by James Kelman
You’re being serious . . . She was looking at him. And when he nodded she also nodded. Maybe.
Maybe . . . he scratched his head. Maybe . . . He stood up. That’s good; maybe. Maybe’ll do.
5
There were showers in the washroom but they only supplied cold water. Hot water was supplied by tap at each of the sinks which were all situated on the floor. When he had rinsed the soap off himself he told Paul to wait there, and to make sure he washed properly. He crossed to the rear wall and switched on a shower, gradually moving from the outside of the spray to directly beneath the jet, but only for an instant before dashing out and through onto the bank of the pool, to dive straight in; he swam the crawl to the deep-end, the breaststroke on the return. Only five other men were in the pool, swimming its length at different speeds, back and forth and back and forth. Hines returned to the deep-end still doing the breaststroke. And touching back into the shallow-end he called Paul from the washroom, and told him to let the dirty water out of his sink.
The water reached to the top of the four steps at the corner of the shallow-end. Hines had walked to there. When Paul arrived he told him to walk down the steps. The boy stooped to fix his hands onto the bank, facing away from the pool towards the washroom; his left foot came to rest on the top step then withdrew as the water lapped onto it. It’s cold, he said.
It’s not cold at all, come on, give me your hand.
Paul knelt on the edge of the bank with his right knee; his left was over the edge, his foot a couple of inches above the water. He kept his hold on the bank with both hands and lowered his foot onto the step.
That’s fine, now just put down your other foot and then you can go to the next step.
Paul did this; he had to twist round, facing away from the washroom, towards the dressing-cubicles, moving his hands out farther from the edge. As the water lapped Hines pushed with it a little, so that it went above the boy’s feet and for a moment he rose onto his toes, but then relaxed again, both feet on the step.
Fine now Paul; I want you just to step down onto the next yin. You can give me your hand.
He was peering down under his body, trying to see his feet maybe, or the steps, but his vision was obscured by the edge of the bank.
Naw son you’ll have to come closer in.
Dont touch me daddy.
Hines had moved forwards; he stopped. Dont worry. I’m standing back.
Paul was advancing backwards, and shifting sideways a bit; he saw his feet on the step; he raised the left and dipped it off the step, keeping it submerged about a third of the way down to the second.
Fine; fine – just keep it there till you’re ready.
He shifted the position of his hands a little and his left foot continued down until his toes touched the step; he was looking at his foot.
That’s it, fine.
Paul had settled his foot now and was putting some of his weight onto it. It was an awkward position he had got into, his body side on, left leg twisted while his right bent, and he swivelled, to lean his left elbow on the bank, his other hand moving to the edge, raising his shoulder, easing his right foot up and along.
That’s good son that’s good.
And he moved his body now, stepping down onto the second step. The water lapped to his knees, he still faced the dressing-cubicles. Hines stepped to the bank to see his face. You’re doing good, he said, but d’you no remember when I took you the last time? You were just a wee boy but christ, aye, you were good – I think you just came right in. I’m sure you did. D’you remember?
Paul nodded slightly.
I’m sure you just jumped in, and I caught you – d’you remember?
I just want to walk down daddy.
Aw I know, I know. Heh . . . Hines grinned: Watch this. You watching? He waited until the boy had turned enough to see, then he stepped back and sank down onto his knees, the water coming to beyond his shoulders. He laughed and ducked his head under, and out, and stood upright, wiping his eyes and shaking his head.
Paul nodded.
Ya wee mug ye! Okay . . . he smiled. Ready for the next step?
He nodded, glancing round and down; and he glanced at the washroom, at the dressing-cubicles and round to see the opposite end of the pool. The attendant was chatting to a man on the bank there and their voices carried; both were smoking.
Okay son, now you’ve done two steps and there’s only another yin to go and then you’ve got the last.
He had been looking down at his feet; now he glanced to the bar and made to reach it, he gripped it with his left hand, his right turning, keeping a hold on the bank and he was stepping down with his left foot while his right hand came along the edge of the bank in a stuttering movement then off and grabbing for the bar, and as he gripped it his body swung round, his right shoulder bumping against the corner of the tiled wall, he gasped, the water reaching up his back, almost as far as his neck, and his feet walked up the wall; he fixed them against it, his body arching so that the water only reached his waist.
Smashing, that’s smashing Paul, well done.
He laughed; it became a loud shudder, then a shiver.
You didnt even do the steps, you just done the bar straight away, that’s really great.
A man trotted out from the washroom onto the bank and plunged right into the pool causing a huge splash. Paul was clinging to the bar and leaning into the corner, facing out to the dressing-cubicles. Watch this, said Hines, tapping him on the shoulder. And he climbed out and stood on the bank about a yard from him. Right, he said, count to three; then I’ll dive. You’ve got to count but, right? Right, on you go.
He didnt say anything.
Right Paul now, one two three!
One two three.
Four, cried Hines and he dived. He dived to the bottom and twisted, swimming back to the corner underwater, to come out beside him. He laughed and wiped the water from his eyes, shaking his head.
Dont! Paul glared, jerking away from the splashing, almost cracking his head on the edge of the bank.
Now that’s silly, that is silly, you nearly banged your head there.
It’s cold.
It is not cold. Well it is right enough, but just a wee bit, compared to that last time, that last time we were here it was colder. Heh is your feet touching the bottom?
No.
No, christ, that’s good. Heh, listen . . .
Paul had started shivering loudly and rocking up and down to avoid the lapping of the water.
Fine, that’s fine, just keep moving about and you’ll soon get warm, that’s the way; okay now, I’ll just take your hand . . . Okay? ready?
He was staring out into the washroom; an attendant had come along, carrying a pail, whistling as he walked in the direction of a door marked Private. Hines made to take the boy’s hand but he kept his grip on the bar. Okay son, just let it go now . . . He tugged gently.
I dont want to daddy.
Naw it’s okay but I’ll take you, dont worry, I’ll no let you go – heh! you dont think I’m going to let you drown do you! eh? is that what you think! Hines laughed; he applied a bit more pressure to withdraw his hand from the bar. Okay, you ready?
Paul said nothing.
Heh now come on, remember that last time! you jumped right in and I caught you and I was holding you right out christ – you were nearly swimming.
He nodded, maintaining his grip on the bar.
Come on son.
I dont want to daddy.
Ah you’ll be fine. And he covered both the boy’s hands with his own and took them from the bar, lifting him away from the bank and out some ten yards, holding him waist high to the surface. He told him not to kick so much then held him at arms’ length by the hands, and began dipping him down and up a little at a time until eventually the boy wasnt gasping so much. He moved backwards, the momentum carrying Paul close to horizontally; they continued the breadth of the shallow-end and returned, then back and forth.
Sandra h
ad been shopping; she was by the entrance turnstile when they came out, and Hines took some of her bags as they walked to the café. She was cheery, speaking about various things. She had redeemed his suit. In the café they ate bridies and beans accompanied with tea and a glass of orangeade for Paul. She asked if he was still going to the Vale after dropping him off at the nursery but he shook his head, there was no point.
Quite a crowd queued at the bus-stop. Complaints about the time they had been waiting; apparently no buses had passed for half an hour. He brought his tin out to roll a smoke but it was too windy and he returned it into his jerkin pocket. The first bus to arrive continued on beyond the stop, it halted at the traffic lights; the doors opened and three people got down onto the pavement. Those at the bus-stop were indignant. Sandra had grinned and turned away.
Another bus appeared, and behind it another could be seen. More complaints.
Before stepping aboard she gave him the remainder of the shopping bags. They waved to her as the bus moved off from the kerb. The traffic lights were showing green; the bus continued across the junction, round the bend in the road. Hines passed a couple of the lighter bags to the boy while they walked to the nursery. The Supervisor was standing in the corridor when they came to the cloakroom and Hines smiled to her, whispered cheerio to Paul. He rolled a cigarette in the doorway. A group of toddlers and three women approached from the street; he exchanged hellos with them while gathering the shopping bags and working their handles onto his wrists so that his hands were free.
Instead of going home immediately he crossed the road and went into the nearest pub and ordering a pint he walked to a table at the wall and dumped the bags on the floor there. Back at the bar the man serving nodded to him and commented on the weather. Farther along a man named Michie was trying to attract his attention and when Hines acknowledged him with a nod he asked if it was his day-off. Hines smiled and said it was. He borrowed the Daily Record from the barman and took it back to the table; he read it until finishing his pint. A man was coming in as he was going out and held the door for him to pass.
Across the road a woman who lived up the next close asked how Sandra was keeping, she hadnt seen her for ages; she was in a hurry but gave him a cheery goodbye.
Upstairs he dumped the bags on the bed, switched on the television and the gas-fire, made a cup of coffee. The house was tidy. Eventually he dozed. Before leaving to collect Paul he drank another coffee.
At 5.30 he laid out the food. The whiting werent dressed. There was a packet of dressing in the kitchen-cabinet. He washed the potatoes and peeled them, washed them again and dried them. He put the chip-pan on to heat the fat then chipped the potatoes, occasionally whistling. When the last chip was in the pan he put on the shallow-frying pan to heat, put in the fish to cook on a slow gas. He wiped the pull-down section of the kitchen-cabinet, filled the kettle from the tap and set it to boil. Everything was ready by the time her key could be heard in the front door lock.
He had set the table. While Sandra and Paul settled themselves onto their chairs he laid the used utensils in the basin in the sink and added washing-up liquid, he mixed in water from the tap, hot water from the kettle. When he sat down eventually a round cream sponge was lying in the centre of the table. Sandra smiled. Friday night.
Paul’s method of eating fish is not a good one. Hines’ grandfather passed on a better one to himself, his brother and his sister. The portions of fish are forked into the mouth: bones are ejected via the tongue. Hines’ father used to scoff at this method. He preferred not eating fish. He wasted so much time rooting out bones with his knife and fork that it always went cold. Sandra didnt scoff but she preferred taking the bones out beforehand. Paul was following her. Hines had washed his plate and cutlery as well as other utensils before they had finished eating. Laying her cup of tea beside her plate on the table he carried his own to his armchair and sat down. He rolled a cigarette, gazing at the back page of the Evening Times she had brought home. After a time Sandra said, Why dont you go to the Vale Rab? find out what happened.
Ach . . . he shrugged. Then he sniffed. Actually I was thinking of going out; but I thought I would see the auld man.
Is that a good idea?
I’ll be on my best behaviour.
Sandra continued clearing the table. It might be good if we all went – the three of us; it’s a while since we’ve seen them.
He nodded.
We dont have to. It’s just an idea.
Hines shook his head: He’ll no be drinking in the Drum tonight; he’ll be down in Partick, seeing his auld mates.
I thought he’d stopped it?
Nah, you know the way he goes, he takes spells. He’ll be back there for two or three months. And then he’ll get sick of it again, and stay local.
Sandra nodded. Still, she went on, I could go with Paul – I’m sure your mum could do with the company. We could see you later; you and your dad could just come back on the bus together.
Aw aye.
You dont fancy it?
Naw it’s no that; it just seems a lot of bother.
Mm.
D’you fancy it yourself?
Not really. I just thought . . . She had poured him a second cup of tea. While handing it to him she smiled, I only suggested it because I thought it was a good idea. It’s not important, it’s just we havent seen them for a while. And I know the way you and him end up after a drink.
Healthy discussions!
Ha ha. As she sat down she added, I thought you would’ve been going to the Vale if you’d been going anywhere.
Ah well aye, to be honest, I was thinking I might head along there if the auld man wasnt to be found. He reached for the tobacco tin. Paul was laughing at something on television. A comedy programme. How was work by the way?
Sandra drew him a look.
Naw, I’m genuinely interested.
Well if you must know we were busy. By the way, Jean was asking if you were coming to the Christmas-do this year.
Was she?
Yes.
Hh.
Sandra smiled. Seriously Rab, I’d like you to come.
Aw christ.
You dont have to.
Naw, it’s no that Sandra I just eh . . . he made a face.
Paul laughed again. The three of them watched the programme for a period. Hines brought over his piece of sponge cake and ate it. He lifted the cigarette he had rolled from the top of his tin, and struck a match. When he exhaled he said, I’m going in for my shift the morrow morning. I’ve been thinking about it, it’d be daft no working the week’s notice.
Sandra was looking at him.
Naw, I was just eh – I think it’d be daft. The cash and that I mean I’ll be barred off the broo for 6 weeks and they’ll send me up the S.S. And the money you’re making, they’ll just deduct it; so that’ll be us, getting the absolute minimum. With Christmas coming up and the rest of it, he shook his head, we’ll need the dough; that extra week’ll make the difference. No think so?
She nodded.
It’s a late week starting Sunday. He grinned. So I’ll no be sleeping in. And no signing-off sick, I promise! Naw Sandra, it’ll mean a full week’s wages; plus with the Sunday and then next Saturday being a backshift, an additional 8 hours money. It’ll help tide us over.
After a moment she said. It’s your decision Rab.
Aw aye I know. He nodded. I know it is; naw, I just think it’d be daft not to.
Do you think they’ll let you?
What d’you mean?
I thought you just walked out.
Aye . . . he leaned to flick ash into the ashtray.
Paul got up from the floor, he left the kitchen. The lavatory door opening and the click of the light switch.
Sandra was gazing at the television.
Hines coughed slightly, inhaled on the cigarette. His face screwed up as he exhaled. I’m trying to remember what exactly I said, when I was in with McGilvaray – I mean I said I was resigning but I do
nt think I said anything more than that. I didnt actually say I was chucking it on the spot, I just eh . . . he sniffed and sat back on the armchair. He reached for his tea; it was lukewarm and he drank it all.
Paul came in. He knelt on his spot on the floor.
Then Sandra was looking at Hines, her eyebrows rose a moment and she smiled, then she looked back at the television.
About twenty minutes later he was shaved and wearing his suit, had a shirt on beneath his jersey. He walked downstairs, paused at the front of the close. Rain was falling steadily but not too heavily. He buttoned his jacket, upturning the lapels and collar, stepped out to the right, keeping tight into the wall of the tenement. Round the corner he began trotting, on beyond the stop for buses to the garage. It was a blue bus he boarded, he was going to Drumchapel.
Apart from the clusters of boys and girls hanging around in doorways the shopping centre was deserted. During the bus journey the rain had become heavier, then sleet. Outside the pub he unbuttoned his jacket and shook himself, using the sleeve to dry his face and forehead.
A blast of hot air when he entered, from a fan above the door. There was a space at the head of the bar directly beneath a colour television set which was attached to the wall: an old man had his elbow on the counter; he clutched a half-pint glass of beer, staring up at it; and he had to shift his position for Hines, his head twisting sideways so he could continue viewing.
Quite a few barmen served and soon he had a pint; he moved out from the space and stood as though he too was watching television. Later he bought another pint and walked towards the far end of the pub where a large group gathered about a darts board. At one of the tables near to here Frank was sitting but at another table sat a man and woman he recognised, they lived up the hill and were acquainted with his parents. He went over to chat with them, he stayed for several minutes.
At the other table Frank introduced him to the company. He did know some of the faces and it turned out a couple had been to school with Andy while somebody else was wanting to know where Barbara was staying these days. Then Frank began speaking, talking about the old days, the carry-ons they used to get up to in the classroom along with Griff and Milligan and the rest, those long walks they used to go during the summer holidays – that time somebody stole his maw’s frying pan and they cooked eggs but they stuck to the bottom cause there wasnt any lard.