A Chancer

by Kelman, James

After a pause Donnie said: Watch closely. And pulling back his arm, he took aim with the pint glass and then heaved it against the wall opposite.

  One of the waitresses screamed.

  Donnie was grabbing for one of the carry-out bags of beer from below the table and racing for the exit. The sound of voices and a door slamming shut. Then the other four were onto their feet and lifting the other carry-out bag and running after him. Out on the pavement they ran to the left side of the building, down a lane of cobbled stones, their footsteps echoing round the high tenement buildings. Donnie was standing at the end of it, waving them on, one arm clutching the carry-out bag against his chest. He roared a laugh and then set off running once more.

  •••

  It was Margaret, calling him and chapping the door. He turned onto his side, tugging the quilt to his chin. She was telling him tea was ready. Okay, he said. And once she returned along the lobby he got up off the bed. He sat on the edge for several moments, eyelids closed. He yawned and looked about for his socks; they were lying beside his shoes on the floor and he pulled them on. He was already wearing his jeans and a tee shirt. He put on a jersey, glanced at the top of the cupboard; a box of matches lying by itself next to the alarm clock.

  In the washroom he doused his face and neck with cold water and grunted while towelling himself dry.

  She was dishing out the food onto the three plates when he went ben the kitchen. He sniffed and sighed.

  She muttered, Flatterer.

  Naw, he said, honest – it smells great.

  Tch!

  He grinned; and when she had finished he lifted two of the plates, carried them into the front room. The television was on, the volume down low. Robert was reading a paper.

  The three of them ate in silence, gazing at the news programme.

  Robert made as though to collect in the empty plates afterwards but Tammas was up from the settee immediately. I’ll do it, he said. Smashing dinner Margaret!

  It was! grinned Robert.

  No that good.

  Aye it was, honest.

  God, she said, the two of yous’re at it next.

  Tammas was switching on the transistor radio while closing the kitchen door. He filled a kettle and set it to boil, arranged the crockery and cutlery in the washing-up bowl.

  When he had cleaned and dried everything, and generally tidied the kitchen he returned to the front room with a book he had been reading earlier. The television was being watched by Margaret and Robert. A quiz programme. Eventually Robert said to him: I know what it is now! Go on the broo and stop smoking!

  Tammas glanced at him, then he smiled briefly.

  You should be encouraging him, said Margaret.

  I am! He’s doing terrific!

  Are you trying to stop smoking right enough? she asked.

  Aye, a bit.

  A bit?

  He shrugged turned a page in the book.

  Start training and get back into the football, said Robert. He smiled. So where is it the night anyway?

  Tammas gestured at the television.

  On a Friday night!

  Tammas grinned.

  Heaven sake man you’re letting the side down! A Friday night and you’re staying in! What are you married or something!

  Hh! Margaret turned her head from him. Chauvinist pig! She leaned across and punched his shoulder.

  That’s sore!

  She chuckled, getting up from her chair; and she walked out the room. Robert glanced at Tammas: You staying in right enough.

  Aye.

  Robert nodded. He shifted on his chair, put his hand into his hip pocket, and brought out a small wad and rapidly peeled off two single £1’s. Here, take it quick.

  Tammas hesitated.

  Come on, before your sister gets back.

  Tammas took the money. Thanks.

  •••

  The bank had reached five winning coups and the man holding it nodded at the dealer then proceeded to withdraw all the money lying. He folded it neatly away and rose from his seat. He nodded again, before leaving the gaming room.

  The dealer smiled and shook his head, tapped his fingers on the edge of the horseshoe table. What d’you make of that Deefy?

  Deefy nodded.

  An elderly guy who was sitting to the side said, The cunt’s a millionaire too. I dont think I’ve ever seen him lose.

  He’s no skint anyhow! muttered another punter.

  The dealer was sitting back on his chair and he yawned and then stretched. Never mind, he said, an early bath’ll do us all a bit of good.

  That us finished? frowned a man.

  How, are you wanting to take the new bank?

  It’s a winner!

  I know it’s a winner, put your money in.

  The man sniffed and looked away.

  Anybody else? asked the dealer, and he looked about at the others. Most of those left in the room had been spectating for the past half hour or so. The dealer’s gaze settled on Tammas for a moment.

  Tammas shook his head. Then he got up and walked through into the snacks’ room and ordered a roll and sausage and a cup of tea. He was eating it while reading tomorrow morning’s Daily Record, when Deefy sat down at his table. After a moment he said to Tammas: How d’you do son, alright?

  Couple of quid I won.

  Good.

  Want a cup of tea or something?

  Deefy looked at him.

  A cup of tea?

  Naw son, no me.

  Tammas nodded, he drank a mouthful of his own tea and added: I was thinking of taking a walk up the Royal, see if there’s anything doing.

  The Royal. They’ll be playing poker.

  Aye, I was thinking of taking a walk up.

  Deefy nodded.

  Fancy coming along?

  Aye, no bother son. Deefy patted the tie he was wearing. You okay? Will I get you one?

  Ta, aye.

  I’ll get you one. Deefy glanced about at the folk in the room and stood up.

  Tammas ate the last piece of food, swallowed the last of his tea.

  Outside in the lane frost glinted on the brickwork and close in at the foot of the walls white showed on the tips of some weeds. Deefy tugged the hat down onto his ears and adjusted a woollen scarf about his neck. You’d think it was the winter already, he grunted.

  Tammas nodded, upturning the collar and lapels of his jacket.

  At the Royal the doorman greeted Deefy and allowed them both entry without mention of signing the book. The casino was almost empty. But there was a small crowd gathered at the barrier round the poker table. Joe was one of the players. The man called Stan was not amongst the spectators. Tammas glanced to the side, then he left Deefy talking to the doorman. He lighted a cigarette before walking slowly along and into the coffee lounge. And Vi was here.

  She was with Milly; they were at a table nearby the door. Milly looked to be dozing. Tammas approached the counter, looking to where the woman would stand who usually served behind it. Then he said, Hullo – I didnt expect to see you here the night. He inhaled on the cigarette and smiled briefly, glanced back across the counter.

  Vi had clicked open her handbag. She took out a cigarette.

  I never saw that guy, Stan.

  Did you no. That’s because he’s no here.

  Mm. He never came?

  No.

  He nodded, he glanced back across the counter then shrugged and he walked to her table, nodded at an empty chair, and sat down on it.

  Sit down, she said.

  What?

  I said sit down, on the chair.

  He nodded, sniffed, inhaled on the cigarette. Milly had opened her eyelids. It’s you, she murmured.

  Tammas smiled. Hullo.

  She blinked at him.

  Did you win at roulette?

  Me?

  Aye, did you win?

  Milly sighed and said to Vi: Give us a fag hen.

  Vi gave her the packet and she extracted one. Tammas had the matches out
and he struck one for her. She accepted the light without comment. She glanced at Vi: I’m away to see how Joe’s getting on.

  Vi made no response.

  Tammas watched Milly leave, closing the door behind herself. After a moment he inhaled deeply, looked over to the counter. He coughed slightly, cleared his throat.

  Vi said, I’m going home.

  You’re going home?

  That’s what I said.

  He stared at her.

  She returned the stare. I dont want to keep you from the cards.

  He nodded. I’m no bothering – the cards, I’m no bothering. Poker and that . . . he shrugged: You need a score to sit in. I’m short of a couple of quid.

  O, sorry.

  What?

  I said sorry. O God! Vi shook her head and she clasped her handbag to her side and got up from her chair.

  You definitely going home the now?

  Yes.

  Christ Vi. You take the needle hell of a quick.

  Well no wonder, your stupid bloody questions!

  Tammas began rising from his chair. Vi had walked to the door. She tugged on the handle and opened it and walked out, She crossed to where Milly was standing and she whispered something to her. Tammas waited by the coffee lounge entrance for her. He followed her through to the wee cloakroom where she lifted a barrier to collect her own coat. Glancing to the side she muttered, What do you want?

  He looked at her.

  I said what do you want?

  What do I want, nothing. I’ll see you to the taxi.

  What taxi?

  Are you no getting a taxi?

  She made no reply, pulling on her coat and adjusting her hair while gazing into a large mirror on the wall.

  I’ll get you a taxi, he said.

  You neednt bother.

  Look Vi . . .

  Look yourself.

  He went after her, meeting the doorman in the lobby. He nodded to him, continued on downstairs.

  On the pavement Vi was waving down a taxi and he arrived in time to open the door for her. She got in without looking at him. When he made to follow she held her arm up and frowned at him: Where d’you think you’re going?

  Can I no get seeing you home like?

  Tch! She shook her head.

  The driver called: Where to?

  Hang on a minute, said Tammas. Look Vi . . .

  O look yourself!

  Come on . . .

  Come on what!

  Hey jimmy! The driver was frowning at him: You annoying the lassie?

  Naw. He sniffed and then stepped inside, sitting down beside her.

  The driver was waiting.

  Eh Vi, going to tell the fellow the address?

  She said nothing.

  Come on Vi.

  She shifted on the seat, stared out the window.

  The driver said, You okay hen?

  She turned, puffed on her cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray. Then she cleared her throat and gave him the destination. The journey took more than ten minutes. Nothing was said during it. Tammas sat gazing out the near window. Occasionally he noticed the driver watching him in the rear mirror. At her closemouth he tipped the driver before following her in and upstairs; she lived on the second top storey. She muttered unintelligibly while fumbling on the front door key. Neither had spoken to the other since leaving the taxi. But now, with the door ajar, she glanced at him. She said: I told you no to come.

  He nodded then shrugged and about turned. The door did not shut immediately, not until he had reached the first landing. And he paused a moment before carrying on down the stairs and out through the close.

  The south side of the city was unfamiliar to him. Aside from the name of the main road he recognised nothing. He walked quickly. The windscreens of parked cars had frosted over and his breath came out in puffs of steam. In a gap site piles of rubble and different stuff had been heaped as though for a bonfire and the frost showed on the edges of it. He halted at a doorway to light a cigarette. Then the sound of a taxi approaching.

  •••

  McCann was crossing the road, glancing sideways and moving quickly to avoid a big lorry. Reaching the pavement he brushed the sides of his trousers, shaking his head and gazing after it. These bastards try to splash you! he cried.

  Tammas nodded.

  They walked on together, detouring to the corner of the street where Billy lived. While they were standing waiting McCann asked, Any fags?

  Naw . . . Tammas brought a cigarette dowp out from behind his ear. This is to last me till Christmas.

  McCann smiled. That wife of mine’s, she’s started hiding her handbag!

  Another five minutes passed before Billy appeared. They strode along the main road, pausing occasionally to look in at the displays in shop windows. It was Billy stopped at the jeweller’s. Still there, he said, pointing to a gold watch with a white face and black Roman numerals.

  Billy! McCann shook his head. D’you think there’s only one of the fuckers! Christ almighty, they’ll have half a hundred of them through in the back shop.

  What?

  They’ll just take a fresh yin out whenever some cunt buys one.

  Hh.

  Maybe no, said Tammas. A lot of jewellers like just to have a couple of things at once.

  McCann was about to reply but his attention was attracted elsewhere, and he muttered, See yous in a minute . . . He crossed over the road, watched by the other two. He approached a man and woman who were standing outside the post office.

  He’ll be trying to tap them, said Billy.

  Tammas nodded.

  McCann and the pair were chatting now and the other man could be seen laughing at something said by him and then putting his arm round the woman’s shoulders.

  Tammas said, Come on.

  They started walking, halted about fifty yards farther on, at a corner beside a pub. Tammas took the dowp from behind his ear and struck the match, got it going. Billy asked, Give us a drag man?

  Tammas gave him it.

  Billy dragged twice on it and returned it. See the results at Shawfield last night?

  Naw, no yet.

  Only two favourites. Punters must’ve took a hammering.

  Maybe.

  No think so?

  Depends.

  Billy nodded.

  McCann was walking along on the pavement opposite now.

  When he made the crossing he did so without looking in their direction. The other two fell into step with him. He winked and led them into the next tobacconist’s. Billy laughed: You’re a genius.

  Think nothing of it, replied McCann.

  After signing on they headed round to the job centre but Tammas halted at the entrance. See yous later . . .

  What d’you mean? asked Billy.

  I’ll see yous later.

  Where you off to?

  Just a message.

  Aw aye . . . Billy glanced at McCann.

  Look, said Tammas, and he smiled, held his hands palms upward. I’m away to see if I can get a few bob. If I can I’ll fucking send you a postcard, alright!

  No want us to come with you?

  Naw, best no.

  Billy shrugged.

  Just as he was about to walk off McCann brought his cigarettes out and gave him one. Hope you’re lucky!

  Tammas grinned. Ta.

  A few guys in boilersuits were standing about talking together at the junction of the main road and the street leading up to the factory. He recognised a couple of faces but made no acknowledgments. He stood with his back to the wall of the pub for a time. Eventually he entered. A man stared at him and smiled: How’s it going? You got a job yet?

  Naw, said Tammas.

  Through in the lounge he spotted Murdie immediately; he was sitting at a table with another man towards the rear of the room. Tammas, he said. He looked at his companion: Mind Tammas?

  Aye. How’s it going Tammas?

  Ah no bad.

  Take a seat.

 
Naw, no got much eh . . . I just come in when I was passing and that – Murdie. That message? Mind?

  O aye. Murdie nodded.

  Can I see you about it?

  Outside! grinned Murdie.

  Naw, I dont eh . . . Tammas sniffed: Just for a minute.

  Actually, said the other man, I’ve got to go for a slash.

  Tammas sat down as soon as he had gone.

  Want a fag? said Murdie, opening the packet and giving him one.

  It’s that twenty quid man. Tammas paused, accepting a light. He exhaled smoke.

  Murdie was shaking his head. I know. I’ve been meaning to fucking weigh you in long before this. But listen Tammas dont fucking worry about it I mean at least you know you’ll get it.

  Tammas nodded.

  I mean I gave you that tenner.

  Murdie that was fucking ages ago. Aye, I know, Christ.

  I mean I’m right out the fucking game man . . . Tammas sniffed and stared at the table.

  Murdie sipped at his beer and grimaced. Tammas, he said, I’ve got three fucking weans. Christmas is coming – know what I mean?

  Tammas frowned at him then glanced away. He had noticed the other man coming from the lavatory.

  Murdie was saying: I know it’s out of order but what can I do? I’m owing half the wages this week as it is. I mean I’m no kidding you. I was up at that chemmy a couple of week ago and took a right fucking hammering.

  Tammas looked at him.

  Honest.

  When am I going to get it then?

  Soon.

  Soon! Tammas shook his head, inhaled on the cigarette.

  At least you know I’ll give you it.

  Hh.

  The other man was returning. Tammas got up and moved out from the table. Murdie asked, Have you seen auld Ralphie?

  Tammas made no reply. The other man had sat down and was sipping beer. Murdie continued: He was talking about you the other day, wondering how you were getting on and all that.

  Tammas nodded.

  I’ll tell him I saw you.

  The other man gestured at the pint of beer he was holding: You no having one yourself?

  Naw, said Tammas.

  •••

  He blinked and shielded his eyes from the glare of the electric light. The book he had been reading lay closed; it dropped into the hollow left by his elbow and he raised himself to see the time. It was just after 3 am. He got off the bed.

  Rain was falling. He stared out the window, watching some of it gather in a puddle on the ledge. He drew the curtains, went to the bathroom and to the kitchen. He filled a kettle to make tea and put on the grill, toasted a couple of slices of bread. When it was prepared he returned with it to the bedroom and got undressed and into bed. He had a cushion which he packed in beneath his pillow, opened his book at the page he had left off reading earlier. Then he reached for a slice of toast.