Beggars Banquet

Natural Selection

‘Hellish about Anthony.’

‘Christ, isn’t it? Six years.’

‘Six is a long one.’

‘The longest,’ Thomas agreed. ‘I’ve only ever done two and a half.’

‘Three, me,’ said Paul. ‘My shout then.’

‘No, Paul, it’s mine,’ Philip said.

‘Your money’s no good today, Philip,’ Paul said. ‘Hiy, Matthew, give us two spesh, a dark rum, and a vodka.’

Paul was buying. Paul, for a change, had plenty of money.

‘Cheers, Paul.’

‘Aye, all the best, Paolo.’

‘You’re quiet, Leonard,’ Paul said.

‘Eh?’

‘Quiet.’

Leonard shrugged. He wasn’t usually quiet. But then it wasn’t a normal day. ‘Just thinking about Anthony.’

‘Six years,’ said Philip, exhaling.

‘Hellish,’ said Paul. ‘Here, Leonard, have a-’

‘No, I’ll take it neat.’

‘You always have a skoosh of Irn-Bru in your vodka.’

‘Not today.’

‘What’s wrong, Leonardo?’

‘Christ, nothing, I just don’t… look, okay, give me the Irn-Bru.’

‘Not if you don’t want it.’

‘I want it.’

‘You’ve changed your mind?’

‘Just give the bottle here.’

‘Touchy today, isn’t he, Thomasino?’

‘A bit, Paul, I’d have to agree with you there.’

‘Hell, all I said was…’

‘Okay, Leonard, no problemo, big man. You take your vodka any way you want your vodka. No big deal. Okay?’

‘It’s only vodka.’

‘A metaphysical statement indeed. So get it down you. Hiy, Philip, how’s your spesh?’

‘Nothing special.’

Paul laughed. ‘Says the same thing every time. Dependable, Philip, that’s you. Not like these two.’

‘What?’

‘Look at you,’ Paul told them. ‘Leonard usually going twenty to the dozen, Thomas like a deaf mute in a sensory deprivation tank. Roles reversed today, eh?’

‘What’s a sensory deprivation tank?’

‘Well,’ said Philip, ‘here’s to Anthony.’

‘Anthony.’

‘Cheers.’

‘All the best.’

‘So… a wee skoosh of Irn-Bru after all, eh, Leonard?’

‘I thought we weren’t going to-’

‘You are not wrong, I was out of turn. Sorry, Leonard.’

‘Leonard’s all right.’

‘Why shouldn’t I be?’

‘One for yourself, Matthew?’

The barman was still waiting to be paid. ‘Thanks, Paul, I’ll stick one aside for later.’ He walked back to his till with the cash.

‘Matthew’s all right,’ Paul said, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

‘Not bad.’

‘Keeps himself to himself.’

‘Wise in a place like this,’ said Thomas, wiping foam from his top lip, ‘full of people like us. I’ll tell you something, Paul, if I wasn’t me, I wouldn’t drink in here.’

‘Where else is there?’

‘There’s the Last Drop or the World’s End.’

‘No chance.’

‘Well, it’s a hell-hole all the same.’

‘Ach, you get used to it. I’ve been drinking here thirty years, man and boy. Come on, Leonard, no slacking.’

‘I’m pacing myself.’

‘Philip’s finished his spesh already, by the way.’

‘Thirsty,’ Philip explained.

‘Whose shout?’

‘I mean,’ Paul went on, ‘this is a big night, a kind of wake. No night to be pacing yourself. Six years: we’re drinking for Anthony tonight.’

‘That judge…’

‘And the jury.’

‘Ach, it was the evidence though,’ said Philip. ‘If they’ve got the evidence, what can you do?’

‘You can’t scare off every jury.’

‘They knew everything.’

‘Who did?’ Leonard asked.

‘Those two cops. How did they know all that?’

‘Go on then.’

‘What do you say, Leonard?’

‘Huh?’

‘You’re the one with the brains. How did those two cops know?’

‘Guesswork? I don’t know.’

‘Maybe they got lucky,’ Philip suggested.

‘They can’t all be as thick as the ones we know,’ Thomas added.

‘Or as scared.’

‘Anthony’ll be all right,’ said Paul. ‘Whichever nick he goes to, he’ll end up running the place.’

‘Very true,’ said Philip. ‘All the same, six years. He’ll be out in… what? Three? Three years locked up, no fresh air…’

‘When did that ever bother Anthony?’

‘How do you mean, Leonard?’

‘Or any of us, come to that,’ Leonard went on. ‘I mean, at least the screws will make him go for a walk around the yard. That’s more fresh air than he ever got sitting in here.’

‘You’re a cheery bugger,’ said Thomas.

‘He’s probably got a cell bigger than this… and better decorated.’

‘Leonard, Leonard, where would we be without you, eh? Always joking.’

‘Am I?’

‘You know you are,’ Paul said, lighting a cigarette and passing the pack on. ‘We’re all gutted, it’s a natural reaction.’

‘What is?’

‘Eh? Good man, Matthew. Put them down there, and chalk up another for yourself.’ Paul reached into his pocket for the wallet.

‘Where did all that cash come from, by the way?’ Leonard asked.

‘Never you mind.’ Paul winked and handed Matthew another ten. Matthew went back to the till.

‘You know,’ Paul said quietly, ‘I sometimes wonder how much Matthew hears.’

‘You mean how much he listens?’

‘Yes.’

‘Matthew’s all right.’

‘Well, he knows everything we talk about in here.’

‘We never talk jobs.’

‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying he’d… you know.’

‘What’s going on?’ Thomas asked, appearing not to follow things at all.

‘Just a natural reaction,’ said Philip. He was watching Paul hand out the drinks. ‘We’re all… something like this, it guts you, doesn’t it?’

‘All right, Thomas,’ Paul said, ‘get this down you, leave all your troubles behind. Leonard, another wee vodka. There’s the Irn-Bru, your decision, okay? You’re a free agent. All right there, Thomasino? Cough it up. Good man, now get that down you. Philip, one pint of delicious foaming spesh. Enough to quench the fire, eh?’

‘It’s never enough.’

‘Cheers, Paul.’

‘No, but it’s only natural, isn’t it?’ Paul said, not touching his own Black Heart. ‘I mean, natural to wonder, to ask yourself how the cops knew. It’s a reaction, we’ll get over it. Having trouble with that bottle-top, Leonard?’

‘You always screw the fucking thing back on too tight.’

‘Give it here.’

‘No, I can-’

‘Here, I’ll-’

‘ I can do it! ’

‘Whoah there, Leonard. Brakes on, pal, no need for this. Look, there it is, the top’s off. Amazing how strong you can get when you’re angry. Right then, everybody, good health.’

‘Cheers.’

‘All the best.’

‘Aye.’

‘Hiy, Matthew,’ Thomas called, ‘can you no’ open a window? It’s like a furnace in here.’ He turned to Paul. ‘Windows, they paint over them, you can’t open the things. Never would have happened in the old days. Sloppy these days, decorators. I mean, hot’s fine in the winter, but this isn’t winter.’

‘Hellish hot,’ Leonard agreed, calm again. ‘It’s always too hot in here.’

‘You could heat pies without a microwave.’

‘One of those ceiling fans would be nice,’ Paul said. ‘There used to be one, didn’t there?’

‘Did there?’

‘This was before your time, Leonard, before you came here. Up there it was, a big white electric fan.’

‘White electric?’

‘I mean painted white, run on electric.’

‘Right.’

‘I don’t know how you can put Irn-Bru in that.’

‘You want me to drink it neat?’

‘Christ, don’t be so… look, just do what-’

‘I like Irn-Bru.’

‘Me too,’ said Philip.

‘Ach, everyone likes Irn-Bru… but with vodka?’

‘I used to drink it that way at school,’ Leonard said. ‘I’d steal some voddy from the drinks cabinet and mix it in an Irn-Bru bottle.’

‘Drinks cabinet, eh? Your family had class, Leonard.’

‘Didn’t stop him turning into a criminal at an early age.’

‘I was born a criminal.’

‘Isn’t everybody?’ Philip said, deep into his drink.

‘No,’ said Leonard, ‘some people have to learn. Anthony wasn’t a born criminal.’

‘You don’t think so?’

‘He told me so. He ran with his big brother’s gang. He was okay till he started running with them.’

‘His brother Donny?’

‘That’s the one.’

‘You don’t see him in here.’

‘He’s gone away,’ said Thomas. ‘Been away a while.’

‘There’s a lot you don’t see in here any more.’

‘Well, we’re here,’ said Paul, ‘and that’s all that matters.’

‘Aye, we’re always here.’

‘For ever and ever, amen.’

‘Where did you get that money though, Paul?’

Paul winked again. ‘Is it bothering you, Leonard?’

‘Was it the gee-gees?’ Thomas asked. ‘Lottery? Dogs? Pools? I’ll bet it was a betting thing.’

‘You’d lose your money. Now either stop asking, or stop taking drinks off me.’

Thomas laughed. ‘Nobody’d be that daft.’

‘No? What about you, Leonard?’

‘What about me?’

‘Nothing,’ said Paul.

‘No,’ Leonard persisted, ‘what is it? Something’s stuck up your arse and I’d like to know what it is.’

Paul looked amazed. ‘Me? There’s nothing bothering me, pal. What about you, Leonardo?’

‘Here we go again,’ said Philip. ‘Just cool it, compadres.’

‘You’re right, Philip,’ said Paul, ‘as ever. How come you’re always right? You never lose your rag, do you? You’re a calm sort, controlled. Isn’t he, lads?’ Paul tapped his own brow. There was a sheen of sweat on it. ‘But we know there’s a lot going on in that head of his.’

‘It’s the quiet ones you have to watch,’ said Thomas.

‘Thomas, you’ll never say a truer word. Out of the mouths of babes, as they say. Jesus, Philip, are you finished already?’

‘It’s hot,’ Philip said.

‘A furnace.’

‘This thirst,’ Philip added, ‘I can’t seem to shake it.’

‘Christ, Matthew,’ Paul called, ‘do something, will you?’

‘Like what?’

‘Open the fridge door or something. Start putting ice in the drinks. Something.’

‘We’re out of ice.’

‘You’ll be out of a job if we take our custom elsewhere.’

Matthew smiled. ‘You four aren’t going anywhere.’

‘No talking back to the customers, Matthew,’ Paul said, pointing a finger. ‘Leonard, ready for another?’

‘I’ve two in front of me.’

‘Apply yourself to the task. We’ll have the same again, Matthew.’

‘Not for me,’ said Leonard.

‘Play the game, Leonardo. Give him another, Matthew.’ The barman walked back to the optics.

‘You’re wasting your money, Paul.’

‘It’s my money.’

‘You’ll be skint again tomorrow.’

‘Who cares about tomorrow?’

‘Suit yourself.’

‘I always do.’

‘This is very pleasant,’ said Philip.

‘It’s not meant to be pleasant,’ Paul said. ‘It’s a wake, remember?’

‘How can I forget?’

‘Levity ill becomes you, Filipi.’

‘What’s levity?’ Thomas asked.

‘Lightness,’ Leonard explained.

Thomas nodded. ‘Like being light in the head?’

‘Lot of levity about here,’ Paul said, winking.

‘Maybe I’m ill,’ said Philip, loosening his collar. ‘My mouth’s parched all day.’

‘Could be a lot of reasons for that,’ Paul said. ‘Could be nerves.’

‘Nerves?’

‘I saw something yesterday,’ Thomas said, ‘on the telly. It was about these insects that eat each other. Or maybe it was their babies they ate.’

Paul and Philip looked at one another, the way they did when Thomas said this sort of thing.

‘That’s not so rare,’ Leonard told Thomas, his eyes on Paul.

‘You’re a smart one, aren’t you?’ said Paul.

Leonard shook his head, drained one of his vodkas. ‘It’s all relative,’ he said. Then he slipped off his barstool.

‘First one tonight,’ said Paul, smiling. ‘And as usual it’s Leonard. Three shorts he’s put away, but he’s bursting for a piss. You need a bladder transplant, Leonardo.’

Leonard stopped in front of Paul. ‘Maybe it’s just nerves, Paul,’ he said.

Nobody said anything as he left the bar.

The toilet was reeking. There was the constant hiss of a broken ballcock, and names scratched into the paint on the dark red wall. The urinal was a stainless steel trough. It was cooler in here though, damp and cool. Leonard lit a cigarette for himself. He reckoned if it weren’t for the smell, this place would be a preferable alternative to the bar itself. Freezing in winter though. Bloody awful pub altogether, why didn’t they just leave? Well, as somebody had said, where else was there?

The door creaked open and Matthew came in.

‘Matthew.’

‘Leonard.’

The barman went to the urinal and unzipped himself loudly. His stare was high up the wall when he spoke.

‘They’re out for your blood.’

‘What?’

‘Those three. Well, Paul specifically, but he’ll carry the other two. He’s buying, after all.’

‘What have I done?’

‘Come on, Leonard. Paul thinks you shopped Anthony.’

‘Then how come he’s the one with the money?’

‘If it was a cop payoff, he wouldn’t be flashing it about. Get out, right now. Just run for it.’

‘I’ve never run in my life.’

‘It’s up to you.’ Matthew zipped himself up. ‘But if I was in your shoes, I’d be offski.’

‘Where would I go?’

‘I don’t know.’ There was another creak as the door opened. Paul came in first. Philip and Thomas were right behind him. The door closed quietly after them.

‘What’s that you’re saying, Matthew?’

‘Nothing, Paul.’

‘You’re a great one for talking, aren’t you?’

‘No.’

‘A gossip, a right wee sweetie-wife. Talking’s in your blood.’

‘No.’

‘No? This had the look of a snitches’ convention when I walked in. Guilty looks all round.’

Matthew tried shaking his head.

‘Easy to confuse guilt with fear,’ Leonard said quietly.

‘Know where that money came from?’ Paul said. He wasn’t speaking to any one of them in particular. His eyes were on his shoes, examining the toes. ‘I’ll tell you, it came from Anthony.’

‘Anthony?’ Thomas said. ‘Why did he give you that much money? I mean, he’s usually tight… I mean, careful. He’s canny with his money.’ Thomas’s voice died away.

Paul half turned his head and gave Thomas a smile full of sympathy.

‘You aren’t half going on tonight, Thomasino. Not like you at all. It’s not like him at all, is it, Philip?’

Philip was wiping his face with the roller-towel. ‘No, it’s not,’ he said.

‘He’s usually quiet, isn’t he?’

‘Quiet as the grave,’ Philip agreed.

‘And even someone as thick as you sometimes appear to be, Thomas, has got to have an inkling why Anthony would give me a load of cash.’ He paused. ‘Don’t you want to know, Philip?’

Philip shrugged. ‘You’ll tell us when you’re ready.’

Paul was smiling. ‘You never change, Philip. Always the same face, the same voice. Nothing out of place. I bet you could do away with your granny and we’d never know about it, not by looking at you.’ He paused again. ‘Except tonight you’re sweating. Why is that?’

‘I think I’m coming down with something.’

‘Well, we’ll see to it you get a doctor when this is over.’ Matthew started to open the door. ‘ Shut it! ’ Paul smiled. ‘Don’t want to let the heat in, do we?’ He turned to Leonard. ‘Anthony gave me the money because he wants someone taken care of. Someone in particular. He told me once I was sure in my mind, I was to start earning the cash. That’s what Anthony told me.’

‘In other words, he doesn’t know?’

‘That’s right, Leonard.’

‘Funny he asked you.’

‘He trusts me.’

‘But what if he’s wrong, Paolo? What if he’s wrong about that?’ Leonard looked to the other men in the cramped space – Matthew, Philip, Thomas. ‘What if you grassed him up, and we found out?’ They’d all been looking nervous; now they were looking interested. ‘What would we do?’

‘Yes,’ Thomas said quietly, getting it, ‘what would we do?’

Philip was nodding slowly, and Matthew straightened his back, adding an inch to his height.

‘There’s only one guilty party here, Leonard,’ Paul was saying.

‘You really believe that?’

‘I’m not saying it’s you.’ Paul was staring into Leonard’s eyes. He saw red paint reflected from the walls.

‘You’re saying it’s one of us, Paul. The rest of us don’t like that.’

Leonard took a step forwards. Paul’s hand went to his jacket pocket. Philip was behind him, his arms stretching. Thomas’s hands were fists. Matthew leaned against the door, keeping it closed.

Outside it was dark, no streetlight, no traffic. You would bet that it couldn’t get any darker, but you’d be wrong. People most often are.