Greyhound for Breakfast (13 page)

Heh . . . Billy Hendrie glanced swiftly at the kitchen door and whispered: Mind that time he tried to get a faro bank going in here?

Millar and his brother were supposed to be away off on holiday, grinned the Ragman.

Oanny chuckled, I’d forgot all about that!

The Ragman turned to those in the company who looked as if they had never heard about the business and he continued, No kidding ye, there was about a dozen of us, all in here one Tuesday
dinnertime – dinnertime, aye! Anyway, the Ghoul’s got everything set up and he’s running this fucking I think man it might’ve been a grand bank, eh Billy?

Must’ve been. Maybe even one and a half.

Oanny was nodding and grinning and he said. And then the fucking door opens . . .

And in they come, said the Ragman, the two of them.

Didnt know what the hell was going on! whispered Oanny.

Naw, said the Ragman, the two of them with their mouths hanging wide open!

And then the Ghoul, said Oanny, he just gives them both a wave: how’s it going, he says, sit down, yous’re just in time!

The Ragman laughed loudly and so too did Oanny and Billy Hendrie. Others chuckled and smiled. And the Ragman added, You’d have to have seen it to really appreciate it. Really funny
but!

Tommy Rollo called, Heh there was that other time . . .

Oanny was aware of Alec’s brief signal and he nodded. Victor and Fat Stanley were already approaching the exit. Oanny gave a cheery wave to Ellen whom he saw for the first time now,
sitting on her own reading a magazine. Both he and Alec bade their cheerios to the rest and minutes later were along the lane with the other two.

It was still only half past three in the morning. A taxi for hire was stationary at the traffic lights ahead but none of the four suggested taking it though it was almost a mile from the club to
The Edwardian. They walked quickly, speaking sporadically. Alec giving Oanny a brief run-down on how the game had been. He had managed to double their money but overall he was a bit disappointed.
At one time there used to be a lot of cash around Millar’s club. Nowadays people seemed more interested in throwing it away on roulette and blackjack. Where they now headed was like that, The
Edwardian, but the bonus here was its private members’ room, different from other ordinary casinos.

Oanny was first to enter and he pushed open the glass door in a nonchalant manner. Three men in evening suits were inside the lobby, two were in their early twenties and the other looked in his
forties. Alec stepped to the small table on which lay the large signing-in book. Is big James in? he asked.

The oldest doorman gazed at him. The other two doormen were watching Oanny, Fat Stanley and Victor.

Tell him Alec’s here and wee Oanny and that. Alec sniffed and added, I was on the blower about twenty minutes ago.

The doorman relaxed and replied, I doubt if the four of yous’ll get signed in.

Alec made no comment. He withdrew a new packet of cigarettes and broke the seal, crushed the cellophane wrapping and dropped it into a wastepaper bucket. The doorman had gone. When he came back
he flicked open the pages of the signing-in book and got the four of them to enter in their names and also their addresses. Alec nodded to Oanny and the two of them were followed by Fat Stanley and
Victor. They strolled through the casino, going the longer way round to the lounge. The place was crowded, both sexes; a lot of the women looked to be wearing very expensive outfits. Quite a few
Chinese were about, all ages. They continued into the lounge where a dozen or so people were sitting on the red velvet-backed chairs.

Alec took out the
Daily Record
and began reading immediately. Fat Stanley and Victor glanced about. Oanny grinned, They dont bite.

What? said Fat Stanley.

Oanny was still grinning; he nodded at the girls.

Aw naw, said Fat Stanley. I wasnt . . .

Although the girls wore long evening gowns they obviously worked for the casino. Their dresses were low cut at the front and the back and they had long slits up the sides. They carried trays of
cups and saucers and plates and also of glasses. Oanny cleared his throat, about to say something but Alec shut the newspaper abruptly and got to his feet, he palmed a few notes to Oanny and
murmured, See yous later.

The three nodded.

I’ll eh . . . Alec paused, smiling at a man who was standing over by the door into the casino, and he strolled across, folding the newspaper and sticking it into his coat pocket. The man
wore an evening suit and he smiled at Alec and shook him by the hand.

Oanny squinted over and waved: Tell big James I was asking for him!

Right you are Oanny, said the man.

Oanny glanced sideways at Fat Stanley and Victor, he whispered: That’s wee James, his boy. He raised his eyebrows and slapped his hands together and winked: What d’yous want to drink
then?

Fat Stanley smiled.

I’m serious. Oanny indicated the tiny enclosed bar. What d’yous want?

Eh . . . a bottle of beer maybe? if eh . . .

Fine. Oanny sniffed. Victor?

Eh a pint of lager?

Oanny nodded and called to one of the girls. Hey miss; could I have a pint of lager and two bottles of beer, and a wee vodka and lemonade. He grinned and added: I’ve got to take that vodka
otherwise the lemonade goes to my head!

The girl’s smile became apologetic. You need to get a meal before you can get a drink, she said.

Aw good, good. Oanny rubbed his hands together and said to Fat Stanley: Okay big yin, steak, egg and chips eh? Fancy it?

The girl was apologetic again. I think they’ve stopped serving now. It’s past 4 o’clock.

Aw God.

I’ll go and see but. The girl smiled.

Aye hen we’d appreciate that. Oanny sighed, shaking his head, gazing after the girl in an absent-minded manner.

Nice place, said Fat Stanley. The decor and that, it’s nice.

Aye, said Victor.

Fat Stanley nodded. After a moment he said to Oanny, Is it a while since you’ve been here?

Ages. It’s all changed.

Some money around though eh!

I dont know so much, said Oanny, some of the cunts sitting ben there’ll hang about all night just playing that roulette for pennies.

Victor shrugged.

Fair enough, said Oanny, I’m no saying there’s no money about, I’m just saying it might surprise you, that’s all, that’s all I’m saying. I mind once me and
Alec landed in London – we’d been down at Goodwood with a couple of the boys . . . He paused as the girl appeared. She was still looking apologetic.

I’m sorry, she said then she pointed to an alcove nearby the cloakroom. You can get sandwiches in there.

Eh . . . Oanny tapped the girl on the elbow as she turned to leave. Can we still get something to drink?

Well, tea or coffee.

Aw aye. What is there no chance of eh a wee half or something?

The girl hesitated for a second; she shook her head, and added, Okay?

Fat Stanley smiled at her.

But if you just go over there somebody’ll see to you for sandwiches.

Once she had gone Oanny sniffed and muttered, Those and such as those.

Och naw, said Fat Stanley, I dont think so Oanny.

Aye you better fucking believe it big yin!

Victor shook his head slightly.

You kidding? frowned Oanny.

It’s no up to her, said Victor.

I’m no saying it is up to her. She could’ve put the word in but, that’s what I’m saying.

Fat Stanley nodded. He smiled. Being honest, I dont really feel like a drink anyway.

That’s no the point.

A coffee would do me, said Victor.

Aye plus the lassie was saying about sandwiches, added Fat Stanley. Eh Oanny? Is that no what she said, about sandwiches?

Oanny looked at him then he looked away.

Then Victor rose and muttered about needing a pish and went off to find the gents toilet.

Oanny sighed and patted the pockets of his jacket and coat but the halfbottle had been finished before leaving the club. He opened his cigarettes, took one out and left one beside where Victor
was sitting, then said to Fat Stanley, Do you want one?

Naw.

Oanny nodded and got up. He lighted the cigarette while strolling to the alcove at the far end of the room, stuck the packet into his pocket. Another girl was behind the counter, reading a book
with hard covers. She continued reading as Oanny stood there. He grinned eventually. That must be a good book! he said.

Oh, sorry.

Naw, it’s alright!

Are you wanting something? The girl got up from the seat.

A wee niece of mine, he said, she was like you – nose always stuck inside a book!

The girl smiled.

What kind of sandwiches have you got then?

Well, there’s only lettuce and tomato left now.

Lettuce and tomato . . .

We had roast beef and gammon earlier on.

Oanny shrugged. The lettuce and tomato’ll do fine hen. It’s for three. Plus two coffees and a tea – have you got tea?

Yes.

Thank God for that!

She returned with the stuff on a tray and Oanny applied the milk and sugar from the jug and bowl on the counter. He pulled out the small wad of notes.

There’s no charge, said the girl.

What?

For a meal you would have to pay but sandwiches and coffee come free of charge.

Aw aye, I see. Thanks hen . . . Oanny started separating the saucers and putting the cups onto them, then he manoeuvered things about on the tray.

Can you manage? she asked.

Aye – I’m no decrepit altogether!

I wasnt meaning that. It’s just that if you leave the saucers the way they were then everything’ll fit till you get to the table.

Of course, aye. Oanny took the cups back off the saucers and returned the things back onto the tray. He nodded. He noticed a medium-sized bowl to the side of the counter. There was quite a lot
of money inside it. Before lifting the tray he peeled two singles from the small wad and he put them in beside the rest. It was probably tips people left because the sandwiches came free. He hummed
a tune while carrying the tray back to the table. The lassie was nice. But so bloody young! She hardly seemed old enough to be out at this time never mind working in a bloody casino. And these
dresses they were wearing, hers was too tight, and the tops of her tits could actually be seen. It was a wonder the punters ever remembered to pick up their winnings! Not that there would be much
winnings in a place like this. Take away the lassies and what did you have, one big con from top to bottom.

What you laughing at?

What?

Fat Stanley grinned whilst in the middle of munching a sandwich, a sliver of lettuce at the corner of his mouth.

Just thinking about something, replied Oanny. He gestured at the sandwich. No kidding ye but that’s what Ellen should be doing I mean a lot of cunts dont fancy a bowl of fucking soup but
give them a sandwich and a cup of tea and that . . . He shrugged.

I agree with you Oanny.

Plus you’re killing two birds with one stone, you’re cutting out the fucking riff-raff. That’s what fucking draws them, the soup, they think it’s the Salvation Army!
Songs of fucking Praise they’ll be giving us next!

Fat Stanley and Victor both grinned.

Victor stuck the last portion of his sandwich into his mouth and he munched it with his mouth shut, glancing about the room, and when he finished it he wiped his lips.

Still hungry? asked Oanny.

Who me – naw.

The lassie’d give us another couple of sandwiches.

I’m no bothered.

Oanny nodded. What about yourself Stanley?

Fat Stanley shrugged. I’m no bothered either.

Mm. Ah well. Oanny sipped at his tea, half of his sandwich still remaining on the plate. He took out his cigarettes and gave one to Victor, offered one to Fat Stanley who moved to take one, then
hesitated.

Eh, d’you mind? he asked.

Course no, fuck sake here, help yourself . . . Oanny screwed his face up to avoid getting smoke in his eyes while getting his cigarette alight. Tell you something, he said, Rollo’s place
is getting really bad. I mind the time if you cleaned the fucking school you were talking about a monkey, and that was on a bad night.

Somebody else won as well but, apart from Alec, said Victor.

Still and all, two hundred quid, it’s not much. Oanny nodded in the direction of the private members’ room. And I’ll tell yous something else, he said, half the cunts ben in
that casino, they’ll no even know there’s a game of poker going on! And that’s the way they want it, the house. Because poker’s like chemmy, it’s a punters’
game. That’s how you dont see a chemmy table in here cause they dont fucking allow it that’s how.

No percentage, muttered Victor.

No enough of one, aye. Oanny nodded after a moment.

Fat Stanley yawned. Well . . . he said, think I’ll go and have a looksee. Eh Victor?

Aye.

What about yourself Oanny?

Nah. Did Alec take that
Record
with him?

Aye.

Tch. Oanny shook his head but added: Maybe get a loan of one off somebody. Here, he said. And he withdrew the small wad and handed it to Victor who nodded slightly, sticking it into his trouser
pocket.

*

Oanny had not seen the pair enter. He glanced around the lounge. Nobody else was sitting down. Fat Stanley said, They’re wanting to shut up shop.

Are they?

It’s a case of hint hint.

Ah well. Oanny yawned and lifted his cigarettes and matches from the table.

That roulette! Fat Stanley grinned. No kidding ye Oanny it’s hell of a fast so it is. You could lose a fortune.

Dont tell me yous fell for it!

It was blackjack I played, said Victor.

Just as deadly. It’s no like fucking pontoons you know!

Victor frowned.

Oanny was opening the cigarette packet and shaking his head. He glanced at Victor as he started getting to his feet. You might know but a lot of cunts dont. They turn a blackjack and think they
can take the fucking bank! I mind one time in Newcastle . . .