A Chancer

Joe?

Aye.

Hh.

He says you’re just young! Vi laughed.

Tammas looked at her.

She slapped him on the chest: Milly doesnt think I should be seeing you. She says you’re a chancer.

What?

Vi laughed.

But he shook his head. That’s terrible. Naw, no kidding ye Vi. . He shook his head again.

She was still laughing.

Naw, he said, hh, that’s really terrible. I mean she doesnt even know me Christ, that’s no fair. It’s no.

Vi was smiling.

Naw but. . It’s just no fair.

O come on! dont worry about it — that’s just Milly! Tch! Vi gripped him by the arm; and he leaned to stub the cigarette in the ashtray. She just looks after my interests. She worries about me.

Tammas exhaled the last puff of smoke and sat back.

It was her got me this place you know. And she’s done other things. She’s been good; a good friend.

Fine, I’m no saying anything. . He lay down with his head on the pillow. He slipped his arm under her neck and she rested her head on his chest, turning side on to him; he took her hand in his.

She helped me out when I was in trouble. And I mean trouble! Vi peered up at him and he nodded.

They were silent for a while. Vi’s eyelids were closed. Tammas had been staring across at the sink; now he shifted position slightly and he murmured, I’m no hurting you?

No.

He cupped his hand in below her left breast and raised it a bit. It’s really soft, he said, and yet it’s heavy at the same time.

Mm.

And these wee kind of bumps round the nipple.

Thanks.

Naw Vi, just the way — just the way. . Hh — even your actual skin feels different.

She nodded.

Naw I mean. . He had his left arm round her back and he started smoothing the palm of his hand up and down her side, between her thigh and shoulder blade and eventually she sighed and yawned. He squinted across at the sink, to where the light had changed at the sides of the venetian blind. Dawn’s coming, he said.

Vi smiled, her eyelids shut.

This room’s different from mine, where it’s facing; you’ll get the sun in the morning, I get it in the afternoon. Sometimes I just lie on my bed looking out, keeping the curtains open to see the sunsets, the way the sky goes, although you cant see the stars properly. But here you’ll get good dawns, sunrises.

He began smoothing her skin again, still gazing across.

•••

Kirsty was rattling the frame of the cot. When he stared at her she looked away but continued pulling and pushing at it. It was just after nine o’clock and the shop round the corner would be selling Sunday papers. But his clothes were lying over the back of the settee and it was not possible to get there without being seen by the wee girl. Single-ends were hopeless. She should at least have had a room and kitchen. Plus that heavy smell of dampness at times, especially over at the corner of the room near the sink — in fact the whole window area. Even a good lick of paint might have helped. And getting rid of the striped wallpaper. A fresh gloss on all the woodwork. There were other ways of brightening the place up. The venetian blind for instance, it only stopped the light coming in.

Kirsty was now rattling the cot frame quite loudly and he whispered, Ssh! But she continued doing it and there was a movement from Vi. She was on her side, facing away from him into the recess wall. He turned over and snuggled up onto her, got an erection and backed off. What time is it? she said.

Mummy!

Shut up Kirsty.

Mummy. And she began rattling the frame even more loudly.

You’re a pest. Shut up.

She’s been awake for ages, whispered Tammas.

She’s a pest.

Kirsty continued rattling the frame till soon Vi sighed and turned, rising halfways up and calling, Shut up. Just shut up. Lie down and read your book.

No.

Just do it when I tell you Kirsty come on now, lie down — eh? Just till Mummy’s ready?

No.

Come on, just for a wee while. . Vi lay back down and Tammas laid his left arm out as she did so; they settled in close together. And he whispered, You could do with an extra room eh?

Mm.

Could you no apply for a council house?

Mm, suppose so.

All you need to do is put your name down, just wait your turn.

Mm.

I mean you’d get a bathroom and that, a separate room for Kirsty.

I know.

Well?

Well what?

You should put your name down.

O, thanks for telling me.

Well you should, you’d get a house sooner or later.

I know I’d get a house sooner or later, God — I know better than you. I mean tch, d’you think I dont know!

He nodded.

God sake Tammas.

He nodded again.

I’m sorry, she said, it’s just — Tammas, I dont want my name down on any lists if I can help it.

Hh.

Naw, I mean it, because of him.

Aw.

That’s how.

Aye. . He was silent for a few moments. But they dont hand out names and addresses to anybody that asks.

Mm.

They dont but, surely.

Vi shrugged. She moved off from his chest, saying: Pass me a fag. . And she tugged the sheet up over her breasts, sitting up a bit, her shoulders against the bedhead.

When they were both smoking he said to her: Is it true he’s going to come after you when he gets out?

Vi was staring at the wall opposite. She shrugged. He said he was.

Tammas nodded.

But he’s got a screw loose, you dont always know.

He held the ashtray out for her to tap in cigarette ash: D’you think he will?

I dont know, he might.

Tammas inhaled on his cigarette and he blew smoke sideways, and turned, about to say something; but Vi said: I dont like talking about him with you.

Ah, sorry.

Naw Tammas, I just dont like talking about him with you, cause it’s you.

He sniffed.

She smiled at him. Okay?

Aye, Christ. He cleared his throat and swallowed, inhaled on the cigarette again. Maybe your best bet’s getting out of Glasgow all the gether.

O to Peterhead I suppose!

He grinned and she laughed. And he cleared his throat again, before saying, Naw, actually I’m being serious.

She smiled, shaking her head.

D’you no fancy it like?

Vi shrugged, puffed out a cloud of smoke and tapped ash onto the ashtray.

There’s big money on this job you know — 12 hour shifts they’re working I mean it wouldnt be long till I was able to bring yous up, the two of yous, you and Kirsty.

Mm.

And you wouldnt need to work.

But I like working.

Okay.

I hate being in the house all the time.

Fine I mean. . he shrugged.

God Tammas Wylie never liked me working either. He always thought men were looking at me. Even before we got married he was wanting me to stay at home in my mother’s — imagine! All day — sitting in the bloody house!

Hh.

God.

I wouldnt mind you working at all.

O thanks, I’m very grateful.

He looked at her.

Naw really, I’m very very grateful.

Christ Vi sometimes you take the needle hell of a quick.

I take the needle!

Well so you do, Christ, sometimes I can hardly get talking.

Aye well no bloody wonder. It’s bad when men expect you to stop work just to suit them.

Okay.

I know it’s okay.

Aye well, sorry.

You dont have to be sorry I’m no asking you to be sorry.

He sniffed and dragged on the cigarette.

I just think it’s out of order, the way men expect that. D’you no agree?

He nodded.

Are you sure?

Aye Christ.

Well you dont seem too bloody convinced!

There was a brief silence. Kirsty called, Mummy!

And Vi looked over towards her and waved: It’s okay pet, I’ll be getting up in a wee minute.

Tammas muttered, Sorry.

Tch, I dont want you being sorry, there’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s just. . och. She shook her head and sighed, and motioned for the ashtray, stubbed out the cigarette. I think it’s time for a coffee, she said.

Aye, I’ll make it.

Or would you rather just have a breakfast?

Eh naw, it’s okay, it’s up to you.

Tch come on, you’re always starving.

I’m no always starving.

Aye you are!

I’m no Christ.

Dont go in the huff.

I’m no going in the huff.

You are.

I’m no. He inhaled on the cigarette; and he glanced at her while exhaling. I’m no.

She nodded.

D’you still feel like a coffee?

Aye, thanks.

Aw. Tammas paused. Sorry — you’ll have to do it. . He indicated the cot. I’ve got no clothes on.

Vi frowned.

Naw, honest, if it wasnt for that. Definitely I mean. . he shrugged.

Vi glared and slapped him on the chest. You’re no getting away with that! she said. I’m going to get you your trousers!

Tammas laughed.

Mummy! called Kirsty

It’s okay pet it’s okay, I’m getting up in a wee minute!

Tammas waved to her: It’s okay Kirsty! He stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray and leaned to place it on the floor. And he put his arm round Vi. The two of them lay back down again, her head on his chest. Kirsty was standing up, holding onto the top of the frame and gazing across at them. Tammas winked at her and she frowned, and after a moment she bounced along on the mattress and lifted a toy from the other end. Tammas had increased the pressure of his arm round Vi and she looked up at him. He smiled. And she said, What is it?

Nothing.

Nothing?

Aye, nothing.

Mm. It’s a funny nothing.

He sniffed and shrugged, then suddenly frowned and glanced sideways, he frowned again.

What is it now?

Eh nothing, naw. . Hh. Christ! He grinned and shook his head.

What is it?

Naw, it’s just — I could actually just go myself. To Peterhead I mean.

Mm.

He grinned. I dont actually need anybody to go with Christ I mean I can just bloody go myself.

You’ve said that.

Hh! He chuckled. Ah! He gazed at the ceiling: Ya beauty! Ya beauty! Then he clenched his right fist and began punching the air and grunting: Pow pow pow, pow pow pow.

Both Kirsty and Vi were watching him. Vi was smiling.

Look Vi, would you really consider coming with me? I mean really — once I’d got settled in and that, once I’d got a place?

Would I consider it?

Aye.

She nodded.

You would consider it?

Aye, okay.

Honest?

Honest — aye, okay.

Christ.

I’m just saying I’d consider it but Tammas, that’s all I’m saying, I would consider it.

Aye, Christ. . he grinned and kissed her on the forehead.

•••

£65 was left in the bank account. He withdrew twenty one of it and stopped in at the newsagent to buy 20 cigarettes; there was a spare Sporting Life on the counter. When he returned upstairs Robert was still in the house, sitting reading a book in the living room. Tammas made a pot of tea and took him ben a cupful. Thanks, he said, barely glancing away from his page.

Tammas nodded. Through in his own room he spread the Life across the bed. He had just lighted a cigarette when Robert could be heard coming out and down the lobby, and chapping the door: Hey Tammas! Can I come in a minute?

Aye.

He remained in the doorway with his hand on the door handle. Naw, he said, just to tell you, that fellow McCann, he was up at the weekend there.

Tammas did not answer.

Saturday it was, just after teatime.

Tammas dragged on the cigarette. He had been lying on his side and now he sat up and swivelled to tap ash into the ashtray on top of the cupboard, facing away from his brother-in-law. And his brother-in-law was yawning and saying, You still thinking in terms of Peterhead?

Aye. Tammas sniffed; he cleared his throat while turning to look at him. Maybe next week; I’m no sure.

Good, good for you; I really think you’re doing the right thing. That’s eh. . I was wanting to say, just that I mean this room and that, it’s yours, if the job maybe doesnt work out, you know, it’s here for you, it’ll be here for you — when you come back and that I mean you knew that anyway I hope.

Aye, thanks.

Well God sake it’s your room! Robert grinned. We’ll no take in any lodgers, it’s alright!

Tammas smiled, he inhaled on the fag and flicked ash over into the ashtray again. Robert was smiling too. Then he glanced at his wristwatch and shook his head: Soon be time soon be time!

Backshift eh!

Aye, tch — I even prefer nightshift! Robert raised his eyebrows and grinned, his hand still on the doorhandle. He indicated the Life: Still punting the horses!

Aye.

By the way! That was a good score for Hull! Three nothing?

Aye, great.

Probably Rab got the hat-trick!

Aye. Tammas smiled, dragged on the cigarette and exhaled, and he said: Even if he was just playing but — in the first team.

Aye. Robert nodded. You’re no kidding. Anyway — see you later eh! He closed over the door, clicking it shut.

Tammas glanced at the door for a moment and then at the window, and to the cupboard. The alarm clock was not going. He wound it up and set it to the time on his watch, and got up and walked to the wardrobe. He opened it, gazed inside and to the bottom, at his boots. The cigarette was in his mouth and he withdrew it without inhaling, drawing the knuckle of his right forefinger across the corners of his mouth. He went to the window, seeing the close opposite where two old men were standing chatting just out from the entrance; one of them with his hand on the other’s elbow, his head tilted, listening; he looked to be laughing. Both of them wearing bunnets and overcoats and the one doing the laughing wearing a tartan scarf. And now a woman appeared from the close, bare arms folded and peering from left to right along the street, the men remarking something to her and her shake of the head, returning back inside.

He sniffed and moved back to the bed, shifted the newspaper, making space to lie stretched fully out, crossing his feet at the ankles, left hand behind his head. Then he raised himself up a bit and got his tea from the top of the cupboard; it was lukewarm and he swallowed it down. He manoeuvered the money out of his pocket, the four £5s. They were crumpled and he smoothed them out and placed them flatly, next to the alarm clock. He got up and returned to the window but then came back again and sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the Life and turned to the results from Saturday. The dog he had napped at Shawfield had won at 2/1. 2/1 was a good price and it would have been worthwhile making the journey for it alone. In that morning’s Daily Record they had forecast 5/1 but Tammas had known it would never have been that — 2/1 was much more like it. Although of course if he had of made the journey it would probably have got beat. Nothing surer. That was the way things happened. There again, he had been skint on Saturday and the bank was shut. That was one of the inconveniences about banks — just like if you needed dough and it was after 3.30 in the afternoon. Or if you had left the bankbook in the house by mistake.

Some ash fell onto the page and as he made to lift it it rolled onto the bedclothes.

Monday was nearly always a bad day for betting; generally speaking the racecards were second-rate efforts — a bit like the opening race at a greyhound meeting, a time for looking on and taking notes, not for getting the money down. But it was still possible to back a winner. He continued studying the form till approaching half past one. He found two horses he fancied quite strongly and a third which had a reasonable chance. But nothing worthy of going nap on. It was probably a day to go to the pictures.

On his way out he made a piece on jam and he ate it while walking downstairs and along the street to the betting shop. He knew the boardman and they exchanged hullos. The boardman was eating a sandwich and drinking tea and he offered Tammas a mouthful. Naw, no thanks. Tammas said, Auld Phil no in the day?

Naw. He was in on Saturday.

Tammas nodded, strolled to a wall to read a formpage. It was from the Sporting Life and he had read it many times already. He was going to stick to the three he had selected upstairs, and back them in 3 x £1 doubles and a £1 treble, and also back the two he fancied strongly in singles. He had £20 and £4 away left £16 — unless he paid tax in advance. Sometimes he did and other times not. It just depended on the dough he had in his pocket, on whether the sum was round or not. And £16 was round; it gave eight on each single, or less, if he wanted to keep a couple of bob for a pint later on. There again, it might have been worthwhile considering doing single bets on all three. That meant £15 would be round, three bets at a fiver each. One thing was sure, if he backed two out the three the only winner would be the third, the one he did not back. Plus of course if he only backed the third the other two would win. That was why it was usually best to get the one, to select the nap and stick to it, and if it lost there was always tomorrow. But none of the three was worthy of the nap. Maybe it was best just doing the doubles and the trebles and leaving the singles alone altogether — do the 3 x £1s and the £1 treble, and just go up the town to the pictures.

The first of the three runners was going in the 1.30 at Wolverhampton, a race for 4 year old novice hurdlers. He moved to a different wall to have a look at the formpage here, it was from the Express and did not give the actual form, only what the tipster had to say about it. But Tammas knew its form inside out anyway and the main thing was that it would win or it would lose. Or it could be placed. There were eight runners and its price was forecast at 6/1. 6/1 represented good each way value. Maybe the best thing was to stick the whole score down as a tenner each way, the safety first bet — and even if it finished third he would still be a winner, he would still be receiving cash in exchange for the betting receipt. Although there again, if he backed it each way the only certainty was that it would finish fourth. Or else win maybe. He was probably best just sticking the lot on as a win. But that was daft because it was not a nap. He did not fancy it as strongly as all that. And yet either it would win or it would lose and even if it did lose he still had £44 in the bank. Which was not a lot. But it had come from nothing and it was a mistake even thinking like that. £44 was fine. Plus he still had the twenty in his pocket. And he was backing three horses. Win lose or draw. He fancied three, and two better than one; and he would back these two as singles as well as in the doubles and treble. And even if they all lost he would still have a few quid in the bank. Although probably he would have the one winner, the one he had not backed singly. But it was not possible to do everything. You had to make your selection and stick to it. There was nothing else you could do. There was nothing else, nothing at all. A mistake to even think like that.

A show of betting came through on the speaker and he turned to watch the boardman mark up the prices. Then the door opened and in came Billy. He stood for a moment before spotting Tammas, then he stepped back a yard and pointed his finger at him, and strode across with his right arm aloft, and slapped him on the shoulder: Ya sneaky bastard ye where’ve you been hiding!

Tammas laughed loudly.

Naw but where the fuck have you been?

Ah skint man, skint — keeping out the road! Hey what’s up you’re no at work.

I chucked it! Honest, I backed a winner and handed in my notice!

Ha ha, said Tammas.

Billy laughed and slapped him on the shoulder again. Hey, by the way, they’re still talking about it in there! Naw — no kidding ye man — they are! They’re fucking wanting me to get your autograph!

Tammas laughed.

Ya cunt ye how did you no wait for me that day? Or else come up and take me out for a pint later on! Eh? Fucking terrible man!

Ah sorry.

Naw no kidding but I mean fuck sake — two hundred quid man and you dont even take your mate for a bevy! I’ve been sitting in the house for a fortnight!

You’re right man sorry, I should’ve.

Fucking think so too! And Christ sake you’re no telling me you’re skint? Fucking two hundred quid!

Sssh. . dont tell every cunt.

Okay. Okay. Billy grinned and went on: So what’re you taking me for a pint or what?

You taking me for one?

Christ — Tammas, you’ve no lost it all back already, eh?

Tammas looked at him. Then he smiled: Come on ya bastard! He took his cigarettes out as he walked to the door and he handed one to him and struck the match. When they were both smoking Billy said, You putting a line on?

Eh naw, I’m no going to bother. Bad race for betting. What about you?

Ah fucking skint man. Serious, I just looked in to see if anybody was here.

Hh! And you found me ya cunt!

Billy laughed and pulled open the door, standing aside to let Tammas exit first. And out on the pavement Tammas started walking in the direction opposite where Simpson’s lay. I’m fucking sick of Simpson’s, he said.

Ach come on! Billy smiled. We’ll get a game of doms. Auld Roper’s in — I saw him fucking limping along ten minutes ago. And McCann’ll be there as well.

Nah I dont fancy it man.

Ye kidding? What’s up?

Fuck all up.

Well come on then!

Look Billy it’s me that’s fucking buying the drink. . Tammas shook his head and turned away, inhaling on the cigarette.

Billy sniffed. He stepped to the edge of the pavement and spat into the gutter. He returned the cigarette to his mouth and put his hands in his jeans’ pockets. Going to tell me something, he said, is this to do with McCann?

McCann?

Is that how you dont want to go into Simpson’s?

Naw, fuck. Naw.

You sure?

Aye Christ — how?

Cause he thinks you’re fucking avoiding him.

What?

Aye I’m no fucking kidding ye man, every time I bump into him, he’s wanting to know if I’ve seen you!

If you’ve seen me?

Aye.

Hh, Christ sake.

Billy dragged on the cigarette and asked, Is it cause of Peterhead?

Peterhead. What d’you mean?

Billy shrugged. I dont know. Just cause you never went. .

Never went! Fuck sake Billy it was me waiting for him, no the other way about. That’s how I ended up taking the start in your auld man’s place. Christ, I was getting sick of fucking hanging around.

Aw thanks!

Naw, sorry man nothing against the job or fuck all.

Billy smiled.

Naw, honest Christ I would’ve stuck it I mean. . Tammas shrugged. It was just cause, ach, I dont know Billy I’m just getting fucking sick of factories, getting stuck inside all day. That’s how Christ, Peterhead and that man I really fancy it — I do. . Tammas had been about to add something but he stopped and moved out the way of a man who was hurrying into the betting shop. And he glanced along the road. Naw, he said, it’s me that fucking wants to go but he keeps saying it’s too soon.

Aye well maybe that’s what it’s about then, maybe it’s time now.

Tammas nodded.

I mean he’s saying he doesnt even see you at the broo whereas yous used to always go the gether.

Hh! Fuck sake. Tammas shook his head: I’m no even getting broo money.

Aye but you’re signing on.

Aye, Christ but I’m no getting fuck all cause of that six week rule about chucking your job.

Aye fair enough but I mean. . Billy shrugged.

I’m no even getting social security money.

Hh; how no?

Dont know man — it’s just no coming through or something.

Mm. Billy nodded. He glanced sideways and sniffed. Where d’you fancy going then? The Inn?

Nah.

Where?

Tammas shrugged. I’m no bothered. If you really want to go to Simpson’s then we’ll fucking go to Simpson’s.

Well I’m no desperate.

Naw but if you want to go we’ll go.

It’s alright.

You sure?

Billy shrugged. It’s your fucking cash.

We’ll go.

I’m no bothering but, honest.

I’m no bothering either. Tammas shrugged. It was just a change; I just felt like a change.

Aye fair enough. Billy stepped aside as another guy came rushing up and into the betting shop, and as the door banged open and shut the voice from the extel speaker was quite audible; the runners for the 1.30 race were coming under orders.

Come on, muttered Tammas, I dont want to hear this commentary.

Billy smiled.

•••

McCann was in. He was sitting at one of the rear tables, not far from the darts’ area. Auld Roper was beside him; also a postman by the name of Freddie; and the three of them were playing dominoes. Tammas paused at the head of the bar to order the drinks but Billy continued on.

A moment later came the cry: Hey Hotfoot!

Tammas ignored it. The cry was repeated. It was Roper who was responsible. And when he arrived at the table with the two pints of heavy the elderly man again cried: Hey Hotfoot!

He laid down the pints and glanced at Billy: Thanks for telling every cunt in Glasgow.

Billy laughed.

Is that how you’ve stopped coming in? cried Roper. You’ve been feart to show your face!

Show his feet’s more like it! The postman laughed and leaned over the table to see down at them. Are they recuperating?

Fucking patter! said Tammas. He rubbed his hands as he sat down on a spare chair.

Aye! Auld Roper pursed his lips and shook his head, he raised his half pint of lager and muttered, The copper works — no an easy job eh!

The postman nodded. I’ve heard that myself.

Billy grinned.

Then McCann was tapping the edge of the table and saying, Are we supposed to be playing fucking dominoes here!

Hh! Roper shook his head: Listen to moaning face.

Aye well I’ve fucking forgotten who’s turn it is there’s been that much fucking yapping!

Me it is. . The postman leaned to study the dominoes already lying on the board.

Tammas swallowed a mouthful of beer and sat back on his chair; he glanced at McCann and lifted his beer again, and he said, How’s it going Brian?

Ah no bad Tammas no bad — yourself?

Aye, okay.

Nice wee turn you had the other week.

Aye.

And kept out of every cunt’s road till he’d spent the money! grunted Auld Roper to the postman.

Ah well you couldnt blame him for that, replied McCann. No with a bunch of begging bastards like you going about!

Hh! Will you listen to who’s talking! Ya cunt ye McCann the next time you buy anybody a drink’ll be the first time. Eh? The elderly man glanced round the table at the others.

Billy grinned: This is getting serious.

You shut up and all, muttered Roper, taking days off your work when half the country cant fucking get any! Eh Freddie? The postman shook his head. Keep me out it, I’m neutral.

Neutral! Hh! Roper reached for his half pint of lager and sipped from it.

After a moment McCann asked, Who’s to fucking go?

Me, said Freddie.

Aw you’re chapping ya cunt give us peace!

How d’you know?

Cause I fucking looked at your hand.

Aw, okay.

Auld Roper sighed and tapped his fingers on the edge of the table Going to get this fucking game moving eh! my rent’s bloody due next week.

Tammas had grinned; he pushed back his chair and stood up swallowing down most of the remainder of his beer. What yous wanting? he asked.

Pardon?

What did he say?

Heh McCann. . Auld Roper frowned: Did you hear that nice boy speaking there? I’m no sure if my ears were open or what?

Ears ya cunt? McCann cried: You’ve got fucking ears like Dumbo the elephant.

Auld Roper burst out laughing. Eventually he had to reach into his coat pocket and extract a big handkerchief and use it to wipe his eyes and blow his nose. The others, including McCann, were also laughing and some of the folk at other tables were looking across and smiling.

Okay then, said Tammas, last orders!

Last orders! The postman grinned.

Once he had got their orders he went to the bar and was joined soon after by Billy who was returning from the lavatory; the two of them carried the drinks back to the table. McCann had been shuffling the dominoes for a new game. And he said, Yous two playing?

Aye. . take some money off yous! Tammas smiled.

Ho! Listen to the boy! Auld Roper shook his head as he reached to pick up his dominoes.

And the game began. When they had been playing a couple of rounds the postman glanced up from the dominoes he was holding and he said to Roper: Heh auld yin, d’you mind of a horse by the name of Hotfoot? Nightingall used to train it.

I mind of the horse, aye, but Nightingall wasnt the trainer.

He was.

He wasnt.

Aye he was. Dunky Keith used to ride it and all.

He never! Geoff Lewis rode it. And Ian Balding fucking trained it.

Tch. . The postman shook his head and he sighed and looked at McCann: D’you mind of it Brian?

Nah do I fuck — I’m no an auld cunt like yous.

Hh, cheeky bastard. . Who’s to go?

You, said Tammas.

Chapping.

We all fucking knew you were chapping! Billy laughed and leaned to play his own domino.

Tammas was next and then McCann. Auld Roper followed, playing his last domino with a flourish. And he chuckled and reached for the empty domino box, upturned it for the five 10 pence coins. Contributions gratefully accepted, he said, contributions gratefully accepted.

Billy grinned. At this rate you’ll be able to buy a round auld yin!

Roper gaped at him, stuck the money into an interior pocket; he peered round at the others and said Who’s got the fags then? Eh McCann — still keeping them under lock and key!

Shut up ya pokling bastard.

Pokling bastard! That’s the last thing I need to do to beat you son!

The postman laughed; he was unwrapping a fresh cigarette packet and he offered them about. Anybody got a light? he said.

Damascus is over there! cried Roper, gesturing over his shoulder.

Aye well I wish you’d catch a fucking train and go! McCann muttered.

I’d go in a fucking minute if I could get away from you! And anyhow McCann. . I thought you and Hotfoot were catching a train up to fucking Peterhead to give us all a rest down here? Eh Billy? Auld Roper winked at him.

Billy smiled.

McCann sniffed and glanced sideways at Tammas, and jerked his finger at the elderly man: Listen to fucking Dumbo!

Naw but I thought you said you were.

What’s it got to do with you?

What’s it got to do with me? I’ll fucking tell you what it’s got to do with me. . Roper lifted his half pint glass of lager and sipped at it, then he put it down and wiped his mouth with the cuff of his overcoat sleeve. I’ll fucking tell you what it’s got to do with me, it means I’ll have to look for a new fucking mate at dominoes!

The postman winked at Billy: This is getting serious eh!

Naw, said Billy, it doesnt get serious till one of them starts buying a fucking round!

The postman laughed.

Auld Roper raised his eyebrows and he glanced at McCann: Eh? did you hear the boy there?

No respect for his elders.

Exactly what I was thinking. That’s this fucking younger generation for you. That’s what happens when you start drawing a pension — every cunt’s out to stick the boot in. Fucking sad so it is.

Aye, said McCann, and I dont see him rushing to buy a drink either!

After a moment Billy replied, I’m skint but.

Well so are we.

Hotfoot’s no, grunted Roper.

I’ll tell you something, said Tammas, this Hotfoot patter’s beginning to annoy me.

O o. Billy glanced at the postman. Now it’s getting serious.

Aye well no fucking wonder, said Tammas. He stood up and swallowed down the last of his beer.

The postman looked up at him: Ah come on son it’s just a bit of fun.

I know it’s a bit of fun but I’m just fucking sick of it. Then he smiled, Plus it’s costing me a whole round every time I want a pint!

Ah well I was just about to buy you one back I mean I’m no fucking. . the postman shrugged. I was going to get you one back son.

Naw I know Freddie, sorry. . I’m no meaning anything. Naw, I just want to go take a walk down the betting shop. Tammas sniffed and glanced at Billy: You coming man?

Eh aye. . Billy had hesitated but now was reaching for his pint and drinking a large mouthful in a gulp, and standing up, taking his jerkin from the back of the chair.

McCann shifted on his seat, and he stared up at Tammas: If I’d had enough fucking money I’d have bought you a drink back as well, dont worry about that.

Tammas nodded. I know.

Aye well dont fucking start that with me then.

Start what? I’m no starting anything.

McCann was staring at him. Then he sniffed. I dont like the way you said that, that’s all. You knew we were fucking skint. No cunt was fucking forcing you to buy us anything.

I know.

Aye well dont fucking start then that’s all I’m saying.

I’m no fucking starting.

I mean ya cunt ye two fucking hundred quid you win and you worry about buying us a pint! Jesus Christ Almighty.

Ssshhh. Auld Roper patted McCann on the wrist.

Well no fucking wonder, that’s fucking out of order!

He’s just a boy, muttered the elderly man.

Ah fuck sake but. . McCann shook his head. There’s no need for that. As if we were reneging on the fucking company man I mean Jesus Christ — eh! McCann sat back round and he glared at Tammas: I mean what’s the fucking score at all eh! starting that kind of fucking patter with me and the auld yin! Eh? Giving us a fucking showing up like that!

I’m no giving yous a showing up.

You fucking are giving us a showing up!

Billy was now onto his feet, his hands held palms upwards and saying: Come on Brian eh? come on. .

Naw fuck sake Billy! McCann waved him away. That’s fucking out of order!

Okay. Tammas said, I’m sorry.

You’re sorry.

Aye, I’m sorry. I’ve bought yous a drink as usual but I’m fucking sorry.

McCann bounced up onto the floor and grabbed Tammas by the neck and marched him backwards about four yards and he yelled: Ya wee fucking bastard ye ya wee fucking bastard I’ll fucking murder ye man here and now, I’ll fucking murder ye.

Tammas was choking and he staggered but had gripped onto McCann’s wrist while stepping back the way. McCann let him go, and he stepped back another yard, rubbing his neck and coughing. A lot of the people in the pub were talking at once. And Billy had jumped round the side of McCann and was shouting: Dont fucking start that with Tammas ya cunt or you’re in fucking trouble man, you’re in fucking trouble. .

But McCann had caught him by the shoulder and was pushing him on the way and he went staggering a couple of paces, catching onto a table, and two men who were sitting at it jumped quickly back out the road.

McCann stood staring at Tammas, his arms at his sides, both of his fists flexing open and shut, and his shoulders moving, and he raised his right hand, wagged the forefinger at Tammas: Dont you ever fucking do that again to me. Right!

Tammas said nothing.

I’m fucking warning you Tammas; dont you ever fucking do that to me again. Or you’re fucking dead. Ye listening? D’you know what I’m talking about? You’re fucking dead!

Tammas was gazing at him.

You hear what I’m saying?

Tammas made no answer.

Eh?

And Billy was now tugging at him on the elbow. Hey man hey come on, let’s go, let’s go man, let’s go — out of this fucking place man, fucking bastards, let’s go. .

Tammas rubbed at his neck again and coughed. Over McCann’s shoulder he could see Auld Roper making signs, gesticulating, pointing at the exit. . He made no acknowledgment but continued gazing in the direction of McCann.

McCann was staring back at him.

And now Billy’s hand was on his shoulder and pulling him backwards and he said, Aye, aye, I’m coming. . And he saw the barmen staring at him and also a couple of guys standing up by the bar, all staring at him.

Outside on the pavement Billy took him by the arm. Tammas was shaking his head, still rubbing at his neck, Come on man. . Billy was patting him now on the shoulder.

Fucking bastard, said Tammas, fucking bastard.

I know man I know he’s a fucking, a fucking bastard man a bastard, you dont worry about him man a cunt like that, you dont worry about cunts like that man dirty fucking bastard.

Whhh Jesus. . Tammas shook his head from side to side, making a grunting blowing noise, his eyelids shut and with his shoulder now leaning against the tenement wall; then he was seeing an old woman staring at him — she was standing some yards away at a bus stop, standing staring at him. He turned his head, putting his hand over his eyes, and walked on, Billy going with him.

They were walking in the direction of where Billy lived, neither speaking, not looking at each other till eventually Tammas paused a little bringing out the cigarettes, and they got them lighted, and then he led the way across the road and round the next corner. And Billy said, Going to the betting shop?

Aye. Tammas sniffed. A horse I fancy in the next.

You alright?

Aye.

Neck?

Aye, okay. . Fucking nearly strangled me so he did.

Billy nodded. As they entered the doorway of the betting shop Tammas palmed him a £5 note but he frowned and muttered, What the fuck’s this for?

Tammas shrugged.

I dont want it. . Billy held it upwards as though to return it.

Och stick it in your pocket man it’s just to have a bet.

Billy shook his head but he took the money and he followed Tammas into the shop.

It was very busy inside and each went to different formpages. Then Tammas checked the previous races’ results. Neither of the first two runners of the three he fancied earlier had managed to gain even a place. He counted the money he had left and then stuck it all onto the third one. When he was writing out the line he saw Billy across the room, also writing out a line. They went to different pay-in windows, then stood together to hear the commentary. The horse Tammas had backed fell at the 2nd fence. But neither he nor Billy had mentioned their selections to the other, and after a moment he muttered, I need a slash man. . And he crossed in the direction of the lavatory, leaving Billy engrossed in the commentary. Outside he began running. It was after 3 o’clock. He ran over the road and cut through the back of a close, crossing backcourts to avoid passing Simpson’s, and on to his own street and up the stairs to collect the bankbook.

The bank was almost empty. He scribbled a withdrawal slip for the £44. The clerk gazed at it and at the figures in the bankbook. Is that you closing the account altogether? he asked.

Well eh. . Tammas sniffed. Naw, just give me the forty three.

The clerk nodded. But you’ll need to alter it and initial it. . and he returned him the slip.

Billy signalled to him when he arrived back in the bookmaker’s. D’you catch it?

Nah.

Billy nodded. No me either! First favourite of the day as well! Could’ve been backed.

Mm. . Tammas had taken out his cigarettes; he offered Billy one but he declined.

I’m smoking too much these days, he said. And he glanced at Tammas’s neck and pointed at it: Alright man? Looks hell of a red.

Tammas nodded. A wee bit sore.

Fucking McCann! Billy shook his head, he cleared his throat and spat in between his feet, scraping his shoe over it. And when Tammas did not reply he added, Now I know how you were wanting to give it the go bye!

Tammas looked at him.

Naw I mean. . Billy smiled. You werent wanting to go in the first place man it was me fucking dragged you — Simpson’s I’m talking about.

Aw aye, hh. Tammas inhaled on the cigarette and a moment later he walked to a wall to look at one of the formpages.

•••

The bedroom door being opened roused him but the light was not switched on and he kept his eyelids shut and stayed in the same position, and soon the door closed, clicking shut.

Later on Margaret entered, she walked straight in and put her hand onto his shoulder, and he turned over to lie on his back. I didnt want to waken you, she said, but I know you never took your tea; and me and Robert’s just about to have some supper.

Mm.

It’s nearly midnight.

He sniffed and squinted at the alarm clock, raising himself onto his elbows.

You’ve been sleeping for ages Tammas.

Aye; I was tired.

She smiled. When he squinted over at the clock again she said, Will I put on the light?

Nah, I think I’ll just stay here. . He lay down and tugged the blankets up to his chin.

Are you okay?

Okay? Aye.

Are you sure?

Aye, fine.

You dont seem fine.

Well I am.

She nodded.

Honest. Honest Margaret.

It’s toast and cheese we’re having if you’re interested.

Eh — naw, ta, I’ll no bother.

Tch, Tammas.

Honest Margaret I’m just no hungry.

Well you’ll take a cup of tea surely!

Aye.

Well thank goodness for that!

Once she had gone he waited a moment then sat up and reached to switch on the bedside lamp. He lifted the cigarette packet; only one remained inside. He left it on top of the packet and lay down again, but only for a brief period, then he got up out of bed and pulled the curtains open about a foot in width. Margaret’s footsteps in the lobby. He jumped back into bed and tugged up the blankets. When she came in she was carrying a teaplate with a slice of toast and cheese on it, as well as a cup of tea. Dont eat it if you dont feel like it, she said.

He nodded. Thanks.

She paused by the door. Goodnight.

Goodnight.

She shut the door. Tammas sat up, punched the pillow in at his back, lifted over the teaplate.

•••

He was awake before the alarm went off. It was 5 am and some birds had been whistling for maybe twenty minutes although it still seemed dark outside. He waited until the click occurred just prior to the bell and quickly stretched across and tapped down the button, and he got out of bed immediately. Once he had dressed he opened the wardrobe door and took out his big travelling bag. It was already packed. He laid it on the bed. Beside it he laid the bankbook, the UB40, the cigarette and box of matches. He took his boots from the bottom of the wardrobe and placed them on the floor down from the bag, lifted his jerkin from its hanger and folded it next to the bankbook. Then he knelt and looked beneath the bed, and stood up and looked about the room, going into the drawers in the cupboard and checking along the window-sill and all other places where things could be lying.

And afterwards, he went into the bathroom for a piss and then washed and collected his toothbrush and shaving gear, and back in the bedroom he unzipped a side pocket in the travelling bag and stuffed them in.

There was enough milk for a bowl of cornflakes. But he did not make coffee or tea. He margarined a slice of bread then put some jam on it. He found a plastic wrapper to stick it into. Back in the bedroom he unzipped the side pocket once more and stuffed it in. He stepped to the window and stared out for a time.

It was cold but dry, and there was only a breeze. At the closemouth he struck a match and lighted the cigarette. He swung the bag up on his shoulder while stepping out onto the pavement. There had been eleven 10 pence coins in the meterbowl, plus some coppers in change lying on the mantelpiece. He had taken the lot and left a note for Margaret.

When he reached the corner of the street a bus approached. He carried on walking, heading along towards Argyle Street. He kept on walking, passing through the centre of the city, on along to Bridgeton Cross, passing the turnoff to Shawfield and on towards Celtic Park. A transport cafe had lights on inside but its doors were still locked shut. He walked maybe two hundred yards beyond the Auchenshuggle terminus, and then put down the travelling bag and lowered himself down next to it.

A car was coming. He watched it pass, seated on the heels of his boots. And another was coming. He watched it too. Then a big lorry in the distance and he got up smartly, grabbing the bag and striding on, the thumb out. But the lorry did not pause at all. The next one did, it slowed to a stop some fifty yards ahead and Tammas started trotting after it, the bag swinging at his side. A big articulated lorry. He opened the cabin door and the driver nodded. Thanks a lot, he said. And he gripped the bar by the door and climbed the couple of steps up and in.

The driver was moving on now, his gaze to the rearview mirror. And as he increased the speed he was reaching into the top pocket of his shirt and bringing out a packet of cigarettes. . Smoke?

Aye. Thanks.

The driver passed him one and lighted his own with a gaslighter. Tammas struck a match for his. The driver glanced at him: Going far?

Eh, how far you going yourself?

Me Jock? London.

London?

Yeh. . The driver nodded, his gaze returning to the road. Yeh, home and see the kiddies. Four days I been away Jock, four days — four days too long!

Tammas nodded.