A Chancer (41 page)

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.

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?