A Chancer

by Kelman, James

  •••

  After he had cashed the giro he went home and reckoned out the money, leaving different sums arrayed on top of the bedside cupboard. He took enough for a couple of pints and a game of dominoes. About 1 o’clock he was involved with Brian McCann and some others in a game of knockout when Phil from the betting shop came in. He waved Tammas over.

  They exchanged hullos. Phil went on, Quite a decent boy that nephew of mine; he lets me skip out for a half now and again! He smiled and sipped at his whisky, and added, You’re looking a bit healthier than the last time I was in here.

  Tammas grinned, indicated the whisky: Want another yin?

  Naw son I’ll no bother – got to keep the head clear. He drank the rest of his whisky. Then he cleared his throat and lowered his voice while saying: The 6th son, keep your eye on the 3 dog.

  Tammas frowned slightly.

  I’m talking about this afternoon’s card. 6th race trap 3 – at least you’ll know it’s been trying . . . Phil patted him on the side of the shoulder.

  Christ, Phil, thanks.

  It’s no problem son. And by the bye, I dont have to tell you . . . He tapped the side of his head: Say nothing.

  Tammas nodded.

  O and son . . . Phil smiled: Mind and bet it in another bloody shop.

  He returned to the domino game when the elderly man had gone. McCann was looking at him. One of the others said, A nice auld guy that.

  Phil, aye. Tammas nodded.

  He played one more game of knockout before leaving the pub. Upstairs in his bedroom he collected all the money from the top of the cupboard. He travelled by bus to the bookmaker’s Billy worked in. The closing stage of a horse race was in progress when he arrived, a neck and neck struggle developing between the favourite and a big outsider. The shop was very busy. As the big outsider began to forge ahead on the run to the line the muttering from the punters became an angry outburst. Up on the passageway beneath the boards Billy was standing waiting to mark up the returned odds; he was shaking his head. Down below a punter was calling to him: These results are fucking out of order!

  Billy nodded. When he saw Tammas he grinned then shook his head again.

  Tammas stood to the side. He kept the wad of notes in his pocket right through the remainder of the horse racing programme and on to the 6th dog race. He told Billy of the tip. But Billy was skint; he already owed half the week’s wages. Tammas loaned him £4 to make the bet. This reduced his own to £16, but dog 3 won the race at 7/2 and his return amounted to £72.00 less tax. Once he had been paid he remained near to the pay-out window, leaning on a ledge, gazing at the formpages. Billy signalled him over and handed him his betting receipt without a word. Tammas stared at it. He had not bet dog 3 as a single bet. Billy had wagered the £4 he had given him on a losing forecast.

  After the last race he helped him sweep the floor and generally clean the premises up. Then they went by bus to Simpson’s. It was just on 5.30 pm and quite empty. They carried their pints to a table near the darts’ area.

  Fancy a game? said Billy.

  Cant be bothered. Tammas peeled the cellophane off the new packet of cigarettes, gave one to him. They sat without speaking for a time. Tammas had a morning newspaper and he brought it out, began reading. Eventually Billy asked, You going to Shawfield the morrow night?

  Naw.

  With that wad in your pocket! Billy grinned. You sure!

  Tammas sniffed. What about you, are you going?

  Me! Naw . . . I’m skint man.

  I know, I know you’re skint.

  Billy looked at him for a moment. Hazards of the job. Ever hear of a rich boardman!

  Tammas did not answer. He continued to read the newspaper. Soon he folded it up again. He laid it on the table and drank a large mouthful of beer, shifted position on the seat so that he was facing the television screen.

  Billy said: What’s up?

  What’s up? Fuck all’s up.

  Aye there is.

  Tammas shrugged.

  Is it because I backed that forecast?

  What?

  Nothing. Billy inhaled deeply and he blew out smoke at the ceiling. Then he stared in the direction of the television.

  The first time auld Phil’s ever gave out a tip and you’ve got to go and fucking blow it man. I mean the first time he’s ever . . . !

  Ach I get tips every day of the week in that fucking job.

  No from auld Phil you dont.

  Billy closed his mouth tightly and he sighed. He dragged on the cigarette, began drumming his fingers on the edge of the table, staring at the television.

  I want to ask you a question Billy, straight: when did you last get a turn?

  What? Billy frowned at him.

  A turn, when did you last get a turn? I mean you must be the only cunt in Glasgow that never fucking gets one. I mean never! You never fucking win! When did you last win?

  Billy lifted his pint glass and sipped from the beer.

  What I mean man Christ! that was a good tip, a good fucking tip.

  Aye cause it won.

  Aye cause it fucking won, aye. Auld fucking Phil gave us it man. I mean I went all the way out to fucking give you it. I gave you four quid. You were skint. And then you turned round and bet a forecast, a stupid fucking forecast. I mean Billy I brought out the dough to bet the one dog, just that one.

  I’ll give you it fucking back.

  That’s no the point but.

  Billy swivelled round on his seat and cried, Will you give us a break eh! He shook his head and swivelled back again.

  Tammas continued to sit for a few moments. Eventually he muttered, I’m away up for my tea.

  Billy did not respond.

  •••

  The Royal was crowded approaching 1.30 am and being a Saturday night the casino would have to shut its doors at 2 o’clock; but the poker would continue in a private room. The roulette and blackjack tables were all in use and there was a small crowd round the craps game. Tammas walked on through to the coffee lounge. He sat at an empty table with the following morning’s Sunday Mail. On an inside page at the back he found a tiny report on the match Rab had been playing that afternoon though apart from the team list his name was not mentioned.

  I thought it was you!

  Tammas glanced up, grinning when he saw Joe coming towards him. Hullo Joe, how’s it going?

  Here! What you been doing to that wee lassie?

  What . . .

  Joe had sat down facing him, and he chuckled. I dont think I’ve ever seen her in a bloody casino as much in my life! About three weeks on the trot she’s been here! Did you no see her?

  Naw but I’ve no really been through yet.

  Joe grinned.

  Tammas peered in the direction of the gaming section.

  She’s at the roulette with Milly. And I’ll tell you something son; never teach a woman how to gamble unless you’re a masochist cause they’ll ruin you! No kidding!

  Tammas offered him a cigarette but he declined. I’m trying to stop it, he said, a couple of cigars a day I’m down to. It’s bad for you ye know!

  Tammas grinned, but he shut the packet without taking one for himself. He tapped the junior match report and turned the page for Joe to see. That’s a mate of mine Joe – McCorquodale – he’s just signed senior with an English team.

  Aw great – that’s smashing! Get him away from this place eh!

  Hull City.

  Joe nodded. Great.

  Tammas turned the newspaper back round and after a moment he asked, What time’ll the poker be starting?

  Directly. How? D’you fancy your chances?

  Eh . . .

  Have you ever sat down before like?

  Naw, no in here. I used to play at work sometimes – plus with the mates and that.

  Aye but it’s not quite the same thing son. And it’s stud they play here as well remember.

  I know.

  Mm. Joe nodded, then indicated his wristwatch. Okay, we
ll, if you are wanting a seat you better be smartly out the boxes cause there might be a rush! Joe had risen from his seat while talking and as he turned to leave he added: By the way, what age are you?

  What age? Me?

  Aye.

  Tammas nodded. Twenty two.

  Twenty two. Aye, that’s about what I thought you’d be. Joe smiled.

  Once he had gone Tammas got up and purchased a cup of coffee. He opened the cigarette packet, thumbed through the newspaper. About five minutes later Vi appeared in the doorway. He watched her approach. She was showing him something in her right hand – a big pile of casino chips, which she placed untidily on the table in front of him. Count them for me, she said.

  He did so immediately. Twenty one quid. Christ sake Vi you’ve done great. Much did you start with?

  She shrugged. It’s all winnings. Plus I gave Milly five pounds.

  Hh. Christ! He grinned, then pushed the coffee towards her: I just got this for myself but I’m no really thirsty.

  Neither am I.

  Aw. He nodded, took two cigarettes out and gave one to her; he struck a match and she leaned to take a light from its flame. And she asked: Did you get home alright the other time?

  The other time?

  You were away so bloody fast! I didnt even know if you had enough for a taxi.

  I did. Hey d’you fancy something to eat?

  I’m no hungry at all. You do if you want but, you get something.

  I’m no bothering. But I mean if you wanted something . . . He shrugged.

  I dont, thanks.

  Mm. He sniffed, dragged on the cigarette and exhaled at the floor.

  Are you playing poker the night?

  Ah I’m no sure.

  Joe says you carry a bit of luck.

  Does he?

  Aye.

  Honest?

  Vi nodded. She lifted her handbag onto her lap and opened it, and footered with something inside.

  Actually I was going to play – give it a try anyway.

  He says it’s quite hard, Joe – a lot of good players.

  Hh.

  It’ll be right if Joe says it.

  O aye I know, I wasnt meaning that I just – it doesnt really matter if I go skint, I’m no really worried.

  Vi looked at him.

  He sniffed, inhaled on his cigarette. What I mean is that I’ve got enough to lose without worrying about it.

  She shrugged slightly, gazed back down into her handbag.

  I’m no actually bothered anyway. About playing I mean.

  Vi’s cigarette had been smouldering on the edge of the ashtray and when she lifted it a length of grey ash remained behind. She glanced at him and then across at the counter.

  D’you fancy going like?

  What d’you say?

  Tammas shrugged. I was just wondering, whether you fancy just going, just now I mean.

  Vi made no answer.

  Is that guy Stan with you?

  No.

  Good then I could see you home. Eh? Eh Vi?

  She shrugged.

  Can I see you home?

  If you like.

  •••

  With the door unlocked she paused before pushing it open and stepping inside, into a tiny lobby. She waited until he was beside her then put on the light, closed and locked the door. He followed her into a room; it was a kitchen, with a bed in a wall recess. There were a small table with two wooden chairs, a two-seater settee and a television set on its own legs.

  Vi filled a kettle at the sink, switched on the electric cooker and put the kettle on a ring.

  On the bed, at the foot of it, sat a big doll and a weer one. Other toys were on the floor to the side of the fireplace. Things belonging to a girl. On the mantelpiece was a photograph of a baby in a sort of babychair.

  Vi had switched on the electric fire and was now preparing two mugs of coffee. Tammas was sitting on the edge of the settee, he turned to say: Does she sleep ben the room? the wee lassie?

  Vi frowned. Ben what room! Anyhow, d’you really think I’d leave her by herself while I was away out gallivanting?

  He nodded.

  She passed him a mug of coffee and came round to sit down on the other side of the settee, putting the mug down on the floor. She kicked off her shoes and reached to massage her toes. She’s across the landing . . . In with Cathy, my neighbour.

  Aw aye.

  In fact, I think I better go in and see how she is. Vi pulled a pair of slippers from beneath the settee and she slipped them on. She took a key from the mantelpiece. I’ll just be a minute.

  Fine, aye.

  When she had gone he took off his jacket and then took off his shoes, and he lighted a cigarette, stretched his legs so that his feet were just to the front of the fire. Then he nipped the cigarette into an ashtray. His coffee was untouched. He carried it to the sink and emptied it down the drain. Back on the settee he put a cushion in at the small of his back and he stretched out once more.

  It was nearly half an hour she was gone. He heard the outside door being unlocked, opened, closing and being locked again; all very quietly. Vi entered. He had his eyelids shut and he did not move. She waited by the door for a long time. She came forwards, very quietly. Another few seconds and she began humming a tune, began moving about the room. On two occasions he was aware of a breeze when she passed close bye, her skirt perhaps.

  Then the click of the light switch and he opened his eyelids. He could hear her undressing behind the settee. And then the mattress jolting. And after she had settled he listened to her breathing, irregular at first.

  When he awakened he felt really stiff, his shoulders and neck and legs all cramped. And he had been lying on his cigarette packet. He leaned to turn off the electric fire, sitting until the bars stopped glowing. He lifted the half cigarette from the ashtray and found his matches on the floor. He did not smoke it. He knelt on the floor and stared across at the bed. Vi’s shape was easily recognisable though he could not hear her breathing. He stood up.

  She was on her back, and the shape of her breasts, rise falling pause, rise falling pause. She lay close in to the wall. After a moment he returned to between the fire and the settee and he took off his clothes but left on his underpants. At the bedside he raised the blankets and the sheet very carefully, very slowly, until there was enough space for him to climb inside. He lay on his back close to the edge without moving for a period, gradually inclining his head in her direction, becoming more aware of her warmth, a smell of perfume or soap. Then he turned a little, to touch her shoulder with his left hand, the material of her nightdress nudging his forefingernail.

  He watched her and listened but except for her breathing there was neither sound nor movement. She was asleep. He kept on watching her.

  The next he woke up the kettle was boiling, whistling; and the smell of bread toasting beneath the grill. He lay in the same position as he had awakened, watching her. She did not notice. He continued to watch her for a wee while then he said, Hullo Vi. And he raised himself up to rest on his elbows.

  She poked her tongue out at him, turned to check the toast. He grinned and got out of bed. About time too, she said and she glanced at him, and glanced away immediately. He had an erection. He coughed and grabbed his trousers, pulled them on at once and went ben the lavatory. He pissed eventually but got another erection. After a moment he took out the wad of notes from his hip pocket and he counted it, studied the numbers of each one.

  When he returned to the kitchen she was sitting on the settee munching a slice of toast. Yours is under the grill, she told him. Tea’s in the pot – unless you want a coffee . . .

  Doesnt matter, thanks; tea’s great. He lifted his shirt from the wooden chair and took it with him to the sink. He washed his hands and face and neck. There was a mirror to the side. When he glanced in it he saw Vi looking at him. Then she looked away. He smoothed his hair down with his hands. What time is it? he asked.

  Ten, about.

  Is
that all. That’s good. He had turned to the oven, bending slightly to pull out the grill-pan. It made a sort of grating noise.

  Vi smiled at him for a moment then she looked at the fire.

  He put the toast back down. He stepped towards her and he took both of her hands in his and leaned to her but she rose from the settee. They put their arms round each other, clinging together, then he kissed her neck, and upwards to the lobe of her ear, and she moved her head a little, till they were kissing each other’s lips; then they broke away and clung with their arms round each other again and Vi chuckled.

  Vi, he said. He sighed and lifted her up off the floor, walked forwards still holding her.

  Put me down, she said and she had to raise her feet to avoid kicking something.

  He laughed but continued towards the recess and as she toppled onto the bed he went with her, landing almost on top of her and they were kissing again. She arched her back from him when he attempted to unloosen the strap of her bra but tugged her jumper back down when he pulled it up. She pushed him from her and he stood down. It’s okay, she said. Just . . . we’ll go into bed first.

  Aw, Christ. He shook his head and turned away. She had begun to tug the jumper over her head, the bra cups lying half off her breasts.

  I dont mind you looking, she muttered.

  He shook his head. Then he glanced at her.

  •••

  The Art Gallery & Museum would not be opening for another hour. They walked on round the building and along behind the bowling green, across Kelvin Way and into the park. They walked down by the river. The trees were bare and the river was quite swollen. Keeps the smell down, said Tammas. Gets hell of a pongy in the summer. Hey, come on up the duck pond and I’ll show you the rats!

  Vi laughed.

  The child’s name was Kirsty. When they arrived at the pond Tammas lifted her down from Vi’s arms and he held her so that she was sitting on the bevelled railing surrounding the bank of the pond. He squatted next to her, pointing at the island: Under the bushes there Kirsty, just watch under the bushes, just at the edge. You as well Vi.