A Chancer (7 page)

Seven.

The girl hesitated.

Tammas nodded. Ask him and see . . . He watched through the grille as she crossed the floor and handed the suit to the middle aged man at the table. He glanced at the suit and muttered something
to her. When she returned she laid the suit on the counter before speaking. He says three fifty for it.

Three fifty?

Yes.

Mm. He opened the bag and brought out a pair of black shoes, slid them beneath the grille.

The girl shook her head.

But they’ve only been worn once.

He wont even look at them.

What – I mean, hh . . . He shrugged and indicated the soles: Hardly even scuffed.

They have to be brand new but, no worn at all.

No worn at all?

Yes, they’ve no to be worn at all.

Just ask him.

No, there’s no point, he’ll no . . . She closed her lips and shook her head.

Och that’s terrible I mean they’ve no even been worn, just the once.

She nodded.

He sighed, then he smiled briefly. After a few moments she pushed the shoes back under the grille to him and she asked: Do you still want to leave the suit?

Aye. He looked at her.

•••

It was beginning to rain heavily. Ralphie and Tammas were collecting rubbish from the long grass near the canal bank and disposing of it in the skip container. The older man
stopped working first. That’s that, he said. The boiler room! He started trotting in that direction at once, holding his bunnet down on his head with one hand.

Tammas shouted after him: I’ll see you later.

Ralphie paused: Where you going?

Ah – just for a walk.

Aye well you better hide son, keep out the fucking road – know what I mean?

Aye dont worry. He turned and walked to one of the doors into the factory, keeping close in to the wall to avoid the rain. Inside was another door, lying ajar. There was a steady hum from the
generator room. He pushed open the door more widely, and entered. It was a small room and there was a youth sitting on a pipe with a magazine open on his lap, leaning on his shoulder was one of the
engineers. They glanced at him. The youth grimaced: Dont fucking do that to people!

Sorry.

Jesus sake, said the man, placing his hand on his chest. I nearly had a fucking heart attack!

Tammas nodded. After a moment he said, I was looking for eh auld Benny, you seen him?

They shook their heads. The man added, He’ll be in the boiler room.

Aw aye . . . Course . . . He nodded, then he made to leave.

The youth said: You playing football at dinner time?

Aye, you?

If the rain stops.

Aye. Tammas turned but he glanced back: Hey you got a smoke at all?

Naw.

I’ve got one, said the man. He took a packet of tipped from the top pocket of his boilersuit and flipped it across.

Great, ta – I’ve been gasping all morning! He withdrew a cigarette, flipped the packet back.

While the man was taking one for himself he gestured at the magazine and chuckled, Horny porny.

Aw. Hh! Tammas struck his match down the wall; he inhaled and exhaled.

Take a look, said the youth.

Tammas smiled. It’ll put me off my work!

Ach come on man it’s amazing stuff; manky as fuck, take a swatch!

After a moment Tammas stepped forwards, placing one hand against the wall to balance himself while bending slightly. The youth held it to the side a little for him to see. It was a colour
photograph covering the two pages and showed three men sexually involved with one woman. Tammas blushed, he continued to stare at it.

The man laughed: Look at his face!

Tammas breathed out; he inhaled on the cigarette, shaking his head; he moved away. That’ll do me, he said.

He’s had enough! grinned the man.

No fucking wonder! Tammas shook his head.

The youth was grinning and turning a page. Come here and see this yin!

Naw no me man . . . Tammas shook his head again. I’ll see you later.

The youth laughed.

Outside the room he nipped the cigarette and wedged it behind his ear. He returned back out into the rear yard and stood close in to the wall with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders
hunched. A man in a white coat appeared suddenly at a door farther down, and Tammas was walking along and back into the factory; a brush was lying on the floor just inside the doorway and glancing
quickly sideways he collected it and continued walking in the direction of the hoist.

The top floor of the part of the factory where Tammas normally worked was a small storeroom, nowadays used only for the cutting-section. One guy was in charge. Ralphie and
Tammas were up helping him shift old packing crates to make space for new stock. He had left them to enter up his written work for the afternoon, but eventually he opened the window of his office
and called to Tammas: Make the tea!

Tammas looked at him then at Ralphie who shrugged, and nodded in the direction of the sink. Thanks, he said. I’m a teaboy now.

Ralphie shrugged again and looked away.

During the break the three of them sat in the office in silence. Ralphie rose and he walked to a stack of parcels, began to read their labels. Eights by twelve, he said, I didnt know we still
used them?

The storeman nodded. We just keep a few in case.

Mmm . . . Ralphie had taken the pipe from his pocket and was opening his tobacco pouch. The storeman lighted a cigarette, returned the packet into the drawer in his desk. Did you hear? said
Ralphie. Auld McCreadie, he’s retired.

The storeman inhaled deeply on his cigarette.

Couple of weeks back.

Hh.

Aye, said Ralphie. He tapped the tobacco down inside the pipebowl and got his lighter out, and flicked on its large flame, sucking on the stem while lighting the tobacco; soon it was burning and
he put the lighter away and let out a big cloud of blue smoke; he returned the pipe to between his lips. He came to sit back down again.

Tammas stood up. Going to the toilet, he said, and he left the office. There was a toilet on this floor but he passed it by, heading to the back of the area where the fire-escape staircase was
situated. He walked down slowly, to the landing between floors, and he gazed out the window, out over the canal to the tenement buildings beyond. After a time he lowered himself to sit on his
heels, then he sat on the concrete floor, his back to the wall and legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles.

•••

The smell of cooking was quite strong when he entered the lobby. Closing the door he continued on past the kitchen to his own room. He changed his clothes then lay on the bed.
He got up and tugged over the curtains, lay down again, hands clasped beneath his head on the pillow. But he rose moments later.

Margaret was alone. She was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the
Evening Times.

He went to the oven and lifted the lid off one of the pots, sniffed loudly: Delicious. I’m starving Margaret! He turned the switch a little, so that the flame became higher.

Dont do that, you’ll just burn it.

Sorry, I was . . . he shrugged, I was only kidding.

She nodded, gazing at the newspaper. He sat on a chair across from her, with his back to the wall, facing away from her. He said: Did you manage up the hospital?

Yes. Yes, I did . . . Margaret stood up; she walked over to the oven, lifted the lid off the pot, glanced inside.

How was she? he asked, pulling the newspaper towards himself.

Fine. The usual.

He nodded. Did she know you? He shut the newspaper, turned it to the back page. Margaret was taking the lid off the other pot which had potatoes boiling in it, and she tested them with a fork.
Tammas said again: Did she know you?

Margaret nodded.

Mm. That’s something.

What d’you mean?

Eh . . . Naw – just the last time I was up; remember? She thought I was her brother.

Margaret returned to her chair at the table. He carried on reading for several moments before glancing up, and saying, How was work? Then he dropped his gaze and muttered: Sorry Margaret . . .
He looked at her: I’m sorry. The thing is . . .

She had shaken her head.

Placing his elbows on the edge of the table he inclined his head slightly and rubbed the bridge of his nose between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. I was a bit short, had to put in
extra for Blackpool and that. He took his hand away from his face and gazed at her: Coming off the machine Margaret, it means a drop in the wages, no bonus or nothing. Labouring rates just,
that’s all we’re getting – even them that’s been in the job for years; hopeless . . . Plus there’s a guy owes me a good few pounds. He was supposed to give me it on
Friday there but he’s on the panel and there’s no way of getting in touch with him I mean I was thinking of going up to chap his door and that but I dont like to I mean . . . he
shrugged.

You kept out my road all weekend.

He sniffed.

Tammas, you kept out my road all weekend. How did you not just tell me? Her arms had been folded but now she had unfolded them. She looked away, shaking her head a little.

I wasnt keeping out your road. I was in the whole of Saturday night, it was just yous were out. I went to bed early and then got up early on the Sunday cause I had to go to Rab’s.

If you didnt have enough money all you had to do was tell me. And then what time did you come in at last night? I never even heard you! Did you come in last night!

What?

Well for all I know it was this morning. Robert didnt hear you either.

I was in the back of 2.

The back of 2?

Aye, the back of 2 . . . He sniffed and glanced at her: I was up at Donnie’s.

Why did you not tell me? you could’ve phoned Mrs Brady up the stair, that’s all you had to do. When I dont even know you’re coming how do I know about food? How am I supposed
to know? Did you go in to work even? Or did you just lie in your bed all morning?

He looked away.

After a few moments Margaret got up off her chair and she crossed to the oven.

Eventually he cleared his throat and said, Donnie’s maw was asking for you.

Margaret nodded.

Her and Donnie’s auld man, they’re really knocking their pan in about New Zealand. She’s got lists of her furniture all made up; all ready. It’s good – what
she’s done.

Margaret had been forking the potatoes. She settled the lid back on the pot and glanced at the wall-clock.

Where’s Robert?

He’s away a message, she replied after a moment.

Naw, he said, she wants to be ready, Donnie’s maw – so there’ll be no last minute panic once the date comes through.

I didnt know they were going for a while yet . . . Margaret lifted a cloth from the sink and she dabbed at the side of the oven with it.

It’s just she wants to be ready, so when the time comes it means there’ll be no worries about selling the stuff. It’s good but, the way she’s made up the lists and that.
She’s going to stick numbers on everything as well. She’s got it all worked out.

Margaret nodded. That’s good.

After a moment or two he turned the back page of the newspaper and began to read. But he stopped almost immediately and he got up and crossed to the cupboard, brought three dinner plates,
teacups and saucers from a lower shelf, and cutlery from the top drawer. While he arranged them on the table he asked, Did you see any of the nurses? at the hospital?

Yes . . . yes I did.

Which one?

O, that wee one, her from the highlands.

Tammas smiled. He had returned to the chair and was sitting with one elbow on the edge of the table, his other hand in his trouser pocket.

I know she barks at some of the poor old souls but at least she makes sure nobody takes what doesnt belong to them. Margaret smiled. And she can be cheery when she likes. Anyway, before she came
to the ward it was terrible; you could hardly leave a packet of biscuits down without there was somebody pinching it. Grannie was always losing things, it wasnt fair.

Aye. Did you no say she was a gossip but?

No. Margaret shook her head abruptly. The wee highland one? No, not at all; you’re mixing her up.

Mm.

Margaret turned, her back to him; she switched on the cold water tap and washed her hands. When she had dried them and returned the hand-towel to the rail she glanced at the clock again.

Eh Margaret . . . He stood up, nodded at the pots on the oven while lifting a dinner plate: Mind if I take mine the now? I’ll just eat it in the room if it’s okay. I’ve got a
book I’m reading.

•••

Three men in suits had appeared on the path outside the factory door. They gazed at the canal, one of them talking and the other two listening. Then a foreman came out to join
them. Tammas stepped out from the wall, he strode in their direction. He continued past them and in through the doorway. He strode on across the factory floor to the hoist but when he reached it he
paused, then carried straight on up the corridor, and he made his way round to the back staircase leading to the small storeroom on the top floor.

The man in charge was sitting up by the hoist with a clipboard of papers on his lap. Tammas watched him for a time, before sidling in from the fire-escape exit, and moving in behind the large
stacks of packing crates. Piles of old sacking lay in the corner. When he reached there he felt in at the bottom of some of it and brought out a couple of
Readers’ Digests
, and lowered
himself down onto the sacking.

A while later the hoist could be heard clanking to a halt, the gates being opened. Shifting some of the higher crates a little he was able to make enough of a gap to see through. Two women from
the floor below. A younger one followed them out pushing a barrow; her blue dustcoat was unbuttoned and she had a blouse on and jeans. She was pushing the barrow down towards him while the other
two stayed at the hoist gates chatting to the storeman. When she reached a stack about 20 yards off she stopped, and she bent to lift a big cardboard box onto the barrow, lifting one corner only,
and then sliding it on; but the weight caused the barrow to move, the box sliding back off to lie on the floor. The girl stood up. She glanced up to the others, she put her hands into the side
pockets of her dustcoat and she kicked gently at the cardboard box, making a whistling sound, a tune. The two women were coming. Tammas stood back from the gap between the crates; he lowered
himself down onto the sacking.