammas.
Another time I’m standing here and there’s this fucking favourite and the vet’s there checking the girths and all that and out comes an announcement: Favourite’s withdrawn, favourite’s withdrawn! And d’you know how? Deefy was shaking his head: Cause the owners couldnt get a fucking punt on the bastard! I’m no kidding ye son; they were there to put their fucking money down but some cunt must’ve blew the whistle and the bookies were no giving more than 3’s on. 3 to 1 on. So what do they fucking do? They turn round and withdraw it! I’m no kidding ye! Warned them off the track right enough — told them no to show their faces ever again.
Hh. Tammas nodded.
Some place! Deefy clapped his hands together, the programme tucked beneath his left elbow, moving his shoulders back and forwards, stamping from foot to foot. Bloody cold, he muttered.
Tammas backed the favourite in the first race and it won. He backed the next two winners also and by the time the betting began on the fourth he had £70. But Deefy had yet to back a winner. Then on the fourth they found they had backed the same runner. Their spectating position was as near plumb to the finishing post as they could manage and they watched the dog win in a photo. My last tenner on it! shouted Deefy. You sure it’s won?
Tammas laughed. Easy. Short head. No danger!
That’s what I thought myself.
When they approached the cluster of bookies they heard one of them calling odds on the outcome of the photograph. There was no dispute about the winner but the bookie was laying 6/4 a short head; 5/2 a neck; 8/1 a half length. Since he was not taking any bets on the winning margin being a head, the bookie was obviously convinced that a head WAS the winning margin. Tammas stared at the price for a moment. Then he cried: Christ sake! and he grabbed the money out of his jeans’ pocket and passed £20 to Deefy shouting: Get it on man! And then rushed up to the bookie: To twenty quid the short head!
The bookie took his money and wiped out the 6/4 immediately. Tammas turned, smiling. Deefy was still standing where he had been previously. Quick! called Tammas.
What?
Quick!
I’m no sure son.
Christ sake!
Deefy was holding the £20 in his hand. There was a rumbling on the loudspeaker and then the winner and placings were announced. The dog had won by a short head. Deefy returned Tammas the £20.
Tammas muttered, Christ sake Deefy.
Deefy shrugged. He sniffed, took the cigarette from his mouth and dropped a mouthful of spit on the ground. He nodded towards the bookie he had placed his bet with and walked to receive his return. Tammas followed him, collecting his winnings from both bookies. When they met up Deefy said: You staying for the next?
How, are you?
Deefy shrugged. Back to Glasgow I think eh?
It’s your decision.
Outside the ground Tammas hailed a taxi. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Tammas had bought a packet of cigarettes and he offered one to Deefy and also passed one through to the driver. And then he added: Look eh. . And he started checking the wad of notes he had. More than £140. He counted £70 and handed it straightaway to Deefy.
Deefy thrust it back to him.
Aw naw Deefy please. Tammas shook his head, holding it to him: You’ve got to take it man honest.
Naw. I dont. Deefy held his hand raised, warding off the bundle of notes.
Please.
It’s your fucking money son no mine.
I was out the game but, till you showed up I mean. . fuck sake Deefy. Half the dough, come on, that’s fair.
Deefy sniffed.
Christ sake I mean I’ve never even been to their fucking track man and I’ve backed four out of four. Plus the photo! Tammas shook his head and he grinned.
Deefy hesitated. Okay then. Halfers. . He put his hand into his own pocket and brought out £28, gave Tammas £14 and accepted the £70 in exchange.
Let us know when you’re going back!
Hh. Deefy frowned. I’ll no be going fucking back. Fucking pitch!
How what’s up?
Naw son I mean I’m no getting at you or fuck all but tell me this: how can a man lay 6/4 when it’s a short head?
Tammas looked at him.
He cant be a bookie son, no a real yin. I mean there isnt any bookie in the whole fucking world would lay that kind of bet.
Ach away man that’s daft. Anyhow, it’s a flapping gaff.
A flapping gaff! I know it’s a flapping gaff. So what but? They’re supposed to be wideys these cunts. That makes it even fucking worse so it does.
Tammas shrugged.
Naw I mean. . Deefy sniffed and he turned slightly, to gaze out the window. I wouldnt go back there again. No me.
Och!
Deefy shook his head. As they approached the city centre he leaned forwards to ask the driver the time.
You going up the club? asked Tammas.
Naw son I dont think I’ll bother. There’ll be nothing doing there anyway.
The Royal?
The Royal? Are you?
Tammas indicated the clothes he had on. I’d have to go home and get changed first.
Ah, I wouldnt bother. . Deffy sniffed and folded his arms. A moment later he leaned forwards again. Heh driver, he said, go up St Vincent Street will you.
On the brow of the hill he told the man to pull into the kerb, and added, Two minutes I’ll be.
When he got out he did not say anything to Tammas, nor did he look in his direction. He walked off across the street, tugging at the brim of his hat, and on up one of the side streets towards Blythswood Square. He reappeared holding a woman by the elbow. He opened the door of the taxi for her. Tammas moved to make room, noticing the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. The woman sat down next to him. Deefy pulled open the folding seat and he sat there staring out the window.
They arrived outside Tammas’s close first and he got out, taking the wad from his pocket, preparing to pay something but Deefy waved him away. Once the taxi had moved off again he could see Deefy shifting from the folding seat into the back seat to sit beside the woman. He continued looking after the taxi until it was out of sight, then he crossed the street and walked along to Simpson’s.
•••
Margaret had called him ten minutes ago. He was lying on his side in bed, with the blankets to his chin. When the sound of cutlery and crockery had become less audible he threw back the blankets and got out; he was wearing his ordinary clothes. At the window he pulled open the curtains, he yawned and shivered, went into the bathroom to urinate and wash himself before going ben the kitchen. Margaret and Robert were still eating at the table.
His food was being kept warm beneath the grill. He sat down at the table where his place had been set and began to mash the potatoes into the mince and gravy. Robert was now about finished eating, wiping his plate clean with a slice of margarined bread: he left the kitchen without speaking. Then Margaret had finished, as she rose to carry her plate to the sink she glanced at Tammas. Since sitting down he had barely touched his food. And he said, I’m no that hungry Margaret.
She nodded. She began to stack the dirty pots and crockery on the draining board. Tammas turned and said, I’ll wash.
It’s alright.
Naw. He smiled: I’m washing.
She shrugged. She dried her hands on the small towel.
Did you see Grannie then?
Yes.
How was she?
Alright, the usual. . Margaret lifted the kettle as it began boiling and she poured the water into the teapot.
Did you talk to any of the women?
No. Margaret lifted the towel and dried her hands once again. She brought teacups out of the cupboard and laid them on the table.
I’ll bring it ben, said Tammas.
Mm. .
When she had closed the door behind her Tammas scraped the rest of his meal into the bin, dropped the plate into the washing bowl in the sink. He washed then dried all the dishes, pots and crockery, took the two cups of tea into the living room. He carried his own through to his bedroom. He put it on the cupboard beside his bed then propped the pillow and rearranged the quilt, put some books next to the teacup. He read for a time, later he dozed and had a fit of shivering when he awakened.
Robert and Margaret were watching television when he entered. Anybody fancy a coffee? he asked.
After a moment Margaret replied, We’ve just had tea.
Fine. He made himself one and returned to the front room, sitting down on the settee. There was a news programme showing. He watched it for a few minutes. Then he said, O by the way, that guy McCann I told you about, him that drinks in Simpson’s, he was saying the Peterhead job’s going to be starting quite soon. A couple of months at the most.
O. Margaret nodded.
He thinks there’ll be no problem, getting a start and that. He’s an electrician and he says he’ll get me labouring to him. Big wages. Bonus it is they’re on.
That’s nice, said Robert.
Tammas paused. He looked at the floor to where his cigarette packet and matches were lying. Aye, he said, eh, the. . He rubbed his eyelids before continuing. A place near the site, where you sleep and that.
A hostel.
Naw, it’s no a hostel I dont think I think it’s a eh. .
A hotel? Five star probably. . Robert had turned his head to look at Tammas while speaking to him.
Tammas sniffed. He collected his cigarettes and matches, lifted the coffee from the arm of the settee. He walked to the door. Margaret was staring at the television screen while Robert had opened the pages of a paperback. Just as he clicked open the door Margaret shifted round on the settee. She said: I thought Billy’s dad was going to speak for you in the copper place, the factory?
Aye, he’s getting me the application form.
Well then. .
Tammas shrugged.
D’you no want a job there?
Eh, no really.
O.
Robert’s head was bent over the book he was reading.
I just think I’d prefer something in the open air.
Margaret nodded. She shifted back round on the settee again, facing the television screen. After a few moments Tammas opened the door and stepped out into the lobby.
During the night he kept wakening, his body sweating; the bed seemed to be confining him far too much. It was far too narrow a bed and there always seemed to be too many quilts and blankets stifling him. His forehead felt damp and cool. He was shivering again. There was a dream he had been having. More of a nightmare maybe. He turned onto his side, tugging the bedclothes to his chin, and then over his head; but eventually he got up and searched about in the cupboard drawers, till he found his pyjamas. Throughout the night he kept dozing, and in the morning he wrote a short note to Vi which he posted in the pillarbox along at the street corner. He returned upstairs and went back to bed.
•••
He was off the platform and running before the bus had stopped and he was still running when he arrived inside her close; he walked up the stairs two and three at a time and he chapped her door then flapped the letterbox. And when he heard the kitchen door open he bent to shout through the gap: It’s me.
Tammas! She laughed, unlocking the main door.
Inside the lobby he clasped his arms round her; her head on his shoulder. Is it okay to come in? he said.
She slapped his chest and he picked her up off the floor, she was laughing, carrying her into the kitchen. Put me down ya idiot! Then she whispered, Tammas, you’ll frighten her.
He let her down, kissed her on the mouth. He winked across to Kirsty who was sitting on the floor near the fire surround.
Are you hungry? There’s still some mince in the pot.
Tammas grinned.
D’you want some?
Naw, I’m full up.
You’re the man that’s always starving! Come on!
Honest Vi.
Honest Vi! She smiled, shook her head at him.
I’d take a coffee right enough.
O would you!
Tammas was smiling at her. It’s really great to see you Vi. All the way here I was thinking she’ll no be here she’ll no be here! And then — Christ!
Sit down.
He laughed, stepped round to sit on the edge of the settee, glancing back at her, then at Kirsty, winking at her again.
Take off your jacket. . As she spoke Vi had crossed to the sink and she filled the kettle, prepared two cups of coffee.
It’s a jerkin, he said while unzipping it; he took the cigarettes and matches from the pocket.
How’s your cold now?
Okay. Actually it was the flu I think.
O, pardon me!
He grinned. Kirsty was watching him. She rose from the floor, facing down the way and pushing herself up with both hands. She toddled to the cot and stood there, holding onto the bars. When she glanced at him he winked again. Hullo Kirsty! She turned away. And he opened his cigarettes. He said to Vi: You still no smoking?
I’m still no smoking.
That’s good.
Bloody awful! Vi was leaning with the small of her back against the sink, her arms folded; she was smiling. She turned and lifted the kettle, set it back down again.
Tammas inhaled on the cigarette, flicked the flame out of the match, dropping it onto the ashtray. He said: It’s really great to see you.
She smiled. You’ve said that already.
Naw but. .
Hey! Tammas! Vi clapped her hands and came forwards, bent to lean her elbows on the top frame of the settee, grinning at him, her face less than 12 inches from his: he moved to kiss her. Will you take me to the pictures?
What?
Eh? D’you no fancy it? She kissed the tip of his nose.
The pictures?
Please, eh? Come on. . She was gazing right into his eyes, very close to him, now smiling. Eh?
The pictures?
She laughed and stood up. The bloody pictures! And she was returning to the draining board and the two cups, reaching for the bottle of milk. I’ve no been for ages. Honest Tammas, I cant remember the last time. I’ve even stopped reading the entertainments’ page in the papers. I used to ask Milly if she would go but she was never interested. Vi paused to look across. D’you no fancy it?
What about Kirsty?
Aw Cathy’ll babysit, no bother. I mean it’s no as if we’ll be late back either — I’ll go and tell her eh?
He shrugged slightly. Vi was already walking to the kitchen door. He smiled at Kirsty who had been watching him but she cried out and rushed to the door after Vi.
Soon Cathy’s door was opening and shutting. Tammas got up, he walked to get one of the coffees. He peered out the window, down into the backcourt. When he heard Cathy’s door open he returned to the settee immediately.
Vi had Kirsty in her arms and she put her onto the floor, saying: Get your dolls now Kirsty. . And she added: Tammas, you’ve no even looked at the paper.
The paper?
The paper! Vi marched to beside the television where a copy of the Evening Times was lying, and she gave it to him: You look while I’m getting her ready.
He nodded.
God you’re no very enthusiastic.
Enthusiastic?
Aye I mean. . tch. She shook her head, opening it at the entertainments’ page, handing it over to him. She went to the cupboard and tugged out a drawer, collected a packet of paper nappies. Then she smiled and muttered, You dont really want to go do you!
What?
D’you just no fancy it?
The pictures?
Vi glanced at Kirsty who was kneeling at the foot of the bed where a toy pram lay. She turned back to Tammas. We dont have to go.
After a moment he said, It’s just I’m skint Vi.
Aw God.
I only had the busfare and the ten fags. Had to tap the sister for it.
Tch, Tammas. Vi marched to him and put her arms round him and they kissed. She clung into him. He moved a little away from her, but she pulled back into him; they were still kissing. We’ll be early home, she whispered.
•••
It was no longer pitchblack when he wakened. Vi’s arm lay over his shoulder, and he lifted it, laid it on the pillow. He manoeuvered himself to the edge of the bed, sliding out from the blankets carefully. The alarm clock was on the mantelpiece. Vi kept it there so she would always have to get out of bed to switch off the alarm. Ten minutes to 6 am. Another hour and she would be rising for work.
He went to the lavatory. On his return he halted by the cot. Kirsty was lying on her back with the bedclothes near her waist. Tammas stared at her for several moments, and then he raised her vest and peered down at the scratches on her belly. They were more like scars. There were four of them and they were as though parallel, just beneath her navel. He lifted the vest down to cover them. Her arms were bent at the elbows, the forearms lying vertically. When he raised the bedclothes past her shoulders she made a sighing noise and she turned onto her side, looking towards the wall.
Back in bed he lay for quite a while with his hands behind his head on the pillow. Vi’s arm came onto his chest. Eventually he began stroking it. He turned a little so that he could touch her breasts and he stroked them around the nipples until she was awake, and he slipped his arm beneath her shoulders: Fancy taking the day off?
She chuckled. What time’s it?
Only about 6.
6?
Aye. He turned onto his side, facing into her, the warmth of her, pulling her in to him.
•••
The photographer motioned them in closer together then waved them to the side a bit and back a step. Taking the camera away from his face he straightened up, shaking his head. Naw, he said, it’s no good; yous’ll have to get closer than that.
There was a burst of laughter from the little crowd gathered some twenty yards off by the church wall. Tammas put his arm round the best maid’s shoulders and somebody shouted: No flies on him anyway!
And then came a cheer when Rab drew Rena closer into him, his arm round her waist as she clutched the small bouquet. The photographer was waving his hand about and saying, Fine, that’s fine; now hold it there, fine. And another — fine now fine, and just. . fine, and another. Fine.
Rab edged sideways as if set to say something to Tammas but the man stopped him by raising his hand and signalling. . Just you and the lassie now son — just you and the missus — a nice yin. One for the grandweans!
Another roar then more laughter from the spectators. Rab blushed and he glared at the man. Shoosh, whispered Rena.
I never said anything. . He was shaking his head, he glanced at Tammas.
Tammas shrugged. He and Julie retreated to the edge of the crowd, standing next to the two wee girls who had been bridesmaids.
The reception was being held in the home of Rena’s parents. It was a first storey flat in a red sandstone tenement they lived in, less than two miles from where Rab’s own parents stayed. Once the guests had assembled an uncle of Rena asked for quiet. And he nodded to Tammas.
Well everybody. . Tammas cleared his throat.
Another man called: A bit of order now for the best man.
Tammas waited until the talking stopped. Well. . He cleared his throat again. I’d like to toast the bride. She’s the best looking bride I’ve ever seen. He turned to her and said, Honest Rena, I really mean that. All the best to the two of yous.
He raised the tumbler of sherry he had been given aloft. There was silence, the faces in the room all gazing at him. It was crowded. The door open widely and people standing visible out in the lobby. Here’s to Rena! he cried, and he swallowed the sherry in a gulp.
Somebody called: To Rena!
Then others were saying her name and the toasts being made. Rena’s mother was looking at him. He stepped to the side, leaning to whisper to Rab, I’m needing a slash man be back in a minute.
He kept his head bowed while making his way through the folk in the room. Betty was by the doorway, standing just to the side of an old lady who stared at him. Hullo Betty, he said.
O Tammas. .
Nice wedding.
It was really beautiful.
Aye. He nodded, took out his cigarettes. The old lady was still staring at him. He smiled at her and turned slightly, scratching at his ear.
You didnt say very much for the speech.
I know. Hh. Have you seen Billy at all?
Billy. I’m no really sure if I know him Tammas.
O aye. Tammas returned the cigarettes to his pocket; he fingered the lapels of the dress jacket. Have to change out of this stuff. I better eh. . this blooming bowtie!
I think it looks nice.
The bowtie? Tammas frowned at her. It feels like a windmill or something. And the trousers they gave me; could hardly get my legs into them they were that tight!
But it’ll be nice for the photographs.
Aye, I suppose so. Listen Betty I’ll see you later on and then — maybe have a dance if it’s okay. He frowned. I’m supposed to look after the best maid.
Betty nodded. Wee Julie, she looks awful thin in the dress. It’s nice right enough but she was really shivering for the photographs.
Aye. . Tammas took out his cigarette again. After a moment he touched her on the side of the arm and said, I’ll see you later Betty.
A large walk-in press was being used as a cloakroom. There was no snib on the door and he had to grip the handle while changing trousers. When he had his own suit on and the dress one on the hanger, he pushed open the door and peered out. A group of kids was clustered by the bathroom door; also a young woman with a baby in her arms. She glanced at him as he passed along, and he nodded to her, before opening the front door and stepping out.
There was a pub about two hundred yards down the street and he sat in the bar for more than forty minutes, sipping at a pint of heavy, watching television.
The guests were queuing for food when he arrived back, a line of them filing along the lobby and in through the kitchen doorway, passing the tables where all the bowls and plates of things were heaped. Folk were either serving themselves or being given selections by two middle aged women. John was near the head of the queue and he waved to Tammas. Tammas returned the wave but continued along the lobby. In the front room different groups had formed, people chatting together while eating or drinking. Over near the bow windows Rab and Rena had been surrounded, mainly by younger folk, including both Betty and Julie. Behind them Tammas could see Billy listening to something Mrs McCorquodale was saying.
And Uncle Gus was gesticulating at him from the side of the room and calling, Hey. . psst — Tammas.
He was standing next to a display cabinet. A bottle of sherry and a half bottle of whisky plus a few empty tumblers were on top of it, also a big plate in use as an ashtray. Uncle Gus was pointing at the sherry: Hope you can drink this cause the whisky’s done and I dont see much else.
There’s a boozer down the street, said Tammas. Nick out for a pint; that’s what I’ve just done. They’ve got an off-sales as well.
An off sales. . mm, aye. Uncle Gus nodded. Seems a bit out of order but: bringing a carry out to a wedding! Still, a bottle of bloody sherry’ll no go very far.
Biblethumpers, muttered Mr McCorquodale, appearing suddenly. What else d’you expect?
Hey Boab, he’s saying there’s a boozer just down the street a bit.
Good. Mr McCorquodale glanced at Tammas: Son, d’you know what a biblethumper is?
Sssshh Boab. .
And by the bye, you should have been getting things organised, no skipping out for pints. Mr McCorquodale poured himself a sherry then topped up Uncle Gus’s tumbler.
Tammas nodded.
And did you just forget it or what? the speech. . Mr McCorquodale was returning the bottle to the display cabinet.
I didnt really have it worked out properly.
Ah well you should have shouldnt you.
Leave the boy alone, said Uncle Gus, I’ve done the same myself.
Have you? When was that?
Och! Uncle Gus shook his head, pursed his lips and drank some sherry. Plenty of times.
Plenty of times?
Och aye, Christ.
Hh! Mind you. . Mr McCorquodale smiled, It probably saved us getting a bloody sermon, if the speeches had all carried on.
Tammas glanced at him: Did they no?
Naw. Ended up everybody thought they were just to start eating! Mr McCorquodale shook his head.
It’s no your fault, said Uncle Gus.
Whose fault is it then? Mr McCorquodale asked.
No his anyway, one of them could’ve said something.
Aw aye, I see.
Well they bloody could’ve. Uncle Gus frowned and swallowed his sherry in a gulp.
Cheers to you too, said Mr McCorquodale and did likewise then reached for the bottle again. It’s hell of a sweet this stuff isnt it? Effing syrup it tastes like!
Ssh.
Sssh yourself. Mr McCorquodale topped up his tumbler and then he glanced at Tammas and offered him one.
Naw no thanks.
Wise man.
Tammas smiled; he brought out his cigarettes, but paused: along at the group where Rab and Rena were, Julie was standing to the side and looking down towards him. She raised her left hand and touched herself at the back of the neck, seeming to smile at something one of the group was saying. Then she looked back along at Tammas again.
He’s no listening to you, said Mr McCorquodale, he’s watching that wee lassie.
I dont blame him.
Ah well it’s better than watching you right enough I’ll give him that.
Tammas sniffed, he cleared his throat and opened the cigarette packet.
I’m saying is there any jobs on the horizon son. .? Uncle Gus smiled.
Eh naw, no really, I’m thinking of maybe going away.
Going away?
I’m no sure.
What’re you fed up?
Aye, a bit.
Mr McCorquodale was nodding. If you ask me you were a wee bit previous jumping on the broo when you did.
Probably.
Probably!
Aw Boab give the boy a break!
Mr McCorquodale pursed his lips and winked at Tammas: I’ve to give you a break!
Tammas smiled.
Well you’re picking on him.
I’m no picking on him.
You are.
Tch, Christ. Mr McCorquodale shook his head. Am I picking on you Tammas?
Tammas smiled. Actually, he said, I better go. . He turned from them and stepped towards the doorway.
Julie was coming in the same direction. He paused to strike a match, lighted a cigarette, and followed the girl out into the lobby. She led him into the doorway of the end bedroom. Thank God, he said, getting me away from Rab’s auld man!
Julie nodded.
Naw, I’m no kidding ye!
It’s cause Rab told me to. Did you no notice the time? I was trying to tell you when we were in there — it’s half six.
O Christ that’s right, the taxi.
You’ve to get it as soon as you can. As soon as the coast’s clear they want to skip away.
As soon as the coast’s clear?
Aye.
What d’you mean?
Pardon?
What coast you talking about?
Julie breathed in deeply and frowned, and Tammas grinned. She turned her head from him. . You were supposed to toast me you know. I waited all week for it.
I’m sorry.
Mrs McCorquodale says she’s going to give you a doing.
Hh.
She is. . Julie continued to look away from him. She was holding a slice of currant cake in her hand and she broke a piece of it off and put it in her mouth.
Tammas nodded.
But it was nice what you said about Rena.
I should’ve said it to you as well.
Tch, I wasnt meaning that.
Naw but. . he shrugged. I’m sorry.
It doesnt matter. I wasnt meaning that.
Aye but that’s some dress you’re wearing; it’ll look really great in the photographs.
Tch. . Julie shook her head, still looking away from him.
Honest, I’m no kidding ye.
Tch. She shook her head again and began walking off.
Naw, he said and he whispered after her: I mean it Julie.
He waited until she had returned into the main room then walked down the lobby.
There was a telephone in the house but it was situated across from the bathroom and a crowd of kids and some adults were standing about. He continued on and out, shutting the front door behind himself, and he checked his cash while crossing the street to the pub. He had enough for one more pint and after he had made the phone call he stood by the exit, drinking it, peering out the door every so often. When the taxi arrived he raced over and told the man to wait a minute.
Rab’s young brother, Alec, was waiting for him back in the house and he led him straight into a bedroom where Rena sat on the bed. With her were Betty and a couple of other girls. She now had on her ordinary clothes and the white wedding outfit was on a hangar, hanging from the top of a wardrobe door. Thank goodness, she said and laughed briefly. Is everything okay?
Aye, great, the taxi’s down there.
Rena was onto her feet and bending to drag out a suitcase from below the bed. Moments later the door opened and in came Rab and he was in his ordinary clothes now as well; and behind him Billy and John, both grinning and holding plates of salad. Then Julie appeared, still dressed in the best maid’s outfit.
Rab said, Naw, naw, it’ll no do, there’s too many of you; they’ll twig something’s up ben the room. Come on now. . He glanced at Billy. Eh man?
Billy grinned and backed off. John edged out in front of him, also grinning. Rab was glancing at Betty and the other two girls: Eh? D’you mind?
And when they had gone he said to his young brother: You as well.
Aw Rab.
Naw, come on!
Let him stay, said Rena.
Naw.
Yes.
He’ll be seeing us next week when he comes down to England.
Rab! Rena smiled and she shook her head.
Okay okay but it means the likes of my auld man’ll know because we’re all missing at the same time.
It doesnt.
Okay, okay.
Alec said, He’s bloody terrible so he is Rena, he’s always like this.
Shut up, muttered Rab, we’ve got no time for any carry on — eh Tammas?
Tammas nodded; he stepped to the door and clicked it open, peered outside.
It was arranged that Alec went first and stood guard by the front door. Next out was Rab, followed by Julie, and Rena, and Tammas was coming last, with both the suitcases. And he waited until the front door had closed behind Rena before leaving the bedroom. But Mrs McCorquodale appeared from the kitchen. Her face was red and she whispered, Tammas.
Eh. .
It’s alright son I know what’s going on. She stuffed money into the top pocket of his jacket. . Just take it now cause you’re doing fine you’re doing fine.
Mrs McCorquodale. . he began.
Naw son you’re doing fine, away you go, come on. She waved her fist at Alex who was laughing at them from the landing outside, holding the door ajar.
Tammas nodded, he strode down the lobby and out, kicking the door shut behind himself.
Down on the street the driver was standing by the passenger entrance of the taxi, a cigarette poking from the corner of his mouth and he came forwards to grab the two suitcases, and slide them in next to Rab and Rena’s feet. Alec and Julie were shaking hands and exchanging kisses with the two of them and the driver was now slamming shut his door and starting the engine and glancing over his shoulder. Tammas moved to the window and shook hands with Rab and kissed Rena. Good luck to yous, he said.
Rena laughed.
It was a great wedding, he said.
Worst fucking speech I’ve ever heard! cried Rab.
From behind Alec shouted: I’m telling mammy you swore!
Punch him on the mouth for me Tammas!
Okay.
And thanks, cried Rena, reaching her hand out to him.
Tammas laughed.
O God! cried Julie.
And the taxi was moving off from the kerb. And loud cheering coming from the upstairs windows of the building. John’s head could be seen and also Rena’s mother staring down. And then a clattering of feet and folk emerging from the close and chasing after the taxi, a couple of them tossing confetti. The taxi slowed to do a u-turn and the cheering was loud once more as it trundled past them all, with Rab and Rena’s faces at the window, laughing at everybody. Some of the guests started trotting behind it, waving and shouting Good luck and All the best. Tammas went with them and then Julie was beside him and they laughed at each other, and he paused to encircle her waist with his right arm, and squeezed her, half lifting her from the ground. Ahh! The breath came from her in a gasp and he let her go. She continued waving but was breathing quite harshly, now holding her waist with her hand. Christ, he said, sorry Julie. . He shook his head, gazing after the taxi; it was nearing the end of the street, turning, out of sight. Sorry, he said.
You just caught a muscle I think. . She peered down at her waist, rubbing it.
I’m really sorry.
The other guests and relatives were returning into the close now and he waited a moment before sticking his hands into his trouser pockets and strolling after her. There were still faces to be seen at the upstairs window, and also at other windows in the tenement building. He walked to stand near Billy and Alec. Julie was speaking to a girl who looked as though she was not one of the actual wedding guests, and there were others — mainly elderly women — who were standing looking on. A boy said to Tammas: Hey mister was there a scramble?
Tammas did not reply. Billy was saying, You going up the stair?
Aye in a minute. . He nodded in the direction of Julie.
O aye. . Billy sniffed. I’m wanting to see you but man, it’s about the factory and that.
Tammas nodded. I’ll be up in a minute.
My da’s getting the forms, if you’re still interested.
Aye. Christ.
I’ll see you when you come up then. . Billy turned and walked after Alec who had already gone into the close.
Eventually Julie came, accompanied by some wee kids who were staring at her dress.
Tammas asked, You going up the stair?
Going up the stair. .?
He shrugged.
Are you no?
Julie frowned.
Eh. .
They’ll be starting the records for dancing.
He nodded, offered her a cigarette.
I dont smoke.
O aye, sorry. He sniffed and went on: Listen Julie I’m sorry and that I mean lifting you like that, hurting you, it was really stupid — I didnt mean it I mean Christ, if I hurt you. He shook his head.
Dont be daft, you just caught a muscle.
Naw but. .
It’s alright. She smiled. They’ll be expecting us up the stair.
Aye. . He took out his matches, struck one and waited a moment before taking a light; he blew out smoke.
Julie moved slightly in the direction of the close. The kids were still there and a couple were standing in front of her. She scowled at them: Away yous go and stop being so nosey!
But they continued to stand there, giggling, until Tammas suddenly leapt at them making them jump and they shrieked laughter and rushed along to the next close.
Julie was staring in the opposite direction. I was looking forward to the dancing. . I was, I was looking forward to it.
Were you?
Yes. She made a shivering sound.
Fair enough. . They stared at each other for a brief period, both looking away at the same time.
Betty thingwi’s got a face down to the floor.
What d’you say?
Julie was gazing back down the street as she replied, She’s got a face down to the floor.
What d’you mean?
You know fine well.
He shrugged, smiled very slightly. The silence continued for perhaps as much as half a minute. Then he added, I’m not going with her you know.
Mmhh.
I’m no. . He puffed on the cigarette.
She nodded, she was biting on the corner of her lower lip; now she crossed her elbows over her breasts, her hands gripped the sides of her arms, just below the shoulders. She shivered. She said, I think we should go up the stair. Eh, you coming up? It’s really freezing.
He nodded but made no other movement.
Eh Tammas?
What about a pint first? he jerked his thumb in the pub’s direction. No a bad lounge. Fancy going over for a minute?
Tch! I’m no going into a pub like this!
You look fine. Honest I mean. .
Julie paused before saying, You dont go into pubs dressed like this but.
It’s a lounge.
Doesnt matter.
It’s quiet; it’s really quiet.
Julie stared down the street without replying.
Could you no go up and get a coat?
She glanced at the close mouth.
Eh Julie?
I dont know.
Just for a pint, come on, I’ll wait for you.
She turned and said: What did you forget your speech for?
I dont know, I just — I forgot.
Julie shook her head.
Honest.
Tch.
Tammas sighed. He smiled. Come on, come on we’ll go.
I’ll need to change first.
I’ll wait for you here.
She nodded quickly and walked into the close, and kept walking along, to the foot of the staircase, where she glanced back over her shoulder. Tammas pointed to where he was standing inside the entrance and whispered loudly: I’ll just be here.
About ten minutes later the door on the first storey opened and footsteps down, but it was Alec who appeared. He stolled out with his hands in his trouser pockets. She told me to tell you no to wait Tammas. She says you’ve to come up the stair, she’ll see you in the house.
Tammas nodded.
You coming?
Eh I’ll be up in a minute. I’ve got a splitting head. Hey, fancy a pint?
Alec frowned. Whereabouts?
Across the road.
Aw naw man they’re too strict in there they’ll no serve me.
You sure?
Aye, fucking, they’re really strict man.
Aw.
A moment later Alec shrugged. Anyway, they’re about to stick the records on. All the Scottish stuff first but they’ll be dancing after that.
Tammas nodded.
It’ll be a good laugh.
Aye. I’ll just have a quick pint.
You’ll come up but?
Aye, course.
Okay. Billy was wondering where you were as well.
I’ll just be a minute tell him.
Okay.
Tammas turned immediately, left the close, crossing in the direction of the pub, but he carried on walking beyond it. A taxi had pulled to a stop at the traffic lights; he rushed up to it and climbed in. The driver was waiting for him to speak. Sorry, he said, Shawfield, Shawfield jimmy.
•••
There had been a slight flurry of snow when they boarded the bus and now, as they alighted, it was coming down quite thickly and beginning to lie. He stepped from the platform first, turning to give Vi his hand; she was holding the wee girl. Along the pavement they walked carefully, the stonework slippery in places. At the close before the corner of her street Vi paused, sheltering while opening her handbag, taking a £5 note from the purse inside. Get us a couple of fish suppers from the chip shop, she said, it’ll save me having to cook.
Sure?
Vi grinned: I’ll race you as well. I bet you ten pence I’ve got Kirsty down before you get back!
Ha ha!
I bet you! she cried, and was already out the close and walking in a hurry.
Watch you dont fall!
But Vi continued on without glancing back the way and Tammas laughed and started running over the road towards the chip shop.
By the time he arrived up the stairs Kirsty was in her pyjamas and sitting up in the cot with a picture book on her lap, eating a digestive biscuit. Vi had set out two mugs and was pouring the tea. Her back was to him but she could be heard chuckling. On top of the table were the salt, the vinegar and the tomato sauce, a teaplate of margarined bread.
That bloody queue, he said.
Ha ha.
Naw but no kidding it was right out onto the pavement.
Tch! He cant even admit he’s lost!
Naw but no kidding! Tammas stepped quietly to her and kissed her on the side of the face. He placed the parcel of food on the table, and the change from the £5 on the mantelpiece.
I hope my ten pence is there as well you!
Tell you what, a double or clear.
A double or clear?
Aye, plus the dishes. Whoever eats their grub first wins.
You kidding! A gannet like you! Think I’m daft?
Naw but a fair bet.
A fair bet! some hopes!
He laughed then he rubbed his hands briskly. Christ Vi I’m starving!
You’re always starving — it was the same in the pictures that time; after refusing my mince I had to sit all night listening to your stomach rumble! All through the bloody film as well!
Rubbish, that was yours!
O uh. . She turned to Kirsty: Hear this big liar hen? Wont his nose start to grow!
Tammas was unscrewing the sauce bottle and pouring some onto the edge of his plate, sprinkling the salt then the vinegar. And I’ll tell you something, he said, see when you went to the ladies; I told that auld woman sitting in front that it was you to blame.
Tch.
I did, honest.
Rubbish!
He had taken a mug of tea across to her, laying his own on the tiled fireplace; returned with his fish and chips and the margarined bread. And when he sat down he shook his head and sighed. This is great.
Dont be daft.
Naw, I mean it, honest.
Shut up.
He sniffed. He forked a chip into the sauce. Kirsty was looking at him and he winked at her. She said, Biscuit!
I’ll give her one? he asked.
Vi nodded. He rose, laying his plate near to his tea. The packet of biscuits was in the cupboard. When he held one out to her the girl shook her head slowly, staring at him. He smiled. Okay Kirsty? And set it on the quilt beside her. She looked away from him, her attention reverting to the book.
Vi had been watching. While he collected his plate and sat down she said, Sometimes she can be funny.
He nodded.
But if she is dont take it personally.
Naw.
Okay?
Aye. He smiled at her; he was cutting a piece of the fried haddock, forking it into his mouth. He reached for the mug, sipped at the tea. Vi was also sipping tea and their gazes met.
So the wedding turned out okay after all?
Aye it was fine. Tammas shrugged. Everything just seemed to pass in front of my eyes. One minute I was getting the ring off Rab in the morning; next thing him and Rena were in the taxi and we were waving cheerio. It was a strange feeling.
Even stranger for them. .
Aye, hh — and Rab but he had everything happening at once, rushing back up from Hull on the Friday afternoon and then having to leave first thing on the Sunday morning; plus it’s his birthday next week, he’s twenty.
Vi frowned.
Tammas had sniffed and he looked at the plate, dug the fork into a large chip, dipped it into the sauce.
Vi now smiled. She shook her head and laid her knife and fork on the plate. Aye, she said, I knew it. And yous grew up the gether didnt you?
What?
You and your pal Rab, you’re the same age. Ho, God, I knew it. Milly and Joe were wrong and I was right. So what is he older than you or what?
What?
Your pal Rab, is he older than you?
What d’you mean?
What’re you blushing for Tammas?
What?
Your face — it’s bloody scarlet so it is!
He made no reply. He was balancing the plate on his knees, holding the knife and the fork in either hand. Eventually he gazed at her. Well what would you’ve done if I’d told you the truth? Hh, you wouldnt’ve bloody looked at me.
Vi sighed, shaking her head. You really have got a cheek but I’m no kidding you. She stared at him: Are you only nineteen?
Naw, twenty.
Twenty. So you’re older than him are you?
About six months.
Is that the truth?
Christ sake Vi.
Well sometimes you dont know with you.
He sniffed and stared away, soon he dropped his gaze to the fireplace. There was a chip on the end of his fork; he ate it, glancing sideways. Kirsty still seemed to be engrossed in the picture book. And Vi had resumed eating. Listen, he muttered, you’re only two years older than me.
Am I?
Aye.
How do you know?
I just know.
Who told you?
He shrugged.
Who told you?
Vi, there’s no point worrying about ages.
No point worrying about ages? what you talking about?
There’s just no point worrying about it.
Who’s worrying about it?
You are, Christ, the way you’re going on. I knew it was you when Joe asked me right away back when we were up the Royal, I knew it, I twigged right away. Tammas shook his head and he lifted the plate from his knees and laid it on the fireplace. He reached for his cigarettes from the mantelpiece.
Vi was watching him. You’ve no finished eating yet.
I know.
Tammas, dont act like a wean.
I’m no acting like a wean. It’s no me that’s bloody — Christ! He shook his head and stuck the cigarette in his mouth and fumbled open the matchbox. It’s no me, he said.
Tammas, you’ve hardly touched your food.
Sorry.
It’s a waste of money but so it is.
He nodded. I’ll pay you for it next time I’m over.
O. Vi sniffed and she stood up, gripping her plate and cutlery. She stepped round in the direction of the sink. Tammas sat smoking and staring at the electric bars glow. And when is the next time you’ll be over?
Pardon?
Quite plain.
He swivelled and made as though to stand to his feet but she waved him back down and he continued to sit as he was. Quite plain, she said: When is the next time you’ll be over?
The next time?
O God the bloody next time, the N.E.X.T., the next time, the bloody next time!
The end of the week. I’ll be over the end of the week. Christ, I’ll just. . the end of the week.
She had raised her arm and shut her eyelids and he got up and went over to her but he did not touch her. She opened her eyelids and said: You’re blocking the view.
Vi.
You’re blocking the view.
He stepped to the side, leaned his hand on the back of the settee, staring at her. Vi turned to face the sink. She lifted the teapot and asked, Want more tea?
No really
She nodded.
I dont feel like it.
She nodded again. Maybe you’re as well going.
D’you want me to?
O God. . She put down the teapot.
Do you want me to go?
Do what you bloody like, she said and turned abruptly, walking past him to sit where she had been sitting before.
Tammas waited a moment then he coughed and he stretched across for his cigarettes and matches.
Kirsty was looking at him, the biscuit showing in her hand.
Then Vi muttered, Remember your jacket.
He walked to the door, into the lobby, uplifted the jerkin from the peg there, having left the door ajar. He hesitated but only a moment, he unlocked the front door and stepped outside onto the landing, and closed the door, staring at the letterbox. He went downstairs quickly though only one step at a time and on arrival at close level he paused, and stayed, facing back up the space right the whole way up to the top. When he reached the closemouth he stopped again; he shook his head, sighing, and he muttered, For fuck sake. . and rubbed the corners of his eye sockets with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. Then he felt into each of the pockets in his jeans and then the same with his jerkin. Snowflakes were landing inside the close. He zipped up the jerkin.
It was lying quite thickly, making the different sounds dull so that when a vehicle passed it seemed to do so in silence. When he stepped off the pavement a faint crunching noise came from the snow drifted in at the kerb.
He was walking at a steady pace, head bowed into the swirl and keeping tight in to the tenement walls. Every so often he shook the snow off his jerkin and head but his hair was soaking now and his wrists always wet at the gap between the jerkin cuffs and edges of the pockets. And his cigarette packet was also wet. He brought it out as he went, checking the actual cigarettes were dry, then paused by a shop doorway to light one. A policeman stepped out of the next close, hands in his coat pockets and no snow covering his cap. Tammas continued walking, staring straight ahead, replacing the cigarettes in his pocket.
As he passed a corner he saw a clock on the interior wall of a bank: quarter of an hour since he had left Vi’s house.
The Clyde was not too far distant now and wide gap-sites had appeared. On one of them stood a pub, its brickwork showing it was once the ground level of an ordinary sized tenement building. Music was coming from it and it seemed to be ‘live’; a sort of folk music. He cut in at its rear to shelter while getting a cigarette alight. He kept the cigarette fixed in at the corner of his mouth but as he crossed the bridge the wind was fierce, making it burn quickly and he nipped off the ash and returned it to the packet. There was a slope down the other side and his left shoe skidded as he turned the corner and he seemed set to do the splits but just managed to grab a hold of the railings and stop himself, his right hand onto the ground to be balancing. Fucking bastard, he cried, and he glanced around. Three guys stood across the street, in an inshot near to another pub, talking away, not appearing to have noticed him at all. He wiped his hands on his jeans, shaking his head, muttering, Fucking bastard.
He started walking quickly then began to trot, attempting to land each foot on the ground as flatly possible, his left arm swinging freely while his right hand gripped the cigarette packet in the pocket of his jerkin, and he was making a groaning noise which was gradually becoming louder till it changed into a continual grunt of Ya bastard Ya bastard Ya bastard Ya bastard, each Ya bastard simultaneous with his foot hitting the ground. Another twenty minutes and he was thudding into his own close and leaning against the wall, his forehead resting upon his right forearm, his breathing harsh, a raking screeching sound.
After a time he pushed himself away from the wall, bending half over and placing his hands on his knees, taking longer, more controlled breaths. Down the middle of the concrete floor was one long wet patch where folk had passed on their way up the close. His eyelids shut. There was a throbbing at his right temple. He raised his hand and kept it there, feeling the bone at the side of his skull. He covered his eyes with both hands and straightened, turning side on to rest his shoulders against the wall, his hands dropping. Eventually, stepping nearer the closemouth, he cleared his throat and sucked in a breath of air, before blowing a mouthful of catarrh towards the street. And he brought out his cigarettes and withdrew a whole one and smoked it there.
•••
An old guy who was needing a shave was sitting on the floor with his back against a radiator, his legs splayed open. Tammas looked away as he passed on along the corridor and into the ward where his grandmother was. She was asleep, seated on an armchair by a window with a blanket tucked about her legs. There was another old woman in the next bed and she was awake and watching him although she seemed to be lying in an awkward position, as if she had been propped to sit upright and then toppled sideways. Hullo, he said and when she made no answer he turned from her and lifted a chair out from a stack, placing it carefully about three yards from his grandmother, in such a fashion that his view out the window was unrestricted. Across the way was the Nurses’ Home and occasionally nurses did appear, normally in twos and wearing capes, their arms linked and chatting together, walking quite fast. Layers of grey clouds in the sky. His grandmother was looking at him. He smiled. Hullo grannie. How you doing, you okay?
I’m fine.
He nodded. She was still looking at him and he smiled. No as cold now as it was. .
She gestured at the mobile cabinet near to the top of her bed; there was a jug of water on it.
D’you want a drink?
Yes. She was pointing to the cabinet drawer and he reached over to pull it out. Some plastic cups were inside. He poured her water into one and gave it to her and she took it in both hands; she glanced towards the ward door before sipping.
I’m maybe going up to Peterhead to work, he said. There’s no anything doing here at all except for maybe a job in a factory I could get. But I’d rather be out in the open air. . He grinned.
She sipped at the water again and made a slurping noise.
And are you eating your food alright?
No. . She smiled, shaking her head.
Margaret was saying it’s better now — because that wee highland nurse is back and giving them all what for!
His grandmother smiled.
From the next bed the old woman called: Hullo.
Hullo. He smiled.
She pointed at his grandmother and asked, Is she a relation?
Mm. She’s my grandmother.
That’s nice.
Tammas nodded and looked back to his grandmother who was sipping at the water but moving her left hand at him; wanting him to take the water from her now, holding the cup towards him. He put it back onto the cabinet. She placed her hands in her lap and raised her eyebrows. He smiled.
And are you married? the other old woman said.
No, hh!
Have you got a girlfriend?
Tammas smiled at her and then at his grandmother who was watching him.
Tch! The old woman shook her fist at him, chuckling. Then she added, She’s your grannie? That’s nice.
Aye. He said to his grandmother: Mrs Brady was asking for you.
O.
She was saying she’ll take a trip out to see you when the better weather comes in. Her legs are no very good either.
His grandmother nodded. She shifted slightly, looked towards the ward door. Another visitor was coming in, an elderly man with a bunch of flowers. And a woman followed, going to a different bedside, holding a couple of shopping bags and breathing noticeably, as if she had been hurrying.
Have I seen you before? asked the old woman in the next bed.
Tammas smiled. I’m no sure; it’s usually my sister that comes.
O.
Aye, Margaret, you’ve probably seen her.
O.
She usually comes a couple of times a week.
O, that’s nice.
Tammas nodded. His grandmother was still gazing towards the door. Outside two nurses had appeared from beneath the window, arms linked and heading across the grounds in the direction of the Home. One of them was smoking a cigarette and looked a bit like Betty from the back.
•••
He joined the queue at his signing on box but when he reached the counter the clerk told him he would have to go to the inquiries desk because he was nearly half an hour late. Three benches were in use here and he had to squeeze in on the end of the third, next to a woman of about 30 who was fidgeting with a handful of documents. She was smoking and chewing and smelled strongly of perfume and every so often she nibbled on the skin at the corners of her right thumbnail. When she finished the cigarette she dropped it to the floor but did not stub it out and she lighted a fresh one immediately. The other one smouldered where it had landed. She returned the lighter and cigarette packet into her handbag then put in the documents as well, and withdrew a paperback book, flipped through its pages. Soon she was engrossed in reading, the smoke from the cigarette drifting straight into Tammas’s face.
The next in line was called to the desk and slowly the queue edged along each bench until Tammas was able to move. A man squeezed in next to him. He was middle aged, wearing a camel coloured overcoat. A minute or so passed, and he said to Tammas, Excuse me eh do they take a while here? I’ve actually got an appointment and I was wondering if they let you go to the front — if you’ve got a real you know, a real reason, if you actually do have an appointment.
Tammas cleared his throat before saying quietly, Naw.
O, I see. The man smiled: It’s like that is it! He opened his coat and brought a Glasgow Herald out of an inside pocket and, turning to the backpage, folded it at the television section. On the other side the woman was opening her handbag again; she took out a tube of a sort of medicinal sweet, unwrapped one and put it into her mouth, snapped shut the handbag. Tammas had his UB40 in the back pocket of his jeans and he manoeuvred it out, began to read it. It was more than half an hour before his turn came.
Outside rain drizzled. He strode along to the top of the street and crossed at once, not waiting for the lights to change, having to dodge past traffic. Just as he reached the opposite pavement his name was shouted: it was McCann — waving to him, coming from the direction of the job centre. And he shouted again: Hey Tammas!
He waited.
McCann was smiling when he arrived. How you doing? stranger! Where you been hiding?
Tammas shrugged.
Billy was wondering and all — he was down the job centre earlier on. What’re you chucked drinking or what!
Naw, just — fucking skint man!
Aw, aw aye, aye, I know the problem!
Any smokes?
Hh! And as they began walking McCann added, I was through every fucking pocket in the house there before I left — nothing! no even a fucking dowp! And that wife of mine, Christ Almighty, she’s started planking the fucking purse!
Tammas smiled. Anything doing down by?
Fuck all! Catering job in the Channel Islands right enough, if you’re interested — commis chef.
Commis chef?
That’s what they call a learner. Bum wages but the conditions arent too bad. Bags of fucking sun and all that, plenty of nooky! They’ll give you it all except the fucking cash!
Tammas chuckled.
I’m no kidding ye Tammas — a brother of mine used to be in the game and he told me all about it. Like a fucking concentration camp so he says, these hotels.
Hh. . They continued along in silence for several moments. Tammas sniffed and said: Any word of Peterhead yet?
Naw, just the same Tammas, mainly concreters and brickies they’re starting; they’re no really fucking interested in sparks; no yet, no for another month or so.
Is that right?
Aye, Christ, you know what like it is.
Tammas nodded, pursing his lips. And after a few moments McCann went on, That’s how I was wanting a word with you, about that other thing, that bit of business I was telling you about.
Tammas glanced at him. McCann had slowed his pace a little and now he paused and stopped outside a newsagent whose side window was full of advertisements written in ink on the backs of postcards. Naw it’s just eh. . McCann lowered his voice, It’s just the fucking debt and that Tammas. I wouldnt want to fuck off out the road and leave her having to face it all on her tod. She’d wind up getting hit for plenty, and I’m no kidding ye.
You’ll be sending her money but surely?
O aye fair enough but by the time you get settled in and all that. You’ll have your fucking lying time, paying off your subs — takes a while to get sorted out I mean fuck sake Tammas it’s no just a case of walking in and that’s you.
Aw I know that.
Ah well. . McCann shrugged.
Tammas cleared his throat, he turned slightly, dropping a mouthful of spit to the pavement, rubbing on it with his shoe. They continued looking at the advertisements for a while, until McCann muttered, I’m getting wet. . and they carried on walking. Both had their hands in their pockets, shoulders hunched, occasionally parting company to keep from obstructing oncoming pedestrians. It was Tammas who broke the silence. There’s a cunt owes me a score, he said.
Eh?
Aye, bastard; owed me it for fucking ages so he has. I cant get it off him at all — pleads poverty every time I see him.
McCann nodded.
The last job I was in — that factory, we used to play cards on the nightshift, Fridays it was for dough, we all had the wages and that, pontoons, fucking great man, once we had done the quota and cleaned the machines, out came the cards — and you could fucking win a few quid as well! Tammas had turned to glance at McCann as they walked: And I’ll tell you something man, if it hadnt’ve been for that fucking — the cards man, if it hadnt’ve been for the cards. . Hh!
McCann nodded and chuckled. Peterhead’ll definitely suit you then Tammas, the fucking cards up there!
Aye, you were saying.
Fuck! they’re mad — crazy! you know what like it is in the building game! Plus cause they’re all staying in these fucking dormitories Tammas they’re all just sitting there, the wages in the pockets and all that, trying to stay out the boozers. No wanting to wind up fucking alkies so out comes the fucking cards and all that — all sorts of schools, brag and poker and fucking ponnies. You name it. Big money too. You’ve got to be fucking careful but, a lot of sharks so there are, cut your bolls off if they catch you pokling.
What?
No holds barred, anybody they catch at the pokle Tammas.
Aw thanks!
Naw, what I mean, even a cunt like Auld Roper, snatching a wee look at your dominoes — he’d get that fucking stick of his broke over his head!
Ah come on!
Naw, Christ Almighty, it’s fucking serious stuff.
Hh!
And I’m no fucking kidding ye!
Tammas nodded.
They had reached a junction beyond where McCann normally split off to travel to his own street. As the lights changed and they crossed he sniffed and said, Fancy a coffee?
A coffee?
A coffee, aye, up in my house — the wife’ll have brought in some fags; she’ll have been at the post office.
Aw.
Aye so. . you’re welcome.
Tammas shrugged. I’ve got a message to go, otherwise I. . thanks but.
Naw, it’s only I was wanting to have a wee word with you and that.
Aw aye.
About that other thing.
Tammas nodded.
I mean, you’ve got to think about it.
I know — Christ, I have, I have been.
McCann sniffed. He glanced to the side, cleared his throat, then indicating the nearest close he started heading towards it, and Tammas followed a moment later. Naw, he said, that guy I’m talking about, Kenny, he’s gen, straight down the line. And it’s me and you and him just, the three of us, and he says its about fifteen hundred. I mean — it’s good dough Tammas.
Aw I know, I know that.
See that’s how. . McCann stopped. He frowned: You worried about it?
Aye, fuck, hh.
Well you dont have to be.
Tammas shifted his stance, he stared out the close.
Come on we’ll go for a coffee. .
Naw honest Brian, I’ve got that message, it’s for the sister.
McCann shrugged: Suit yourself cause I mean the wife’ll have been out to the post office and all that.
Tammas nodded. Naw, he said, I really better eh. .
Fine; nobody’s forcing you Tammas.
Aw it’s no that man it’s just the sister and that she’s expecting me back I mean Christ, otherwise. .
No problem; no problem. McCann had nodded, then he went on quickly: See it’s just the debt and all that Tammas normally I’m fucking — no kidding ye! but see this past while? Naw, once you get married and all that. The fucking weans too! And the way I’m thinking — straightforward, just fucking — get a few quid, just fucking get a few quid, pay off the debt, get a bit of gear the gether, then off up north, Peterhead, no worries — no worries Tammas, the wife and the weans and that, fine. See I mean that guy I was telling you about he’s gen, he’s gen; I’m no kidding ye — I used to work beside him in the yards. Gen, he’s fucking, straight down the line.
Tammas nodded.
Cause I’ll be honest with you — and I mean it Tammas — if I could get this debt cleared off I’d be away the morrow morning, the morrow morning.
Mm.
McCann was looking at him.
I dont know man, I dont know. I just eh. .
Look, every cunt gets worried about something like this. But when the time comes you’re fine, you fucking handle it I mean, Tammas, I’m no fannying you.
Aw I know, I know that; but it’s just — I dont know man.
What? What d’you mean?
Naw, just. .
What? What you thinking? Tell us.
Tammas nodded then he sniffed.
Come on, tell us.
Aw Christ man I dont know.
Is it just cause it’s thieving and that? Is that what it is? Because it’s thieving?
O! Aye, Christ, I mean, I’ve never fucking done anything like that before I mean Christ screwing a place man, never. Hh! Tammas laughed briefly. He shook his head, cleared his throat. And he stepped to the closemouth to peer outside, before taking a deep breath and blowing the spittle right out towards the gutter. He cleared his throat again, glanced back at McCann. . Did you no think of asking Billy?
Billy?
Aye.
Naw, no really.
O fuck!
Dont worry about it.
Naw it’s no that man I’m. . He shivered suddenly. Wish to fuck I had a smoke!
That’s what I’m telling ye Tammas the wife’ll have some up the stair.
Mm. He began shivering again, and his teeth then chattering till he had to shut his mouth, and he laughed in a sort of fit of gasps for some seconds. He walked a few paces down the close, stopped and turned, shrugging.
McCann said, Be a lot of dough as well Tammas; maybe the five hundred apiece.
Hh.
McCann nodded, looking at him.
Mm.
Good dough.
Aye.
I mean I’ll be frank with you Tammas I’m giving you the option cause we’re supposed to be going up to fucking Peterhead the gether — to give us a fucking start — that’s what I’m talking about, to give us a start.
Tammas nodded.
I mean fuck sake, I could go walking into Simpson’s right now and pick any one from ten. Eh — I mean you know what I’m saying?
Aye.
Aye. . McCann stared at him, then he turned and spat to the front of the close.
Tammas coughed, he rubbed his hands together with a slapping sound, his shoulders moving in a circular manner. Then McCann glanced at him and asked, Well?
What?
Well. What d’you say?
How d’you mean like?
Tch. McCann shook his head and turned away.
Naw I mean eh just — can I think about it?
Aye but fuck sake Tammas I told you about it a while ago.
Tammas nodded.
McCann held his hands out the way, palms upturned. Know what I mean?
Aye.
Aye — hh! McCann shook his head.
I’ll tell you soon.
Aye well fuck, Tammas, it’ll have to be — otherwise. . He shrugged.
Tammas nodded.
•••
Eventually the outside door banged shut. Margaret was off to work. Once he had dressed he switched the radio on ben the kitchen, but not to play too loudly, and he sat at the table drinking tea and reading last night’s Evening Times, the racing page. Then the footsteps on the landing and he was onto his feet and into the lobby as the mail came flying through the letterbox. Two of them; his giro plus an electricity bill addressed to Robert.
In the bedroom he checked the pawn tickets in the corner of the bottom drawer in the cupboard but he left them there. On his way out he emptied the last 10 pence coin from the meterbowl. It was just after 8.30 am and the cafe would not open for a while yet. He went to a general stores a couple of streets away, bought a single and a box of matches; and he was striking the match and lighting up before being returned his change from the man behind the counter. He stood in the doorway outside for some moments, watching a group of primary schoolchildren pass by; and then two women, one of whom he knew. They exchanged Good mornings. He walked along to join the queue at the sub post office and once the cheque was cashed he bought a copy of the Sporting Life and a packet of cigarettes from the newsagent in his own street, getting an extra £1’s worth of 10 pence coins in the process, before going home.
•••
This hammering, it seemed to have been going on for ages. Moving onto his side again he tugged the blankets over his head, then he moved onto his front, face down on the pillow, closing its material over his left ear and a loud roaring noise like listening to a shell at the seaside. He only stayed on his front for a few moments after the hammering had stopped.
He sat up with his back against the bedhead, reached to the cupboard for the book and the cigarette packet, blinking into the bedside light. A piece of silver paper was marking his place and he turned the pages to it, looked at it a moment; he took out a cigarette, leaving two inside. The hammering resumed. It seemed to be coming from through the wall, from the adjacent flat up the next close. He gazed at the wall. He looked back to the book, and then returned it onto the cupboard, returned the cigarette to the packet and laid it on top of the book, and reached to switch off the light. He was lying on his side with the blankets to his chin when he heard footsteps in the lobby: Robert — going to the bathroom. Soon the cistern was emptying, refilling, and then a creak outside the door and Robert chapped and called: Heh Tammas!
Aye?
Okay?
Aye!
Can I come in?
Just a minute! He slid out of bed and pulled on his jeans and socks and was tugging down his jersey while going to the door. I was just reading, he said.
Robert nodded.
Tammas jerked his head in the direction of the bedside lamp: I just put the light out a minute ago.
Aye. Robert sniffed: Just making a bit of supper and that you coming ben?
Eh. .
The football’s coming on the telly.
O aye, aye. Hey d’you hear the hammering?
Ah it’s only the house falling down!
Hh.
Dont worry but it’s no serious.
Tammas grinned.
Hey how did Hull do by the way I never heard the results?
Two each.
Aw good — away from home too?
Aye. Tammas nodded. Trouble is you dont even know if Rab’s playing cause there’s no reports.
Och he’ll be playing!
You never know right enough.
Come on. Robert paused a moment then turned to leave, adding: Beans and toast in five minutes.
Tammas called: Dont burn it!
You’re worse than your sister!
•••
Billy came up for him at 10 minutes to 7 on the Monday morning. Tammas was already up and in the kitchen, eating the bowl of porridge Margaret had made for him. She offered Billy one but he shook his head. I’m on a diet, he said.
Ha ha! Margaret raised her eyebrows. If I was as skinny as you!
Billy laughed, sitting down opposite Tammas, and he said: It’s nothing personal by the way, coming up as early as this man!
But you’re quite right, replied Margaret. If I hadnt been here he’d have slept in.
Tammas continued eating, adding more milk to the bowl.
And are they sticky about time? asked Margaret.
No half! 3 minutes and you’re quartered — an hour and you’re sent home.
Honestly?
Aye. I was late twice that first week — gave the auld man a right showing up — he’s no been quartered for twenty years!
Margaret smiled; she was pouring tea, getting out an extra cup for him. And later, when they were set to leave, she palmed Tammas a pound note. The front door was open and Billy had stepped out onto the landing. Tammas whispered, Aw thanks Margaret.
She shook her head slightly, frowning.
Naw, he said, thanks.
She closed over the door.
For the first six weeks he would be training on the job and if proving satisfactory he would be given a place on the line. Until then he was to be kept on constant dayshift. Billy had started the fortnight before but in a different section. You’re in the rolling mill, he said, it’s supposed to be a bit of a bastard.
Tammas followed him into the factory and on to where the gaffer of the rolling section had his office. Billy grinned and left him standing at the door. See you at the canteen!
Tammas watched him walk quickly off and round a corner. It was quite a few minutes till the gaffer came out and opened the door, beckoning him to come in. He explained briefly what the job was about then led him to the floor where the rolling machine was situated. Hey Peter! he shouted to a man. The man came across. This is the new fellow. . The gaffer nodded at Tammas and went away.
Tammas followed Peter to behind the roller. Peter indicated where he wanted him to stand and he said: Stay there and keep your eyes open. And I might as well tell you, they shoes you’re wearing, they’re fucking no good. Surprised the gaffer didnt tell you.
He never mentioned it.
While he was talking Peter had picked up an enormous pair of heavy-duty clamps, positioning himself at a point to the side of the roller. There was a younger guy now standing on the other side of it. Tammas could see his head on occasion, bobbing about. A banging sound from the roller. Peter was now crouching. A white hot copper bar of around 6’ in length and maybe 8” thick issued from it. Peter caught the end of it with the clamps, brought it forwards to the edge of the machine; he allowed it to drop a short way onto a wee mobile iron trolley. He steadied it, still gripping the clamps at its tip, and swung it sideways a little, pushed it into another part of the roller. Then he moved a couple of yards to his left and waited. The banging sound. He crouched, he was farther back from the machine than previously. The copper bar issued. It was now about 12’ in length and maybe 4” thick, and was an orange colour. Peter repeated the process with the wee trolley. And once he had pushed the bar back into the roller he turned to Tammas, wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his right wrist, but said nothing. He lifted a smaller pair of clamps and stood as before, though farther back again. The bar was much longer now, a grey red in colour, and he used a much smaller trolley to manoeuvre it back in. For the next stage he went right up close to the machine and stood facing away from it, but looking down to between his knees, to where he was holding the clamps apart, just out from a wee hole the diameter of a golf ball. He glanced at Tammas just as another banging sound came and suddenly he had clamped onto the end of the issuing copper wire and was running with it, heading diagonally, making towards a thing like a kerb across the width of the floor, and behind him the wire still issuing, and he was shifting a bit as he ran, and steadying the clamps, to go thrusting the end of the copper wire straight into a narrow gap tunnelled through the kerb. And as he thrust it in Peter was jumping over the kerb. The gap was angled so that the wire darted out directly in line to a guy who was working a different sort of machine away up in the corner, a big circular device with a sort of cranking handle attached.
Peter stepped back over the kerb, putting the clamps in their place. Wiping his brow he said to Tammas, It might look easy but it isnt.
Tammas nodded. Peter was taking out his cigarettes and he lighted one for himself, tossed the packet onto an upturned oil drum near the wall. He asked, You done anything like it before?
Naw, no really.
Tch. Peter shook his head, and he walked to the machine and picked at something; he bent to lift the heavy-duty clamps, positioned them upright at the point where the bar would issue firstly. He called: I’ll give you a shot before the break. Just watch till then. Where’s your gloves?
Gloves?
Jesus Christ. You cant expect to work the fucking clamps without them — I do it but I’m fucking used to it I mean it takes a fucking while to get the heat. You’ll no manage without a pair in the beginning.
He never mentioned it.
Peter shook his head. He went behind the roller and began to speak to the other guy. The two of them returned. Tell him, said Peter.
What?
Tell him, about the gloves and that.
Naw just, the gaffer, no mentioning them.
Fuck me!
And the helmet, muttered Peter, tell him about the helmet.
Aye, he never mentioned it either. And the shoes, nothing about them. Tammas sniffed, he took his cigarettes out and lighted one.
The other guy said, Might be a spare pair in the locker-area.
Boots?
Naw Christ I’m talking about gloves. The man grinned, You’ll have to get yourself a pair of boots. The first-aid, you’ll get them there — deduct it off your wages. Some no bad styles they’ve got. Eh Peter?
Suede. The fucking lot they’ve got. Wear them up the fucking dancing if you like!
Wouldnt be the first time, laughed the other guy.
Peter nodded. Anyway, time for another. .
Tammas followed his gaze, seeing the overhead crane down at the very far end of the floor; a big furnace door had been pulled open and the next copper bar was being dragged out in a shower of sparks.
He positioned himself nearer to the roller this time, watching everything Peter was doing. Peter made no acknowledgment till he had taken the stance with his back to it, set for the last issue. He called, Watch this yin specially, you’ve got to be fucking careful. If you pull at it you’ll fucking stretch the bastard and that’s it a binger. You’ve got to let it carry you along. If you go too slow you’re fucked, cause what’ll happen it’ll fucking bend right up behind you and it’ll fucking jam, it’ll no go through, and that’s you, another fucking binger! Peter shook his head. His cigarette was in the corner of his mouth and he moved it across to the other corner without taking his hands from the handles of the smaller clamps, not looking from the gap between his knees. Then the bang; and he was running.
By the time tea break arrived Tammas was still waiting to make his first attempt. He walked behind the machine and sat up on the oil drum. Then Peter appeared and handed him a pair of big gloves. The tips were missing on most of the fingers. He shrugged: It’s the best I could find.
Tammas pulled them on without replying. Peter pointed to the clamps and said, The main thing is no to panic.
When the bang came and the bar issued Tammas raised the heavy-duty clamps, getting them round the end as it came slowly out the roller, and he gripped them there and tugged it slightly, lowering it off but it dropped down onto the trolley and angled a bit and he had the clamps still firmly there but moving as it continued to angle then roll and his fingers were poking out the gloves and he let the clamps go and the copper bar crashed down and bounced and he had to jump up and to the side to get out its path. Peter also had to jump. He shook his head and cried: I told you no to fucking panic!
I didnt panic, cried Tammas pulling off the gloves, my fingers were fucking burning!
Fuck sake! Peter was glaring at him. Then he shook his head again and he turned away; he walked to the end of the machine and gave a piercing whistle down towards the furnace. He roared: Hey Willie! Willie! Willehhh. .
The overhead crane started to move. When it reached the rolling machine the guy who worked it pressed the button for the huge hook to descend. Peter wangled it around the tip of the copper bar which was much duller in colour now. Okay Willie! he called. And the cranedriver raised the hook just sufficient for Peter to slide the mobile trolley in below it. Peter then waved and Willie drove the crane back down towards the furnace. He glanced at Tammas, indicated the clamps and added: Okay, carry on.
Tammas got the clamps round the end of the bar and pushed forwards, working the bar on the trolley to the place it entered on the roller but in the process he nudged at the bar with his foot and the shoe burst into flames. For fuck sake! He jumped back the way, stubbing and stubbing his toe at the floor to put out the fire. Meanwhile the copper bar had rolled off the trolley and was lying flat on the floor again. Peter did not say anything. He walked to the end of the machine and gave the piercing whistle. . Willehhh! And then he cleared his throat and spat, and he turned to Tammas. I told you ye needed boots.
When the crane arrived he beckoned Tammas forwards while he motioned the driver to lower the hook; but the driver called to him: No fucking good Peter, bar’s too fucking cold.
Jesus Christ! Another bastarn fucking binger! Peter shook his head; he wiped his mouth with the back of his right wrist.
The guy from the other side of the roller had appeared. It’ll be okay, he said, they know we’ve got a learner; we just dock it off the time sheet.
Peter nodded.
The younger guy grinned at Tammas: Hot in here son eh! Mon we’ll have a fucking bevy!
Tammas looked at him. But the man was waving him to follow him and he shrugged and walked after him. Soon the overhead crane was returning with the copper bar, to put it back into the furnace.
Peter joined them. The other guy had opened a metal cupboard, bringing out a brown bottle; its glass was thick and mottled and its size was about that of an ordinary whisky bottle. He swigged a mouthful and handed it on to Peter who swigged some and handed it to Tammas. Dont drink too much, he said.
Or you’ll get a dose of the skitters, chuckled the other guy. It’s given to us for the sweat we lose. It replaces it. Undiluted; a kind of lime.
Tammas drank some. No bad, he said.
Good with vodka! Bring in a bottle the morrow and give it a buzz.
Wouldnt be the first time! muttered Peter.
Tammas smiled. He took out his cigarettes, lighted one, then offered to the other two; they both took one and he struck the match. Then the sound of the overhead crane starting up. Peter said: Okay that’s us. Ready for another crack?
Tammas looked at him.
Eh?
Just now you mean?
Got to get the hang of it sooner or later.
Peter’s right.
Hh!
Peter exhaled smoke, glancing at the approach of the crane. And the other guy said, You’re definitely better to go straight at it.
Tammas shrugged and pointed at his shoes. No with them, they’re useless — and the fucking gloves as well I mean, Christ!
You’ve got to learn but.
Aye I know.
Well.
Once I’ve got the proper gear.
Go and see the gaffer then, muttered Peter. It’s fuck all to do with me.
I will.
Aye well fucking go then!
What d’you mean the now?
No point hanging about here, no if you’re no going to fucking even attempt it.
Well I would if I had the proper gear to wear.
Ah you’ll be alright, said the other guy.
No without the proper gear.
Go and tell the gaffer then.
Aye, okay. Tammas shook his head and left them there, and he walked straight down to the gaffer’s office. A girl was in with him. She had a bundle of papers under one arm and was leaning over his desk, pointing to something on a paper he had in front of him. She was wearing a blouse and a skirt. He waited until she exited then chapped the door and entered. The gaffer gazed at him. My shoes, said Tammas, they’re useless. Look. . he displayed the toe of the burnt one. It went in bloody flames, just touched the bar and it went on fire. I need steel toe-caps.
Mm.
And the gloves as well. That guy Peter got me a pair but they’re all holes and the heat comes through. Murder when it touches the bare skin, the clamps.
Aye well you get all that stuff in the first-aid. Did Peter no tell you?
He says I’ve to see you.
Christ I dont have it. I dont have anything here, it’s all kept in the first-aid.
I’ve actually got a pair of boots in the house with steel toe-caps.
Have you?
Aye.
The gaffer nodded.
I’ll bring them the morrow.
Fine. The gaffer nodded once more. . Okay then?
Eh aye, but what about the gloves and that will I go to the first-aid?
O Christ aye, go ahead, you better get them.
And the safety helmet.
The safety helmet’s really important, aye, mind and get yourself one. And tell Peter and them cause whenever I fucking pass I dont see them wearing it. And it’s the safety code in here to wear it. Okay then?
Tammas nodded. I’ll just go up the first-aid.
Aye. . The gaffer sniffed. Then he added: Mind you and tell Peter and them about they bloody safety helmets.
The first-aid room was across by the administration offices in a different, more quiet, part of the factory. Once he had collected a new pair of asbestos gloves and a safety helmet he returned to the rolling mill. Peter was busy with a new copper bar. Tammas called, I’ve just to watch till I get my boots the morrow morning.
Peter nodded, not looking at him.
O aye and the gaffer told me to tell you to mind about the safety helmets.
Peter made no acknowledgement.
At noon the younger guy appeared and told Tammas it was dinner time. Peter had walked off, not having spoken to him since his return from seeing the gaffer. But the two men were not having their breaks then, they had eaten earlier, during the tea break. They were on the early shift from 6 am to 2 pm and were paid straight through the full eight hours. Workers on the ordinary day shift were there from 8 am until 4.45 pm and received a full forty five minutes at dinner time.
When he had found his way to the canteen he saw Billy sitting with a wee group of other men at a corner table. They were laughing. Billy turned to wave him over and he squeezed in beside them. The rest continued their own conversation while Billy asked, How’s it going?
Tammas looked at him.
What is it as bad as that!
Bad as that! Tammas raised his right foot, displaying the scorched shoe. Look at the fucking state of this!
A burst of laughter from the others at the table — Billy’s maybe louder than anyone’s. We heard! he cried. We heard! They’ve nicknamed you Hotfoot!
Tammas shook his head. He opened his cigarette packet and gave one to Billy, lighted his own and put the packet back in his pocket.
One of the men, still chuckling, said: Ah you’ll be alright son dont worry about it! Best job in the place once you get to know it — best fucking bonus and all! without a fucking shadow of doubt!
Tammas shrugged. He inhaled on the cigarette, staring over to the counter where a long queue of men in dungarees and boiler suits had formed.
Once the others at the table resumed talking Billy murmured, He’s right but man that’s what I’ve heard as well, them on the roller, they earn a fucking bomb so they do. Bags of overtime as well. They’re in every fucking Sunday, my auld man was telling me.
Where you working?
The pattern shop.
The pattern shop?
Billy shrugged. It’s difficult to explain; it’s cutting and things.
Aw.
Influence!
Tammas nodded. Billy had a copy of the Daily Record in front of him on the table and he asked, Can I have a look?
I’m studying myself, replied Billy, opening it at the racing page and holding it so that Tammas could see it with him. There’s a boy carries bets.
Is there?
Aye.
Great. Tammas was nodding as he spoke, gazing at the programme of races. I dug out a couple of big outsiders last night in the Times. . He shifted on his seat, put his hand into his jeans’ pocket and checked the money he had left. You got a pencil and a bit of paper?
The boy’ll have it. .
The two of them continued reading the racing pages, barely talking, until eventually one of the teaboys entered. When he came to their table he gave out betting slips and he also had a pen which each person who wanted a bet used in turn. Tammas backed a four horse comedy for 55 pence, and he paid the additional coppers in tax.
Around half past twelve the canteen was emptying as the men returned to their parts of the factory and Tammas sat on with Billy for a few minutes. As they were leaving a queue of office workers formed; both males and females, the former in suits or jackets and trousers, and wearing shirts and ties. They filed in as the last of the hourly paid men went out.
At 2 pm Tammas was sitting in the smoke-area while the back shift men prepared to start work. Peter and the younger guy had gone to clean up about five minutes ago. Then he spotted Peter, away down near the exit, talking to a man and gesturing in his direction. Tammas sniffed and glanced at the roller, he rose, lifting his cigarettes and matches, and walked over to behind it.
He was watching the backshift man who was doing Peter’s job when the teaboy appeared. The man was on the bit where he allowed the bar to drop down onto the mobile trolley. The teaboy also watched for a time, then he called, Heh jimmy that’s some start to your line you’ve got, eh!
What? Tammas frowned at him.
Nobody told you yet?
Told me?
Aye your fucking line, the first two man they’ve stoated!
What?
Aye! The teaboy laughed: 20’s and 16’s!
What?
Aye, your first two!
Ye kidding?
Naw, honest! The teaboy laughed at the guy with the clamps and jerked his thumb at Tammas: He doesnt fucking believe me!
Hh! The guy smiled.
20’s and 16’s? said Tammas.
Aye. Nearly eighteen quid you’ve got already!
Tammas nodded and then he sniffed: Time’s it?
Three o’clock.
Tammas pulled the safety helmet from his head and sticking it on top of the oil drum alongside the new asbestos gloves he glanced at the man with the clamps: I’m away, he said.
A male office worker was in the gaffer’s office, sitting on a chair facing him across the desk. Tammas chapped twice on the door and walked straight in. Can you make up my cards? he asked.
What?
It doesnt. . I’m no suited. . Tammas was shaking his head as he held his foot up, showing the shoe. Nearly burnt the foot off me this morning!
Aye but you’re getting your boots, said the gaffer, after a pause.
Ach naw I just — I’ll just lift my cards.
But it’s your first day just. Hh! The gaffer was holding a cigarette in his hand and he gestured with it at Tammas while addressing the other man: There you are; it’s his first bloody day and here he is wanting to wrap it.
The man made no comment.
I’m no used to the work, said Tammas.
Aye but you’ve got to learn it!
Naw it’s. . Tammas shook his head. Just make up my cards.
What d’you mean make up your cards — I cant just go making up your cards. It’s too bloody late anyway and it’s got to get done through the bloody office. No chance! The gaffer inhaled on the cigarette and blew out the smoke immediately.
You can send them on then or else I’ll pick them up.
Whatever you like.
Okay, said Tammas and he turned and left the office, pausing to call: I’ll get them the morrow morning.
Collecting his jerkin from the locker-area he raced on to the exit and right out and up the road to the betting shop. The boardman was marking up the results of the race his third runner was in, its name being marked up, into the first position, 9 to 1. His third runner had won at 9 to 1. Nine to one. Tammas closed his eyelids. 20’s 16’s and 9’s; 50 to 20 was 10 plus the 50 is 10.50 at 16’s; 10.50 at 16’s. He walked to the counter and got a pencil and a betting slip and went to one of the wall ledges to check the figures. As far as he reckoned he had £178 alone for the treble, £178 going on to his fourth and final runner, £178. That was a lot of money, it was fine, good money, plus the doubles, even if it lost, the fourth runner. Tammas nodded. It was good money — plus the three doubles, the 20’s and 16’s and the other two. Win lose or draw he had £178 plus three doubles — about another thirty or forty quid. Two hundred quid minimum. He opened the cigarette packet, put one in his mouth and looked for his matches, he did not have them, he must have left them on the oil drum or someplace. He walked to the counter and asked the woman cashier for a loan of her lighter. She pushed it beneath the grille to him. A sweetish taste in his mouth. He examined the betting slip once again and dragged on the cigarette. The taste had been there all day, to do with the heat probably, and the copper bars. The fourth runner was forecast favourite and favourites always had a favourite’s chance, the most fancied horse in the race, the best fancied horse in the race, the horse with the best chance of winning — the horse that always let you down. It did not always let you down. Sometimes it won. Just not often.
He walked across to one of the walls where the formpages were tacked up but he stopped. He knew the betting forecast on the race, the favourite being reckoned an even money chance. There was nothing else he needed to know. Not now. He had backed it and that was that, the money was running on and there was nothing he could do about it, either the horse would win or it would lose. There was not anything in between.
A hundred and seventy going on to it, it was good dough. And win lose or draw there was still a return. He would receive cash in exchange for the slip of paper; and that is what it is about.
A show of betting was coming through the extel speaker. The fourth runner in the accumulator was favourite as forecast. They were making it a 13/8 chance. To a hundred and seventy eight was 356 plus 3/8ths say about sixty quid. No — 5/8ths; 356 plus 5/8ths, about another 100, say about another hundred quid, about four hundred and fifty all in — plus all the doubles — and the trebles, the trebles alone, amounting to a fortune. A fortune. No point in even reckoning such a sum, not until it had won — either, or lost. Yet it had to be close to a grand, the thousand — it had to be close to a thousand, the thousand quid, it had to be.
He left the bookie’s and crossed the road and stared into the window of a shop. It was glasses, a display of glasses, a display of glasses, it was an optician’s shop, all fancy types of spectacles. The favourite was on its own. There was no question about that. It was a race for novice chasers over 2½ miles. Some people would call it a bad race to bet in but sometimes it could be a good race to bet in. And the favourite was favourite because it was the best horse in the field, because of its good form over hurdles; this was only its second race over the bigger obstacles. That sweetish taste in the mouth when he inhaled on the cigarette. It would have to do with the copper. The copper and the smoking together.
A loud voice from across the road. Two guys laughing about something at the entrance to the betting shop.
He nipped the cigarette and walked back over.
The favourite was now in to 5/4 which was good or bad, good or bad, depending. Yet it did not matter. None of any of that really mattered. And if the horse stayed on its feet it was a certainty. That was the fact. The only gamble: whether it would jump the fences. Tammas reckoned the horse would have been about 4 to 1 on if the race had been over hurdles. Just before the off the last show of betting had it in to even money.
It fell three fences from home. It seemed to be in a good challenging position at the time, before it toppled, before it fell.
•••
He stepped back a couple of yards, squinted up at the high windows. Lights were on inside. A lollipop-woman was watching him. She frowned at him. The bank doesnt open till half nine, she said.
Aw. He nodded.
There was a grocer’s along the road. He bought an orange and a bar of chocolate, peeled the orange skin as he returned, dumping it into a wastebin at the corner where the bank was. The doors had opened already and two people were in in front of him but when it was his turn he pushed the wad of notes under the grille and said to the clerk: I want to open an account for a hundred and twenty pounds.
Is it current or deposit?
Eh deposit.
Deposit. Fine. The clerk began counting out the money.
He went to the broo afterwards and reregistered; and then to the pawn where he redeemed all the stuff he had outstanding. Back in the house he laid the things on the bed and placed the bankbook upright against the alarm clock, the new UB40 balancing against it. He had paid Margaret rent money in advance and now, from the corner of the bottom cupboard drawer, he brought out a bundle of notes and separated them into their denominations. There was more than £50. Unfastening his wristwatch he laid it on the money, and went into the bathroom, and began filling the bath from the hot water tap.
Around dinner time he walked into town and watched snooker for about an hour, then he went to the pictures. He stayed out afterwards, eating in a Chinese restaurant and sipping two pints of beer in a lounge in the city centre. He finished up in the Royal casino but only gambled £5 on the tables. Next morning he remained in bed until late, spent the afternoon in a different cinema; he ate in a chip shop in the evening and again went to a pub and on to the Royal, this time without gambling at all. It was after 2 a.m. when he got home and there was a light on in Margaret and Robert’s bedroom. He clicked shut the outside door and stayed on the spot for several seconds. He walked very quietly to his room.
The following day, at around 1 pm, he was standing spectating in the snooker hall. He had been there nearly an hour and it was becoming extremely busy. When he was returning from the lavatory one of the elderly attendants was just hanging the full-up notice on the back of the swing doors. He walked to the top table where a tournament was in progress and found a spare place to lean against a pillar. He took out his cigarettes, put one into his mouth; then he took it back out and turned and headed towards the exit, nodding to the old guy on the door. Up the stairs he paused to glance at his wristwatch but continued on, past the pub where he occasionally went for a pie and a pint, down across Argyle Street, in the direction of the bus terminal.
•••
Vi was not in. She would be out at her work. She worked during the day. There had only been a very slight chance that she would have been in. He flapped the letterbox and rang the doorbell again. Nothing. And it was black inside. Vi always closed the kitchen door and the lavatory door so that nobody could see anything by looking through the letterbox.
Tammas was smoking. He took one more drag on the cigarette and then nipped it and stuck the dowp back in the packet, and stepped to the staircase but turned and crossed the landing and chapped Cathy’s door.
It’s you! she said. Vi’s at her work.
Aye. I thought she would be. Will she be back later?
Yeh, come in.
He shrugged.
Come on in, she said, opening the door more widely for him.
Ah well, if it’s okay.
Of course.
Kirsty was in the kitchen; she was sitting in one of the armchairs with a pile of toys. Cathy’s own baby was asleep on the bed in the recess, lying on top of the cover with a patchwork type of blanket tucked about it.
He waved to the girl: Hullo Kirsty! How’s it going? He smiled and took a packet of sweeties out his pocket. This is for you, he said.
She gazed at him.
D’you want them?
She glanced at Cathy then back to him.
Cathy whispered, She wont go near a man hardly — even George; and she knows him well. If he tries to lift her!
Tammas nodded.
Cathy smiled and waved him onto the settee: Sit down, sit down! Tea or coffee?
Thanks.
Tea or coffee!
O aye eh whatever you’re having yourself.
Tch!
Well eh. .
Coffee?
Aye, coffee’d be great. . He winked at Kirsty who had glanced across at him, and he said: Hey Cathy I thought you had two weans?
I have, the girl’s at school.
School?
Cathy grinned: I know, I was married young! Pregnant at 16 married at 17; I thought I was going to be dead at 18!
He laughed.
I’m no kidding ye! And she’s just turned 6, the lassie, I’m no that old!
O I know, I know I mean it just seems funny, having a wean at school.
Seems funny to me as well. But never mind.
I meant to ask you, did you wind up getting drunk at Hogmany after all?
Cathy made a face. No, no really, it wouldnt have been appreciated. That family of George’s! what a shower. Over they come every New Year and all they do is sit there moaning and talking behind each other’s backs. It’s his fault but — George; he’s too soft. God, I cant stand them — sometimes I think you’re better off without relations all the gether! Cathy shook her head and grinned: It’s mutual right enough, ever since we met. Because I was too young for George. The wee girl they called me! George’s wee girl. Even in front of my face! Does George’s wee girl want another cake. Is the wee girl wanting another cup of tea.
Hh!
It was to each other they said it. Anyway, it was my own fault. I let them get away with it. I shouldnt have. I should just have told them straight out from the beginning. Tch, who cares!
Cathy gave her attention to the coffee, making it in two large mugs which she carried and placed on a coffee-table with a glass top. It was between the settee and the other armchair and it was on the other armchair she sat down herself. She was wearing jeans and a jersey and she sat with her legs tucked beneath her. Do you go up the dancing much? she asked.
Naw no that much. Sometimes.
She nodded. It’s eighteen month since I’ve been there. It was a staff dance. I never went to the last yin because of the baby; I was like the side of a house. They’d all have been looking at me, them in George’s work — a bunch of right toffee noses so they are.
Okay if. .
It’s because they work in an office Tammas. They think they are something.
He nodded. Hey is it okay if eh. .? He had the cigarettes in his hand.
Of course. It’s about time for Kirsty’s nap anyway. Isnt it Kirsty! Kirsty! You ready for your nap? Cathy winked at Tammas and went on: Yes now time for your nap Kirsty, a wee baby sleep; you going into the pram?
Kirsty was smiling at her.
I’m going to put you into the pram! And David can stay on the bed. Or will I give him your cot? Eh will I give him your cot? and you can have his pram? Eh? Will I? Cathy had moved from the armchair onto her feet and she was crouching as though about to spring at the girl who laughed aloud and moved back the way in anticipation and then Cathy lunged forwards and grabbed her up, tickling her and making her laugh loudly. And she held her out to Tammas. A kiss for Uncle Tammas?
Kirsty jerked her head away, to peer back over her shoulder.
Come on now Kirsty!
Tammas said, It’s alright Cathy.
Tch! Come on now Kirsty, a kiss for Uncle Tammas! She held the girl out to him and he touched her on the cheek with his nose.
That’s a nose kiss! he said.
A nose kiss! Cathy shook her head.
Kirsty was gazing at him and he winked and pointed at the sweeties on the mantelpiece. They’re for you!
Tch, you’ll spoil her! And as she walked to the door she called, Come on, you bring him!
What?
Cathy paused by the door, jerking her head at the bed: The baby!
Me bring him you mean?
Cathy grinned at Kirsty: Silly man! Isnt he? a big silly man!
Naw but you want me to bring him ben like? he said, half rising from the settee.
Of course.
He continued on across to the bed. The baby was lying on its side, the head at an angle as though looking up the way, and the left arm was up to the face, the fist clenched. Hh! Tammas glanced at Cathy and smiled. What do I do?
What does he do!
Naw eh. . He grinned, rubbed behind his ear. Do I just actually lift him up?
Yeh, of course, but just mind his head and neck, just put your hand under his head, to support it. He’ll no wake up anyway as it happens — he’s like his father, he’ll sleep forever!
Tammas hesitated a moment. He reached down and laid his right hand behind the baby’s head and neck and his left hand onto the shoulder, and lifted him straight up, with the blanket hanging. What about this blanket? he asked.
Just leave it.
He moved the baby out from him and the blanket dropped onto the bed. The baby’s eyelids flickered open. He stared at the face; he was still holding the baby with his right hand behind the head and neck and the left hand balancing at the shoulder.
The door had opened. Cathy was standing in the doorway with her back to it. Come on, she said.
He turned and watched in front of his feet as he followed her out and ben the lobby and into the front room, and he waited while Cathy prepared Kirsty in the cot. So it’s two rooms you’ve got? he asked.
Yeh, and a shower. George put it in two years ago. It adds on to the value if we want to sell it.
It’s a single-end Vi has. . Tammas stared at the baby’s face while speaking.
I know. We’re keeping our eyes open but. Course she’s rented you know Tammas and she was lucky to get it — it was him spoke for her, Milly’s man, what do you call him?
Joe?
That’s right. She was really desperate at the time because of Wylie. He was going to get her. He told everybody he was going to break out and come looking. She was terrified. Terrified! Hh! Vi. You know what like Vi is. Imagine her being terrified!
Cathy had lain Kirsty in the cot and tucked the blankets about her and she laid her hand flatly on the girl’s forehead, keeping it there as she said quietly, A nutcase he was. The whole family. Bloody guns and knives and. . She shook her head. All nutcases.
Tammas sniffed. Cathy was gazing at Kirsty who was not returning the gaze although her eyes were open; but she was almost sleeping; and now her lids closed over. Cathy turned and took the baby from him and she stepped over to put him down into the pram.
Nothing more was said until they had returned to the kitchen. Tammas sat down on the settee. What about that guy Stan? he asked. I mean he seems to do alright by her and that I mean he doesnt seem anything — no anything bad I mean.
He just fancies her Tammas.
What?
He does, yeh. Anyway, she has to keep on his right side.
Hh.
Cathy glanced at him. What is it?
He shook his head. Nothing. . After a few moments he reached for his cigarettes again.
You smoke an awful lot.
Och, no that much.
How many a day?
Depends. He struck a match, inhaled and exhaled. Sometimes I dont smoke any.
Honest?
Aye, when I’m skint!
Aw, tch! Cathy laughed. She leaned over to punch him on the shoulder. That’s because you’re a gambler! Vi told me.
She seems to tell you a lot!
She doesnt; no really, just sometimes, sometimes she talks about what like Wylie was.
Mm.
Cathy smiled. And Stan, hanging about her like a big sheepdog! She gets them so she does!
Hh, thanks a lot.
No I dont mean you, just these Wylies. But Stan’s different anyway, he’s no like his brother at all. In fact he might no even be his brother, he might be his cousin or something.
After a moment Tammas said, How d’you mean? did Vi say that?
No, I just think it myself.
He nodded.
You never know what Vi’s thinking anyway. Even what she tells you. And it’s like trying to get blood out a stone. Honest, if you’ve ever got a secret go and tell her because she’ll never let it out.
Mm. Cathy. . he dragged on the cigarette before asking, What did you mean when you said she has to keep on that guy Stan’s right side?
No I just meant that in case he told him where she is, Wylie I mean.
In case Stan told Wylie?
Yeh.
D’you think he would?
I dont know, I dont think so, he doesnt seem like that. You’ve met him but what do you think?
Hh, I dont know. . Tammas had been resting back on the settee; now he leaned forwards, his elbows on his knees, gazing into the electric fire.
Cathy stood up from the armchair. I’ll no be long, she said, walking to the door and leaving, shutting it behind herself. Tammas glanced at his watch. There was a stack of magazines on the shelf beneath the glass top of the coffee table and he lifted a few out. They were mainly for women and he leafed through them quickly, pausing to read a couple of pages with letters on personal problems. Then he discovered one which had an article on the wives and girlfriends of National Hunt jockeys. He was still reading it when Cathy came back in. They’re both sound asleep, she said as she closed the door. She had changed out of the jeans and jersey and now had on a skirt and a sort of blouse. She shrugged: When you’re stuck in the house all day you just end up wearing anything. I feel as if I’ve been living in these jeans!
He nodded.
It’s this weather; you feel as if it’s going to last forever.
Ach it’ll be spring soon now Cathy, and you’ll be out and about. There’s that big park up the road.
Mm. . She glanced at her mug of coffee and lifting it to show him she said, Cold as usual look! She walked to the sink and refilled the electric kettle: Want another yin?
Eh. .
I’m making it for myself.
Okay, he smiled, passed her his mug.
Those presents you got Vi and Kirsty at Christmas, they were lovely so they were.
Ah!
No, honest, and that bracelet!
Hh — she never wears it!
Because she’s scared of losing it; she’s accident prone — or so she says. It must’ve cost a fortune though!
Och!
Cathy left the sink, returning to the armchair; but after a moment she got up and picked the cushion off, putting it on the carpet, and sitting down there, arranging the cushion between her back and the front of the chair. She sighed, kicking off her shoes. It’s good to relax at times.
Aye.
With the kids you dont always get the chance.
He nodded. When the kettle of water began boiling he rose: I’ll do it. . D’you take sugar?
No just milk.
She had already put the coffee into the mugs and he poured on the boiling water, the milk; the sugar into his own. Then he handed hers down, carefully, leaning over the top of the settee. As he sat back on the settee with his own mug he said, Were you wearing that skirt at the New Year?
The skirt?
Aye, I seem to remember it.
No. Cathy smiled. I wore a dress. She looked at her skirt and smoothed it out. I’ve had this yin for ages.
I thought you were wearing it.
No, definitely, I wasnt. I know the dress I was wearing, it’s one I dont wear very often.
Mm.
I keep it for best really.
Aw aye. Tammas grinned, And you didnt even end up getting drunk either eh!
I didnt, no.
Ah you let me down — Hogmanay!
Hogmanay, yeh, and you let me down!
Tammas smiled then added: How d’you mean? let you down?
Well, you said you were going to come back!
O aye — and I would’ve!
No you wouldnt’ve!
I would’ve, honest!
Cathy laughed.
Tammas nodded. If I hadnt’ve found Milly’s place. Honest, honest Cathy, I would’ve.
You wouldnt even take a drink!
What!
Well you wouldnt! I offered you one and you wouldnt take it.
Naw, because I didnt want to get involved in the company. You know how it is.
Cathy looked at him. I’ll believe you this time!
Well it’s true. He grinned: And you were calling me Thomas.
I thought that was your name though.
Did you. .
Yeh.
Honest?
Yeh, of course, what d’you think?
I dont know what to think!
Cathy frowned then grinned.
Tammas laughed and lifted his coffee from the table. Cathy lifted hers from the floor. She shivered suddenly, replaced the mug where it had been; she stretched forwards a little, to put her hands closer to the fire, and she switched on the other electric bar.
It’ll be too hot, he said.
Cathy shook her head. This place is always freezing. I had the two bars on just before you came in. And sometimes I put the oven on as well.
Christ!
It’s damp, the whole building. That’s how I go about looking like a tramp all the time, it’s to keep warm.
He nodded.
After a moment she asked, D’you no feel it cold?
Naw, no really.
Well, men dont get as cold as women.
He looked at her.
It’s true.
What!
That’s how little you know.
Hh! He chuckled.
Honest Tammas I’m no kidding, feel my hand! She moved to kneel, putting forwards her hand and he took it in his and held it for a few seconds, gazing at the fireplace. She asked, Well?
He nodded.
She gave him her other hand and he took it, and she withdrew the first. And eventually she asked, Well?
Aye, hh. He opened his hand and she withdrew hers, placing it on the edge of the settee, balancing herself; then she rested back the way, sitting on her heels. He reached forwards to her and said, Give us your hand again. . just till I see. .
When he took her hand this time he cupped both of his round it. She stared at it. He looked at her but she continued to stare at her hand inside his two. Then he opened them and she withdrew it again, and she sat back against the armchair once more. He picked his cigarettes up from the coffee table, lighted one.
Vi’s started again. Smoking I mean.
Has she?
Cathy nodded, shifting her position a little, stretching to hold her hands to the fire. Even more now than she used to. . or so she says.
Hh.
Cathy was gazing into the electric fire, and without taking her gaze from it she asked, Can I make you a sandwich?
He cleared his throat. Naw it’s okay.
Sure?
He nodded. He glanced at his wristwatch: Actually I better be going.
Are you sure you dont want something?
Honest, I had quite a big dinner — a pub lunch; soup and all that.
It wouldnt be any trouble.
Naw, thanks but. He drank a mouthful of coffee and then collected the cigarettes and matches and got to his feet.
Cathy also stood up. D’you want me to give her a message?
Naw eh. .
Just tell her you were here like?
Aye, that’ll be fine, ta.
It’s no bother. .
Out in the lobby he paused as she opened the front door and stood aside for him. And remember, she said, if you come up and she’s no in again just knock the door and you can always come in and wait.
Thanks.
It’s no bother. I’m nearly always in.
Thanks. . He nodded. Cheerio then.
Cheerio. Cathy shut the door immediately.
•••
The wad amounted to £40 of which £10 was to play about with forecasts as well as pay expenses; the other thirty was for the nap. He arrived in plenty of time for the first race. The nap would not be running until the third. While the dogs were being paraded he wandered around, glancing at the Adviser and the tips in the Evening Times. Most of the runners in the first were returning after lengthy absences and their fitness had to be taken on trust. He laid a small bet on the tote for a forecast, choosing the two dogs he expected to be the biggest outsiders. He placed a similar sort of bet on the second race. A couple of minutes before the off on the third he finished the export he had been drinking and strolled out of the bar and along to the betting enclosure. The bookies were making his nap a 4 to 1 chance and he moved up immediately, gripping the wad as he went, and bringing it out and passing it up to the bookie: Four thirties the bottom, he said quietly. And the bookie had taken it without returning him a betting-ticket and repeated the bet to his scribbler while dropping the notes into the big money bag, and he said, Down to Tam. He turned and glanced along the row, rubbed out the chalked 4/1, leaving the space blank. But shortly before heading up the Stand Tammas saw the guy chalking the 4/1 back in again.
He read the Adviser while climbing the steps. He had napped the dog the previous night and reading today’s newspapers had only strengthened his conviction. It was running from trap 5 and going from its best handicap in weeks; but even more importantly, there was a 3 yard gap between it and the 4 dog. 4 dog was much the faster out of the boxes and would be up with 5 at the 1st bend, but getting this 3 yard start meant 5 would have started racing by that time, and if it managed to keep 4 off round the 1st bend then it had a great chance of maintaining its head in front till the winning post. Anyway, dog 4 was not the real danger. The real danger was the 2 dog. If there was any trouble in running at all then this one’s chance was outstanding. But they were making dog 4 the favourite, in the belief it would lead the 1st bend.
The wee man with the spectacles was standing below him, puffing on a roll-up, listening to a guy beside him while studying the Adviser. Tammas reached to tap him on the shoulder: What’s the dangers Shuggie?
The bottom.
I’ve backed it, said Tammas.
Have you Tam aye it’s the worry, the worry.
D’you no fancy 2?
Aye — strong! Fucking flying machine Tam, if it gets the luck — see it on Tuesday night! Fuck sake! it walks out the boxes and it’s beat a short head! Fucking hell! I couldnt believe my eyes! No kidding ye!
Have you bet it yourself?
Nah I’m on the 4 Tam, if it beats 5 round the 1st it’s a fucking stonewall.
Tammas nodded, stepping back up, taking the Adviser back out of his pocket for another look. But the lights had dimmed and the hooter was sounding and Tammas was rapidly extracting a cigarette from the packet and getting it alight and exhaling as the traps opened and 5 had missed the break. Somebody nearby cried: 5’s fucked!
But Tammas roared: You’re still a good thing 5! On ye goooooo. . Eeeassayyyy, eeeaaasssayyyy the 5 — ah bastard! look at 2, look at 2, 2’s a fucking. . ah! bastard! bastard. . Tammas nodded.
Below him Shuggie was shaking his head and turning to exclaim: I thought you were a fucking certainty there Tam! The way 5 shook off the 4 coming round the 1st — I mean that 4! Fucking favourite! He’s shot the boxes and still got beat! Hh! Fucking hell! I’m sick backing the bastard — owes me a fucking fortune so it does!
Aye.
And that 2 dog too d’you see the way it finished? Eh? Fuck! No kidding ye Tam that’s a fucking flying machine so it is.
Tammas nodded. After a moment he stuck the Adviser into the inside pocket of his jacket and started walking down the steps.
As he crossed out through the parking area he chipped away his cigarette, checked the change he had in his trouser pocket, before heading along and up towards Bridgeton Cross.
•••
An old woman walked past him, round the corner and along to the grocer’s shop, and when she came back she stared at him. This was the second time she had been out to the shop since he had been standing there, almost half an hour. It was after 6 p.m. and Vi was late. When a bus stopped to let off passengers at the stop nearby he was unable to see who was there until after it had moved away. And when Vi appeared at last he hurried out of view, dashing through the next close and across the backcourt and into the close next to her own. He keeked out, seeing her turning the corner, carrying the big cardboard box, the top of a cornflakes packet showing. He waited until she was passing the close and he stepped out immediately behind her, going on her outside. Hullo, he said.
Tammas! She stopped walking. What you doing here?
Eh. . he sniffed and put his hand to her elbow. Can I carry your messages?
No, it’s alright, I can manage. She frowned: What you doing here?
Nothing. I was wanting to see you again.
You must be winning then. Or losing. . I can never work it out. . Vi started walking away and he walked after her.
You sure I cant help with the box?
I can manage.
It looks heavy.
That’s because it is heavy. She stopped just inside her close and she frowned again. I’m just going up the stair Tammas I’m in a bit of a rush.
I was wanting to see you.
What about?
Can I no come up, and tell you inside?
No.
Aw, hh. He nodded.
I’m in a rush. I’ve got to get Kirsty fed and then take her over to my mother’s.
Mm.
Vi had been standing side on to him; now she turned a little to look straight at him. You were up yesterday. Did you no know I would be at my work?
Ah I just took a notion, just in the off chance. . He sniffed, gestured at the box of messages: Let us hold it for you a minute Vi.
I’m going up the stair.
Aye but I want to see you.
What about?
A couple of things. I’ll no keep you back.
You’ll no keep me anything Tammas I just dont have the time, I’ve got to get ready and I’ve got to get Kirsty fed and everything. Honest I really dont have the time.
He smiled. What’re you going out with somebody?
Yes.
Aw. He looked at her.
I’m going out with Stan. And I dont know why I’m even bothering to tell you. Look, I’ve got to go up and get ready.
I thought you didnt like going out with him?
I’m no even going to answer that.
Cathy says he fancies you.
Well Cathy’s got no right saying that cause she doesnt bloody know!
He continued to gaze at her for a moment, then took out his cigarettes, offered her one which she declined, and lighted one for himself. You still off the smoking? he asked.
Is it anything special you want to see me about?
I’m going up to Peterhead.
What?
Peterhead, I’m going up to Peterhead, to work.
O.
He nodded, gazing at her. Eventually she changed her stance, adjusting the cardboard box, and he moved to her. Eh Vi let us hold it a minute. .
What’re you going to work at?
It’s a guy I know that’s fixing me up, he’s a spark — an electrician — he’s going to get me in labouring to him. He glanced along the close in the direction of the staircase; a door had opened and banged shut somewhere above. Eh Vi can I tell you up in the house?
She made no answer. A person was coming down the stairs, a woman; she came walking through, head bowed, muttering, Hullo Violet.
Hullo.
When the woman had gone Tammas pointed at the cardboard box but Vi shook her head, leant her shoulder against the wall, readjusting the weight distribution. And she said, When you coming back?
I dont know. No that long I dont think — it depends.
She nodded; and sighed.
If it’s rubbish I’ll no stay.
Is it the North Sea?
Naw, it’s just a building site — a big yin right enough. I’m no sure what it’s for.
Maybe it’s another prison.
Hh.
And do you want to go?
He shrugged.
Is the money good?
Supposed to be, aye. He sniffed. D’you have to meet Stan?
He’s expecting me.
Could you no phone him or something?
No, no really.
Aw. . he moved a step to her, put his hand up to her face, curved onto her cheek; when she looked at him he bent to kiss her on the lips. Soon she broke from him.
O Tammas. She closed her eyelids, shaking her head slightly.
He glanced away, inhaled on the cigarette.
When is it you’re leaving?
I’m no sure. Soon.
How soon?
I dont know — just depends. The guy. . He glanced at her: What time’ll you be back at? The night I mean.
Vi did not respond for a while, then she sighed and looked out the close
I could come back later.
No.
Hh; Vi. . He shook his head and he moved to her again, putting his right arm round her shoulder, standing side on to her, and then leaning to put his cheek to hers. She made no movement, still looking in the direction of the street. You smell great. . he whispered.
Vi began to say something but did not.
Have you got to go out with him?
She nodded.
Could you no phone him?
No.
You sure?
Honest Tammas.
Okay. He raised the cigarette to his mouth and dragged deeply, and as he exhaled he moved away from her. She shifted the weight of her body onto the other foot, adjusting the cardboard box in her arms. And she said, I better go up.
What about the morrow night then?
Okay.
Okay?
Aye.
Hh. He grinned. The morrow night?
Okay, She nodded, smiling.
The morrow night? It’s a Saturday remember!
Aye, okay.
Hh. He grinned, shaking his head.
What time?
What time? Eh. .
I’ll be home about sevenish.
Sevenish?
Aye, we’re always later on Saturdays. You could just come up then, say about half past.
Aye Christ.
She smiled as she walked past him and he watched her to the foot of the stairs where she half turned to smile again.
•••
He went into the cafe on the way home, buying a sausage supper to take up the stair with him. The lobby was in darkness, no lights showing beneath any of the doors. He switched on the radio and made a pot of tea, ate the sausages and chips off the greaseproof paper wrapping, the Evening Times spread out on the table at the sports’ pages. Some dirty crockery and things were on the draining board and he stacked them in the washing-up bowl and boiled water. He was at the sink when the front door opened. It was Margaret and Robert; they went straight along to their bedroom then one of them came out and across to the bathroom. A few minutes later Robert appeared in the doorway, calling: Hullo.
Hullo. . Tammas glanced round at him, his hands still in the bowl of sudsy water. And when his brother-in-law gave an exaggerated sniff he said, I’ve just finished my tea — chips I had; a sausage supper.
Mm, smell it a mile away. I’ll just see if eh. . Robert nodded, backing out and shutting over the door.
Tammas frowned; he stared at the door, puffing on the cigarette, using two fingers carefully on the tip while withdrawing it from his mouth. He carried on washing the dishes with the cigarette wedged in at the corner of his mouth, screwing his eyebrows upward to avoid the drifting smoke.
The two of them entered together, Robert sitting down at the table and Margaret coming to the sink area and lifting a kettle. Tammas stepped to the side to allow her in to the tap. There’s some tea in the pot, he said. Probably only lukewarm now right enough.
She nodded.
Were yous out?
We went for a meal, called Robert; that new steakhouse place at Charing Cross.
Aw. Any good?
No bad. A wee bit pricey but I thought.
Margaret was standing with the teapot in her hand. Can you let me in to rinse it? she asked.
Sorry. . He lifted the bowl out to make way for her.
Have you ever been in it yourself? called Robert.
Once or twice, aye.
How long’s it been open then?
Eh, I’m no sure. About six month maybe.
Robert nodded; and while Tammas moved to return the bowl his attention was attracted to the Evening Times. Tammas said, I think there’s no a bad picture coming on. . He had his hands back in the bowl now then he lifted over a dirty pot and dipped it in, reached for a brillo pad.
No, said Margaret, it’s non-stick, you’ll just scratch it.
Aw aye, sorry.
You’re best just filling it with water and leaving it to soak — it’s the porridge one anyway isnt it?
Aye.
Well just leave it to soak.
Okay. He puffed on the cigarette and some ash fell into the water. There was another pot on the draining board with the remains of scrambled egg on its inside. He dried his right hand on the teatowel and took the cigarette out his mouth, inhaled and exhaled, tapping ash into the rubbish bin. Then he filled the other pot with water and muttered, I’ll just leave this yin to soak as well I think.
Margaret and Robert had been exchanging looks. And it was Robert who said, Aye eh could you sit down for a minute Tammas, me and Margaret, we were wanting a word with you.
Aw aye.
It’s nothing bad.
Tammas sniffed. Margaret was looking at him. He nodded, but continued to stand there, the small of his back leaning against the sink. Shifting his weight onto his right foot he folded his arms. Robert said, D’you mind if I turn the radio down a bit?
Naw — turn it off all the gether if you like.
You sure?
Tammas shrugged. He had a last couple of puffs on the fag before dousing it in the sink and sticking it into the rubbish bin. The kettle of water began boiling; he filled the teapot. Margaret said, Tammas. . and then stopped.
Robert glanced at her.
Tammas asked, Is it to do with the job? I mean because I chucked it and that?
Well. . Margaret sighed. It’s no really only to do with that Tammas.
Cause it was really terrible you know I mean God sake, hh, terrible. You’d have to be crazy to work at it, that rolling machine — terrible!
Robert shrugged.
Naw Robert I’m no kidding ye.
Aye fair enough I’m no saying anything, except maybe if once you’d get used to it and that.
I would never’ve got used to it.
Robert shrugged again.
But what about Billy’s dad? Margaret asked. Is it no a showing up for him after getting you in like that?
Well Margaret he never really got me in so much as well just the form and that I mean so I could fill it in.
She nodded.
It’ll no really matter.
Are you sure?
Aye. Billy’s da’s a good auld guy; he doesnt really bother about things.
After a moment Robert shook his head and smiled briefly. Aye but Tammas that’s no the way to look at it. I mean you dont look at it like that — his da’s a good auld guy and so you dont bother — I mean if anything that’s more of a reason for sticking the bloody job, no chucking it.
Margaret was nodding.
No think so yourself?
Eh, aye, to some extent, probably.
Surely it’s more than to some extent? said Margaret.
Tammas sniffed.
Eh? is it no more than to some extent?
What do you want me to get my foot burnt off for the sake of Billy’s auld man?
There’s no need to be cheeky about it Tammas.
Och I’m no being cheeky Margaret, it’s just — God sake. . He turned and faced the window above the sink.
It’s you she’s thinking about, said Robert.
Tammas nodded. He turned back again: Actually I didnt really want the job in the first place. I dont really want to work in factories any more.
Hh! Robert grunted, I doubt if you’re going to have any say in the matter the way things’re going!
Tammas shut his eyelids; then he glanced about for his cigarettes and matches, collected them from the table. Margaret sighed and said, We just want to know you’re going to be alright.
Alright?
Well, God, Tammas, we dont know anything really, not about what you’re doing — just suddenly you’ve got piles of money and we dont see hide nor hair of you for days.
What?
You know what I’m talking about.
I dont.
Tch Tammas, you paid all what you owed and then gave us a month’s rent in advance!
He shrugged.
Well it’s a lot of money.
It’s no that much.
Yes it is, it is.
Margaret, God sake, I just won a few quid on the horses.
Hh! Robert grinned.
Margaret was shaking her head. It’s just too much, she was saying, it’s just too much.
Too much? what d’you mean?
It’s too much, the money, to win on the horses.
Tch Margaret, for goodness sake.
Well it is.
Naw it’s no.
It is.
It isnt but, honest — Robert! Tammas gestured at him.
What?
Naw I mean just, will you tell her?
Tell her?
Naw just Christ the money and that, the horses, if she thinks I’m thieving or something.
She doesnt think you’re bloody thieving! Dont be daft.
Well, Christ. . Tammas had blushed; he inhaled deeply on the cigarette, flicked the grey ash into the sink. He glanced at his sister. Honest, I just won the money on the horses.
Tammas. . Margaret shook her head, stared at the floor.
I’m sorry.
I’m no wanting you to be sorry.
Well what? Hh, I dont know.
Robert frowned at him.
I’m sorry I mean I’m no being cheeky I just dont know, I dont know what I’m supposed to do, I mean, what I should be saying and that.
Look Tammas all your sister’s wanting to know is you’re going to be okay. That’s all; she’s just bloody worried cause of the way things are going. Let’s face it, they’re no going that good. You cant deny that.
Tammas shrugged.
You chucked your job on the first day; you never gave it a chance. It’ll get kept against you. It’ll be down in black and white.
Mm.
It will but Tammas that’s what bloody happens I mean we just want to know you’re going to be okay. And I’m talking about the future.
I’ll be fine. He glanced at Margaret: Honest, I’ll be fine. I’ve got a girlfriend by the way.
God Tammas we know you’ve got a girlfriend.
Aye well. . sometimes that’s how I’m away.
Margaret nodded. It’s good you’ve got a girlfriend; we’re no saying anything about that.
Mm.
But in some ways that just adds to it Tammas. Cause how’re you going to live? That’s how I end up getting worried. You’re my wee brother ye know!
Tch Margaret, God sake.
Well, you are!
He dragged on the cigarette, turning to face the window as he blew out the smoke. It was dark outside, light glinting on the wet roof opposite. He dragged on the cigarette again, started gnawing at the edge of his right thumbnail.
It’s a big world out there you know!
It was Margaret had spoken. She was smiling. Tammas smiled back at her, and he added: To be honest, I’m going to be going away quite soon.
Are you?
Aye. He shrugged.
Margaret was gazing at him.
Robert glanced at her before asking, Whereabouts?
Eh, Peterhead probably.
Probably?
Tammas nodded. He lifted the teapot, put it back down again. I’ve been considering going to England as well — Manchester.
Manchester? said Margaret.
Aye.
What for?
To work. That’s where John is. He’s been trying to get me and Billy to go and stay with him. There’s bags of jobs down there he says. Mainly factories right enough. That’s how I’d rather go to Peterhead, because of the actual job. Getting into the building game I mean I’d really like to get into it. You make good money and then you can move about as well. Plus cause you’re up there you might hear about the North Sea.
Are you talking about the rigs? said Robert — cause if you are you’re talking about really hard graft. Really hard graft. Aye and the conditions arent that good either!
Tammas nodded, he cleared his throat.
It’s no all it’s cracked up to be, that’s all I’m saying.
Are you just going to go yourself? asked Margaret.
Eh, naw I’ll probably be going with somebody. No mind? I was telling you a wee while ago — a guy called McCann.
O. Is he working?
What do you mean just now?
Margaret nodded.
Naw, he’s been on the broo a few months. That’s how he’s looking for a job. He’s an electrician.
Mm, I see.
Robert said, What’s his name again?
McCann; I’m no sure if you know him. He drinks in Simpson’s.
I might’ve seen him around.
Probably have.
Robert nodded.
Tammas inhaled on the cigarette, tapped the grey ash into the rubbish bin, and he said, I think I’ll go ben the room. . Okay?
Margaret shrugged after a moment.
•••
He had waited until past midnight before leaving the house and he left without bidding Goodnight; his sister and brother-in-law had been watching a picture on television.
Although the rain had stopped the street was wet, quite a few puddles on the pavement. At the corner he bought a Daily Record from a paperboy and he got a taxi in less than five minutes. When he arrived down the lane the door of the club opened and two guys came out. They seemed a bit drunk and were talking back to Deefy. But Deefy was not paying much attention. He spotted Tammas and called: How’s it going son?
No bad Deefy, no bad — how’s yourself?
Deefy shrugged, pursed his lips. He stared after the two till they reached the end of the lane, before replying. Fucking horses! He stepped back inside the doorway, staying there until Tammas had entered. . See the results the day!
Naw, I never had a bet.
You never had a bet?
Naw.
Wise man — fucking murder! He followed Tammas along the corridor and into the snacks’ room. It was quite busy, a few men but mainly women. Deefy had paused to speak to an old fellow Tammas recognised as a newspaper vendor who had a pitch near Queen Street Station. He carried on, straight through into the gaming room. It was busy here also and he could see Joe standing over by the corner of the horseshoe table, on the fringes of the spectators; he was smoking a cigar. There was a man beside him and whispering something to him. Joe’s head was lowered as he listened, one hand in his overcoat pocket, the other holding the cigar behind his back. It seemed as if nobody else was talking in the entire room.
Tammas waited a short period. He crossed the floor to the corner opposite where Joe was; and he nodded to him but Joe appeared not to notice. There were no cards out on the table. They were all in the shoe. And the dealer was sitting back on his chair, arms folded, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. He had on a waistcoat which was unbuttoned and his braces were showing, old fashioned ones that functioned with buttons instead of clips. His two workers were both sitting with their hands clasped on the table and not looking anywhere in particular. Eventually the dealer yawned and said: I’ll wait here all fucking night.
Nobody answered.
The dealer was gazing at the ceiling when he had spoken, but now he unfolded his arms and took the cigarette from his mouth, inhaling as he did so. He looked round the room and sighed, and he put the cigarette back into his mouth and clasped and unclasped his hands; he looked at a man sitting amongst the players and said: See Jimmy I know it was you.
It wasnt me Jake.
Jimmy. It was you. I fucking know it was you.
It wasnt.
The dealer sniffed and muttered, It fucking was you.
Honest Jake it wasnt.
The dealer shook his head and he sighed, and he clasped his hands and stared straight at the man. The two boys had their money out on the fucking table, he said. And they had a fucking tenner. Next thing it was a fiver. And it was you that fucking took it.
It wasnt me at all.
It fucking was Jimmy.
It wasnt but honest, honest Jake.
I dont believe you. I just dont believe you — they werent that fucking drunk! The dealer continued to sit looking in the direction of the man. And the silence continued for several seconds. Eventually he said, I think you should just go home out the road Jimmy.
But I never fucking took the money.
Course you fucking took the money! The dealer smiled and sat back on the chair again. He folded his arms and glanced at the worker to his right. Then he sniffed and took the fag from his mouth and he jerked his thumb at the door into the snacks’ room. Jimmy, he said, fuck off.
The man cleared his throat as though about to reply.
Okay? Just fuck off. . The dealer turned his head away, his eyelids flickering shut. He dragged deeply on the cigarette, gazing vaguely in the direction of where Tammas was standing.
Suddenly the man stood up from his seat and the guys behind stepped out of his path as he strode to the exit, staring straight ahead.
Somebody strolled to close the door behind him. A moment passed, then several conversations broke out. The dealer was muttering to the worker on his right: It fucking sickens me when that happens but I’m no kidding ye, it just fucking sickens me.
Should’ve his fucking hands cut off.
The dealer nodded, reaching to the shoe; and he began lifting out all the cards. Here, he said, shuffle them for a new deck. . He glanced towards the punters and asked, Where’s the bank got to? I’ve bloody forgot with all this carry on.
There was some laughter. Eventually it was sorted out. The two workers were still shuffling the cards and different conversations continued. Across the other side from Tammas Joe was moving away and he and the man with him walked to the door. Tammas stepped out from the row of spectators and gave him a wave. Joe grinned. How you doing Tammas?
No bad, yourself?
No complaints. . he introduced the other man as Eric. We’re just heading up the Royal, he said, this place gets too noisy sometimes.
Eric grimaced, shaking his head.
Tammas smiled.
Come with us if you want.
Nah it’s okay Joe thanks.
Naw, come on, you’re alright.
Ah well okay.
Be a game of poker later on. . Joe held the door open for him and as they walked behind Deefy to the exit he asked, Still seeing wee Vi?
Aye.
Joe glanced at Eric: He’s winching wee Vi Wylie.
Is he? Eric peered at Tammas and said: Are you?
Well no really winching I mean we’re. . he sniffed. We’re seeing each other right enough.
Nice wee lassie.
Tammas nodded.
No out with her the night? said Joe.
Naw.
Course she’s got that wee wean to look after.
Aye.
Tricky and that for babysitters? asked Eric.
No too bad.
Eric nodded. Deefy was holding the outside door open for them and the trio exchanged Goodnights with him.
The Royal was also busy. In the coffee lounge Tammas ordered an omelette and chips. Joe and the other guy had coffee and they sat drinking it with him while he waited. When the woman appeared with it from the kitchen he got up and so did the other two. See you when you come ben, said Joe. He and Eric walked to the door through into the casino but then he turned back alone and he said quietly, Hey Tammas you okay for the poker?
Aye.
About cash I mean. Sometimes on a Friday they make it a fifty sit in.
A fifty! Christ, I thought it was just twenty.
Sometimes, aye. It depends. Not if there’s money about.
Tammas shrugged.
Wee Vi’d give me a doing if she thought I was leading you astray! Joe grinned, speaking quietly.
D’you think it’ll be fifty the night like?
Could be. And it’s stud they play. No quarter!
Tammas looked at him. The woman was returning him his change: Just keep it, he said, lifting his plate and reaching for a knife and fork. He glanced sideways. I’m alright Joe.
Fair enough, aye. Joe tapped him on the shoulder, turned to leave.
Eh Joe. . Tammas paused with the plate and cutlery in his hands. That guy Stan’s no in the night is he?
Stan? Naw — no Stan; he never comes — no unless the women are here or something.
Aw.
How? D’you want to see him?
Naw.
Joe nodded. He was looking at Tammas: Okay?
Aye, Christ, fine.
Stan’s alright.
Aye.
A nice big guy. Joe grinned: You dont worry about him do ye!
Naw.
Good. Okay. . Joe patted him on the shoulder before leaving.
He took his time in eating the omelette and chips, gazing at the following evening’s dog card at Shawfield. There was one going he fancied quite strongly. He had backed it last time out and it had just failed to get up on the line. Now it was getting an extra yard in the handicap and had to have a chance. He put a tick against it with his pen, then ate the last couple of chips, finished off the coffee, strolled through to the gaming section.
He had £52 of a wad, enough to play poker and just about be comfortable with, but not much more than that. But there was no point trying to improve it on the tables. That was how it got frittered away, the quick route to going skint. According to Joe the only game worth playing was chemmy — except for poker. And all you had to do was look at the kind of folk playing here in comparison to those back at the club. There was money but not much else. Real punters like Deefy and them would hardly watch roulette never mind play it. Tammas had never seen Joe gambling at any of the tables, just occasionally standing by one while talking to somebody. And it was very seldom he ever went near at all when Milly was playing. She always played roulette, nearly always at the same table, and she tried to sit next to the wheel. There were two women sitting at her usual place just now. Tammas recognised them vaguely. Both were wearing long dresses of a style similar to the one Rena’s best maid had worn at the wedding, the dresses stopping short at the top of the breasts so that the cleavage was quite easy to see. When Vi was in with Milly what she did was stick to the even money bets. And occasionally she won, and would stop while ahead. There was a Chinese guy on the opposite side of the table. He was betting after the same sort of method. He had a card and he was marking in numbers, he was in the midst of a winning sequence. The 19–36 he was gambling. Tammas watched him win four times in succession and on each occasion his bet was six £5 chips. The sequence ended when number 11 appeared. And he did not bet in the next, nor the next. Tammas lighted a cigarette. The two women were using the individually coloured chips, spreading them about on single numbers. That was the way Milly gambled. They were not talking to each other while they were doing it. One of them seemed to be winning a lot. The Chinese guy was now making a bet — the odd column, again for the six £5s. The metal ball was spinning and some latecomers were putting down bets quickly and methodically. Number 33: and the Chinese guy was a winner. So too the woman who seemed to be winning a lot. The croupier stacked out the chips for her and then for him. He lifted six and left six, and lighted a plain cigarette. There was a brief pause. Then the croupier was whirling off the wheel with his left hand while flicking the ball in with his right, and leaning back a little, listening to something being whispered by another of the casino employees. And again people were stretching to make their bets and Tammas also was leaning forwards and he dropped £50 down onto the black bed, and stepped back, folding his arms and holding the cigarette to his mouth with his left hand. The croupier glanced at him then exchanged the notes for ten £5 chips, stuffing them through a slot to the side of the wheel; and the smooth whirr of the ball spinning was becoming a rattling noise and the croupier called, No more bets. The ball settled into a red number. It was also an odd number and the Chinese guy was a winner. Tammas nodded slightly, inhaled on the cigarette. And he waited there until the ball was spinning once again.
Eric was across at the craps table, leaning his elbows on the rim of it, totally engrossed in the play. Joe was nowhere to be seen.
On his way out Tammas stopped and went into the coffee lounge. A man was sitting at the table he had been at before and was reading the Daily Record. Tammas said, That’s mine — I just left it there.
The man shrugged, he closed it over and passed it up.
I’ve no finished reading it myself. . Tammas sniffed. He rolled it up while heading to the exit.
•••
If I was drawing you, he said, moving his right forefinger down over the bridge of her nose and her lips, and down and along the line of her shoulder to the top of her arm; he tugged the blankets down a little, continuing the line round the curve of her left breast, moving his finger beneath and lifting it slightly, now moving the back of his hand in beneath it and he stared at her until she glanced at him out the corner of her eye. Sometimes eyes look like fish.
O thanks, thanks a lot.
Naw, just from side on like this when you’re looking. . His head was resting on the palm of his left hand, propping himself on the elbow. He withdrew the hand from beneath her breast and she shifted her position a bit, still lying quite straight on her back with her right arm beside him, the hand on his left thigh. He returned his forefinger onto her forehead again, retracing the outline of her profile, this time bringing the tip of his finger round the lines within her left ear.
Watch my nose with your elbow, she muttered and half turned her head, her hand also moving away but it resettled on his thigh again.
He placed his right hand on the other side of the pillow, manoeuvering himself to kiss her on the mouth. Vi, you’re really beautiful. I’m no kidding.
Tch, shut up.
Naw, honest. He moved a little away and stared at her. You are. I’m no kidding.
You’ve said that.
I’ve said that?
She shook her head, smiling, moving to kiss him. It’s alright, I dont mind you telling me I’m beautiful.
Christ Vi. He kissed the tip of her nose, shifting his right leg over her left leg, the knee resting between hers, and she put both her arms round his back, raising herself up into him. Soon he was hard and she lay for him to push entry. He whispered, I really love that feeling. She was looking at him and she nodded; her eyelids opened and closed. He was inside her now and stretching, then he lay taking the weight on his elbows. She was looking at him and he smiled and her eyelids shut, and he started the thrust.
When he had come he remained inside her. She kissed him, pulling him down on top of her and she said, Just lie.
I’ll flatten you.
No you’ll no.
You sure?
She smiled, knocking at his arms until he took the weight off his elbows and settled onto her.
I’m squashing you.
You’re no.
Hh.
I like feeling you.
He smiled and altered the way he was lying just sufficient to face into the hollow of her neck and shoulders, the side of his head resting on the pillow.
Mm.
What is it?
This is nice.
Hh, aye.
And soon she was moving, a sort of circular motion, still with him inside her although still soft. She kept the movement going for a while, until he had become semi hard and able to continue alone, and she shut her eyelids and kissed him on the mouth and he stretched, grinning down at her, now kissing her on the forehead, and her intake of breath when he started thrusting a bit more deeply.
It’s nearly eleven!
What. .
She was reaching across and switching on the bedside lamp. She clambered over him and off the bed onto the floor, and she dressed quickly.
D’you mean in the morning?
It’s no funny. Cathy’ll be wondering if something’s up.
Och naw she’ll no.
She will but you dont know her! Vi was buttoning up her blouse, tucking the hem of it inside her skirt waistband. I’ll need to tell her something. .
Tell her we’re having a marathon!
It’s no funny I’m saying. . Vi had walked to the sink and she turned on the tap. Kirsty as well, she’ll be wondering. And sometimes Cathy’s kids pick on her a wee bit. . She was rubbing her hands on the towel, dropping it onto a dining chair as she passed to the kitchen door. D’you mind getting up?
O aye, sorry.
Naw it’s just. . Vi paused, she smiled. It’s just Kirsty I suppose I just. . She smiled again, shrugging.
Of course — sorry.
Naw, tch! She opened the door and went out.
He got up and put his clothes on. Vi had cooked food for them earlier and all the cutlery and crockery and stuff were still lying about the oven and the sink and on the coffee table beside the settee and armchair. He filled a kettle to start the washing up, and he made himself a cup of coffee. He moved quickly about the place, lifting Kirsty’s toys and putting them in one heap beneath her cot.
The washing up was finished and he had switched on the television by the time she came back. Kirsty was in her arms, thumb in the mouth and eyelids flickering but she stared at Tammas when she saw him.
Vi glanced about at everything and smiled at him. No comment, she said and he grinned and offered her a cigarette. Then she frowned: You could at least have told me I’d forgot to put on my tights!
What?
I forgot to put on my bloody tights! she said, mouthing the last part of the sentence.
Hh.
Aye I know, hh!
He was smiling at her. Want a coffee or tea?
Naw, I had to take one in with Cathy.
Did she say anything?
Naw. But she knew.
She knew?
Vi raised her eyebrows at him and started preparing Kirsty for bed. Aye she knew!
What’re you talking about, knew? Knew what!
Vi looked at him and he laughed.
He peered down at her when she spoke; he had his hands beneath his head on the pillow and she with her head on his chest, lying almost on top of him. About the crisps, she said, that first time we met — what was it you said again?
Pardon?
Vi was grinning. You said something when you dished out the crisps, that first time we met, down at Ayr Races. Remember? You went up and bought a round of drinks for everybody and then dished up a pile of crisps. Vi laughed. And you said something — I dont remember. Just the way you said it but. You should’ve seen Charlie’s face.
How what d’you mean?
I dont know, it was just funny.
What I said?
Well aye, and the way Charlie looked. And he made a face behind your back.
What?
Honest! Vi laughed.
Christ. He had shifted to see her more fully: What kind of face?
It was as if he thought you thought you were somebody, because you’d won the money.
Hh! That’s f — that’s terrible.
Vi chuckled.
Naw, Christ, all I did was buy a round up.
I know but it was the way you did it, and all these crisps!
Christ. Tammas shook his head, and he twisted sideways, leaning out the bed to collect the cigarettes and box of matches from the floor.
It’s okay; it was just funny.
She had her hand on his back as he struck the match, keeping the action outside of the bed, and he blew out the flame while lifting the ashtray to dump in the spent match. He lay higher up on the pillow, his head against the headboard. Who is that guy anyway Vi?
Charlie you mean? I dont know really. He’s married to Ann — she’s a good pal of Milly’s.
So he’s no actually mates with Joe?
I’m no sure. How?
He shrugged.
Maybe he is. What do you want to know for?
Naw I was just wondering.
Vi gazed up at him and indicated the cigarette; and he gave her a drag of it, holding it for her.
I was going to ask you, he said, and he sniffed. . It might sound daft. It was just — see Joe and that? Tammas inhaled on the cigarette; he exhaled and asked, What does he actually do?
Joe?
Aye I mean just how he, I was wondering, how he makes a living and that. .
Och he does different things.
Tammas nodded.
Vi was lying side on to him once more, her left arm on his chest, looking up at him. He just does different things.
What like but I mean?
Vi chuckled.
Naw I was just wondering. . He leaned to flick the ash down into the ashtray on the floor.
I dont know.
You dont know what he does?
No really, no.
Honest?
Aye honest, of course honest! Vi slapped him on the chest.
He smiled, holding onto her wrist.
Well — I’ll bloody honest ye!
Sorry!
You should be and all! She slapped him on the chest again.
Ssshh. . he pointed over to the cot.
And you should be glad anyway, cause he sticks up for you.
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