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Authors: James Kelman

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BOOK: A Chancer
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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.

BOOK: A Chancer
4.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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