He was walking in the direction of his own street but he remained on the main road and he walked back up the town and into a picture house.
•••
A couple of girls glanced at him. At the counter he ordered a roll and sausage and a cup of tea, and was given the tea immediately. He sat at one of the empty tables. There were four girls in the room, sitting beside each other. A man was snoring at another table, his head cradled on his crossed forearms, snoring quietly. Otherwise the club was deserted, the room where the chemmy took place in total darkness. He lighted a cigarette and stood up, and said to the girls: Fancy the telly on?
If you like.
He pulled a chair to the side of the counter and climbed onto it, reaching to switch it on. Later the woman came from the kitchen with his roll and sausage; he ordered another tea.
A play had begun on the television and he was watching it along with the girls and the woman. The doorbell rang. It rang again and the woman muttered, Tch, bloody door . . . And she left to answer it. Moments afterwards she was followed in by four men, two going straight into the card room and then the kitchen. One of the other two said: Anybody seen Frank Callaghan?
No one replied. Tammas and the four girls continued staring at the television screen; the man at the table was still asleep, still snoring.
The other two men came from the kitchen with the woman. They had been speaking with her and now they walked back out again, going quite quickly. The one who was talking said to Tammas, How long you been here son?
About an hour.
The man sniffed and nodded. When did Frank go out?
Tammas shrugged.
He was here but?
I dont know.
The man took a handkerchief from his pocket and he blew his nose. He said to the girls: What about yous – you seen him?
No, replied one.
Then the man glanced at Tammas again: You a member of this club?
Who me? aye.
Glad to hear it. The man nodded, then nodded at his companion. He indicated the guy who was asleep, pursed his lips and shook his head. A moment later they had gone.
One of the girls called: That’s Frank then Alice eh!
The woman behind the counter nodded in reply. She was smoking a cigarette, holding it to her mouth in her right hand, her left forearm resting beneath her breasts. She stared at the television. But suddenly she moved: she shook her head and she stuck the cigarette into her mouth and she turned and said, I’m bloody sick of this. She strode round into the room and over to the man at the table, shook him by the shoulder. Away you go, she said, I’m sick of your damn snoring.
What . . .
Away you go!
Aw Alice . . .
No aw Alice – away you go bloody home.
Will you no give us a coffee? As he spoke the man had half risen from the chair, balancing himself against the edge of the table and moving in a sort of circular fashion. The woman was about to say something but the phone rang and she went quickly to answer it. Less than two minutes and she appeared in the kitchen doorway. Closing, she said.
The others all looked at her.
Closing, she said, stepping to the counter and lifting a couple of dirty plates; I’m closing for the night.
The man called, No even a coffee for the road Alice?
She glanced at him without speaking and he began grumbling unintelligibly while heading for the exit. And you lot can do the same, she said to Tammas and the four girls.
He followed them, along the corridor and out into the lane. The wind was quite strong and he turned up the lapels of his jacket. At the corner he paused as the girls stopped. Two of them went one way and he walked with the other two the opposite way. I’ll get yous along the road, he said.
Neither answered for several moments, until one replied, It’d be best if you didnt.
O aye, aye, sorry.
Naw, said the girl, shaking her head.
Tammas nodded.
Cheerio.
Aye . . . He smiled and shrugged, walked quickly on by himself.
•••
He was lying full length on the settee, his legs protruding over the end arm; although the television was on at its normal volume he was staring to the side of it, in the direction of the curtains at the windows. The main living room light was off but in addition to the light coming from the screen there was a red glow from the electric fire. He yawned and glanced over the settee at the ashtray on the floor, there was the half of a cigarette lying in it; he picked it out and reached for his matches. He rose when he had it burning, leaving it wedged in the corner of his mouth, and he stared into the mirror above the mantelpiece, the shadows there affecting the way his face looked. Then noises from outside on the landing and he moved rapidly, switching off both the fire and the television, going along and into his own room, clicking shut the door, not putting on the light. It was his sister and brother-in-law. Once they had locked the outside door they went into the front room and then into the kitchen and their own bedroom, back into the kitchen; and the sound of the kettle being filled from the tap, and soon they were in the living room.
Not long afterwards Tammas got up off the bed, he stepped to the window and peered out. Down below the streetlamp lighting showed rain pattering steadily onto the wet tarmac and the concrete paving; it was around 10.30 pm.
•••
Tammas grinned. He shut his eyelids and shook his head, his elbow on the edge of the table and his chin being propped by his hand. He looked at Rab again, and he laughed. The two of them were sitting in the lounge of a pub in the city centre. It was threequarters full and a band was performing, using quite strong amplification. He drank some beer and put the pint back down, leaned slightly nearer to Rab: Next month!
Aye, next month.
To Rena you mean?
Naw, her maw.
Fuck sake! Tammas laughed. He drank more beer, shook his head again. What does your auld man have to say about it?
Fuck him. As long as I dont turn a pape he doesnt give a fuck. And he likes Rena as well – thinks she’s too fucking good for me!
So she is ya cunt! Tammas shook his head once more. Lucky bastard!
Rab grinned.
So you are man!
I’d have been fucking luckier if I’d still been amateur but I mean these cunts’ll be lifting a right few quid out the deal.
Minor matters!
Minor matters?
Well how much are they getting then?
Fucking millions man!
Aye but you’ll no lose on it . . .
Naw. Rab lifted his own pint glass and sipped at his beer.
What about Rena? what does she think about it all?
Okay – her maw and da arent too keen but; they were wanting us to wait until the summer. Far as Rena’s concerned the sooner the better. Me as well man; I just want to get it over and done with and fuck off to England out the road. I wasnt that bothered before, but now . . . !
Tammas nodded.
So will you do it or what?
Aye, course. But I dont know anything about it. I’ve never even fucking been to a wedding before.
Honest?
Naw, Christ, no even as a boy.
Ach – there’s nothing to it; just hand me the ring and make sure I get to the church on time.
Is that all?
Rab nodded: Apart from shagging the bridesmaid!
Tammas laughed.
O . . .
What?
Rab sipped at his beer before saying, She maybe invite Betty for it.
Och away man for fuck sake!
Eh . . .
Honest?
I’m no sure. She’ll definitely be coming but I know that.
Tammas was shaking his head while taking a cigarette out and lighting it.
What can you do I mean she’s Rena’s mate!
I know, Christ, it’s fair enough . . . Tammas exhaled then grinned: Could she no ask that cousin of hers ins
tead?
Wee Julie for fuck sake ya bastard she’s only seventeen!
She’s a woman but!
Rab grinned and shrugged. I’ll see what she says. I know she’s no made up her mind yet anyway.
Tammas nodded. Hey listen man what about your da? have you told him you were going to ask me?
Course.
What did he say?
Who else. He said who else. I told him and he says, Who else! Rab laughed briefly. It’s a love hate relationship yous’ve got.
Aye, he fucking loves to hate me!
Naw, said Rab, reaching for his beer; according to my maw he just worries about you.
Hh!
Seriously.
Aye.
Rab grinned. He gazed round the interior of the lounge and began shaking his head, and he murmured, Years we spent fucking about in Simpson’s man and see when you think about it . . . amazing, how the fuck we ever met a woman I mean, Christ, look at the talent man it’s brilliant, fucking brilliant.
Aye, it’s nice.
What about this new yin you’re winching?
Tammas sniffed.
After a moment Rab said, I mean if you want to bring her then . . .
To the wedding?
Rab shrugged.
I’m no sure.
Well definitely I mean it’ll be alright.
Tammas nodded.
Okay . . . Rab turned abruptly as a waitress walked past: Heh miss! Miss! And when the girl arrived and was standing with her pen and notebook . . . Pint of lager and a pint of heavy. Once she had gone he finished the last of the beer he had and he sighed, glancing across at Tammas. While since the two of us’ve been out for a bevy together.
Life is passing.
Rubbish.
Life isnt passing.
Fuck sake Tammas.
Well ya cunt you’re beginning to sound like John!
Still and all but you cant deny times’ve changed. I mean the team we used to run about with! Christ!
There was a lot of us right enough.
Aye, there was a lot of us.
Headcases man, you’re no wanting to run about with a bunch of fucking headcases are you?
Fuck sake Tammas, all I’m saying is there was a lot of us. And now there’s no.
So what?
Fucking so what, so nothing! Rab shook his head and he lifted his empty pint glass. Where’s that fucking waitress?
Tammas had almost a third of beer in his glass and he brandished it. Doesnt pay to rush your drink, he said.
Aye. Rab looked at him. Just as long as you’re pint for pint with me.
Pint for pint with you! Tammas grinned. You should’ve told me in advance man and we could’ve fucking made a bet on it.
Rab smiled.
Anyway ya cunt, you shouldnt be fucking guzzling beer if you’re supposed to be taking the game seriously!
I always take the game seriously, that’s how I’m so fucking good at it! Rab shook his head. He lifted the empty glass again and upturned it, standing it in the middle of the table. He stared across to where the waitresses were leaning at the bar with their trays, watching the band performing on the small raised platform. Then he muttered, No a bad band.
Tammas brought out the cigarettes and lighted one, sipped at his beer. Aye, he said. He was looking at Rab, and he added: You okay man?
Okay?
What’s up?
What’s up? Rab was frowning at him. Fuck all up.
Tammas nodded.
Naw I mean . . .
It’s alright.
Naw, I just eh . . . Rab sighed. I cant be fucking bothered man.
What d’you mean?
Ah nothing.
Tammas sniffed, inhaled on the cigarette and he exhaled to the floor. The waitress was arriving. She leaned to place the tray on the edge of the table, passed the two pints out. Rab dropped the money onto the tray and told her to keep the change and she nodded in reply.
Tammas was looking at him.
Naw, he said, its just . . .
Just what?
Naw, fuck, just – Hull City man! Rab smiled and looked away. I just wish it was some other cunt – that got into the 1st division now and again!
Aw aye. Tammas nodded. A few moments later he glanced at Rab and he asked: Is that all?
Is that all? How what d’you mean?
Tammas shrugged. Is that all?
Rab looked at him, frowned: I dont know what you mean Tammas.
Aw, okay.
Naw, I dont.
Okay.
Naw but what’re you fucking – what d’you mean?
Ah well . . . Tammas shrugged. If you were waiting for the Gers or something . . .
Waiting for the Gers?
Tammas glanced at him.
Naw, was I fuck.
Tammas grinned. Donnie once told me you might! I told him he was wrong!
I wasnt fucking waiting for the fucking Gers man! Rab shook his head and he raised the pint to his mouth and swallowed a big mouthful of lager. You kidding!
Hh!
What’re you fucking hhing at ya bastard?
You ya cunt I’m fucking hhing at you – waiting for the fucking Gers man! Hh!
What d’you mean?
Tammas smiled, He dragged on his cigarette and blew smoke to the ceiling. Then he said: Honest man – were you waiting for the Gers right enough?
Rab sniffed, then he shrugged.
Tammas nodded.
Naw, no really, I wasnt. It’s just eh – I’ll tell you something for nothing: I never even thought about it till fucking about a week ago. I mean never, no since I was a boy. Honest. Christ I mind when I started playing junior two seasons ago there was this baldy bastard playing alongside me. I think he was about fucking thirty or something. But brilliant, fucking brilliant. I’m no kidding ye man you could never understand how he wasnt senior. He could’ve went anywhere as well – except the Gers, cause they never fucking asked him. Every other cunt in Britain fucking asked him except them. Sad. Peter Wylie. Still playing the now. Fucking star man week in week out.
Hh.
It’s in ye but, that’s all I’m saying. Cause you’re brought up a protestant. I mean these fucking Saturday afternoons man when we all used to go over on the Govan ferry and get lifted over the turnstiles. Christ Tammas no mind that? And the fucking turf, that first time you see it coming down from the top of the terracing! Eh? Christ, what like was it at all!
Rab laughed: his shoulders were waggling as he spoke . . .
And the two teams man. All the colours: trotting out with the ball. And the big roar! O ya fucking beauty! And going quiet when the ref blew the whistle and then that fucking cheer once the ball was kicked off. I used to get the shivers man I’m no kidding ye, I used to get the fucking shivers!
Hh! Tammas grinned. So did I. And I can fucking mind even the now what like it was!
So can I! I mean . . . Rab was shaking his head, he sighed, then shrugged.
But you wouldnt want to play for them surely?
How no?
Well I mean what they always say about going there and trying to get a game man – it’s alright if you get transferred for big money and that but dont sign as a boy or you’ll wind up in the reserve squad, for the rest of your life!
Rab shrugged. Fair enough, I know that – even the auld man said that to me. It’s just the fucking . . . He shrugged again, gazed off in the direction of the platform. The band had stopped playing and were on an interval break.
Tammas gestured at Rab’s pint: Another yin?
Aye, you okay but? for the dough and that?
Tammas nodded. Then he grinned suddenly: Hey listen, guess where I met that lassie!
Rab smiled.
Naw I’m no kidding man. What d’you mean?
Naw, guess where I met her – just where I met her.
Guess where you met her?
Aye.
Rab shrugged.
The fucking track man!
> What d’you mean Shawfield!
Naw for fuck sake Ayr, the horses.
Ayr?
Ayr Races, aye.
For fuck sake! Rab laughed loudly. You’re fucking crazy ya cunt!
Tammas laughed.
Around midnight they were in an Indian Restaurant. Rab had been staring at his half stuffed paratha and he noticed Tammas watching him. Naw, he said, it looks a wee bit greasy.
Come on man.
Naw eh . . . You can have it.
Tammas glanced at Rab’s plate, the pile of food still lying on it. Aye, he said, you’ve got a lot to swallow right enough! Fucking give us it! He laughed and snatched the paratha half from the plate, dipped it into the curry boat and ate it in a couple of bites.
Naw I know. Rab nodded. He was poking at the rice on his plate with his fork. I just . . . d’you ever think about it all man, the parathas and the chapatis and all that, piles and piles of it, all the curry I mean, all of it man . . . Rab leaned forwards a little and he closed his eyes, pointing with his thumb to the side, to where three tables were positioned together, accommodating a party of fourteen people. Plates and bowls of all kinds of food were spread throughout and two waiters were handling a portable sort of oven on top of which lumps of chicken meat lay cooking.
Aw shut up for fuck sake, muttered Tammas.
It’s fucking getting to me but.
Cause you’re letting it.
I’m no fucking letting it.
Aye you are . . . Tammas sniffed, wiped his mouth with a napkin and he swallowed some water; he lighted a cigarette and sat back on his chair. Best curry I’ve had for years! You having a coffee or what?
Rab reached for the water jug and refilled his own glass. He gulped a mouthful immediately. He wrinkled his nose. He cleared his throat and muttered, Naw but that poor cunt down the stair man; him that does the fucking dishes and the rest of it, having to scrape off all the fucking leftovers man, into a big fucking dustbin.
Aw Jesus Christ Rab. Tammas leaned to whisper: You fucking sound as if you’re trying to make yourself sick.
Naw. Naw, it’s no that . . . Rab rubbed his forehead, just above his eyebrows, his eyelids were shut. He opened them and smiled slightly. Sometimes I get the horrors man. I dont even know what they are, just fucking – it’s the horrors man; I dont know, these big bins of grub man – imagine lying at the bottom of it, being fucking smothered, no being . . .
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