A Chancer (34 page)

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.