by James Kelman
…
I’m no meaning nothing; it’s just it’s a good habit to get into for official purposes. Ye annoyed? Dont be.
I’m no.
Ye are, but ye shouldnay be.
Dont fucking tell us how I shouldnay be, or how I should be, dont fucking tell us that. Sammy turned his head to listen in the direction of where the bus would come.
With respect
With respect man fucking spook language… Sammy spat on the ground. What is it with you are ye a fucking grass or what?
Fair enough.
Fair enough!
Fair enough ye should think that, I’m a spook or I’m a grass, it’s fair enough.
Sammy tapped himself on the chest. I’m just fucking sick of it, right. I get a lot of hassle, off different cunts, I dont need you as well. Another time, maybe, but no the fucking now man I’m no in the mood, my head’s no fucking – I’m no up to it. Sammy spat on the ground again and he stayed facing away from him.
Fair enough…
Another time.
When?
Whenever ye fucking like.
See what ye have to understand about repping; I need to think the way they do. I’ve got to know all the minutae, the wee details, the words naybody else looks for, the fine print as they say. How d’ye think I got ye yer referral! Cause I knew the right words to say, it’s like abracadabra – two seconds’ flat and he was signing his name. It’s how they think and how they act, the authorities I’m talking about, how they breathe; how they hold their knife and fork, the kind of car they drive; where they stay – which is hard by the way cause they hate folk knowing where they stay. And that’s afore ye reach the rules and regulations and all the different procedures; the protocols and the formalities, when ye bow and when ye scrape; when ye talk and when ye hold yer wheesht – ye follow me, when to shut the auld gub: all-important – when to wear a tie and when to loosen the top button. You know the score Sammy, ye go up to court ye dont start acting the clown, ye have to play the game. It’s them that make the rules.
Sammy rubbed his chin.
The one thing they dont know is you and me. That’s the one thing they dont know. They think they do but they dont. That’s how they need their grasses and their spooks. It’s a problem they’ve got I mean it’s very hard for them to find out about us. That’s cause we’re repugnant. They dont even like being in the same room as us!
I dont like being in the same fucking room as them.
Aye but still I mean we have to but they dont, they’re only there for the dough whereas we’re there cause we have to be. We’ve nay choice, they have. So I mean what I’m saying is if I tell ye something ye dont like ye’ve got to look at it from the big picture. Ye’ve got to look at what we’re doing as if we’re standing there in front of the judge and everything we say’s been taken down and used in evidence. I’m no saying anything ye dont know, jeesoh, ye dont enter the court and start shouting and bawling fuck this and fuck that and fuck you too yer honour.
Sammy smiled.
Eh? Naw I mean ye know what I’m talking about! See it’s like I’m aye practising for the days I take the stand; I just cannay break the damn habit. I dont want to but know what I mean, I dont want to. The closer I get to courts and tribunals the more like them I get. Ask the wife and she’ll tell ye. If ye listen to us ye wouldnay know the difference!
I’d fucking know.
Ah well I’m talking about the average person Sammy no the Birdman of Alcatraz, no as such, with respect.
Is that a bus coming!
Aye.
What number?
A hundred and twelve.
It’s no mine.
Naw but that’s what I’m saying, these are the things ye’ve got to attend to, or at least I do, yer rep, that’s the things ye look out for, that’s yer job. On that very point, is Helen yer lady wife? Common-law?
Sammy sniffed.
She is yer girlfriend but?
Far as I know.
It’s just a row yez had?
…
Well it’s your business Sammy; on the other hand I’ll find out anyway; what I mean by that is we’re gony get to know each other, whether ye like it or no.
There was a flurry of traffic going past and Sammy kidded on his attention was taken by it.
Ye follow me?
What?
Naw what I’m saying, with me repping ye, I cannay help getting to know yer business. It doesnay matter about them being kept in the dark but I cannay be, otherwise how can I do the job? it isnay possible.
What isnay possible?
Me repping ye, if I’m doing it properly.
I didnay say ye were repping me.
I thought we had agreed.
No to my knowledge.
I see, it’s like that.
It’s no like fuck all mate ye’re just jumping to conclusions. I’ve got to give it a think.
Well it’s your prerogative. What I will say is: if I’m to prepare yer case it’s got to be thorough; and to be thorough I need time. There’s nay point you telling me to go ahead the day afore yer case is due. Plus there’s another thing: ye have to remember they’ll know everything. What’s the point of me in batting for ye if I know less than they do?
They’ll no know everything. Sammy spat out into the street.
If I was you I’d assume it.
Aye well you’re no me. There’s a difference between repping somebody and fucking being somebody; know what I’m talking about, being somebody?
I know what ye’re saying.
Good.
How long d’ye need to think it ower?
I’ll sleep on it.
See the thing is, with respect, it doesnay matter whether ye sleep on it or no; ye’re still gony have to say aye or naw; when the time comes, ye follow? That’s the bottom line. Whether ye take a week to work it out, at the end of the day ye’re still left with the decision. Either ye go for it or ye dont. I’m no gony put pressure on ye, I mean I dont need to drum up business, let’s be clear about that. But time’s short and there’s work to do; research and other stuff. Then again I’ve got my other cases. And being honest with ye some of them are more complicated than this yin. The woman I’m going to see the now, she’s been fighting for years; in comparison to her case yours is a dawdle.
Is that right?
…
I’m no being sarcastic; I just dont like being cornered; cunts aye seem to be cornering me, know what I mean, it wears ye down.
I’m no cornering ye, I’m doing the opposite.
I need a think.
Suit yerself.
It’s no to do with you, no personally: if I need a rep it’s you I’ll go to.
Aye well there’s the timebar to think about as well, ye wait too long and ye lose yer chance.
It’s alright for you.
I only make a pay if you get the dough, so it’s no alright for me. It’s consistency we’re talking about.
Aye well consistency I get fuckt man that’s consistency, I get fuckt.
But how? all ye can do is fail. There’s no gony be any retribution; they dont care one way or the other. It’s no them pays out the money, it’s us.
Aye but it’s bad reports and statistics; bad for the politics, if they’re seen making a bolls of things, there’s repercussions.
We’re talking vote-catcher, sure, and they’ll fight like hell to beat us. They have to show they can do the work. If they’ve got adequate resources and they accept they’ve got adequate resources then they should use these resources in an adequate way, that’s their job. Our case is gony hinge on incompetence and inefficiency, that the way they’re operating is inadequate for the job in hand. In the short run that boils down to money – it’s what ye might call an unwritten point of law – but it’s different money to the money that goes on compen; this kind of money comes out the department’s own budget. When that happens and gets seen to happen then somebody’s for the chop; that’s what they’
re feart of, getting the chop. Ye with me?
Sammy sighed. What do ye think? he said, does it look like rain?
Eh, aye.
Clouds?
Aye.
Thought so. Sammy cleared his throat and spat again. You sure this isnay a fucking lamppost we’re standing at!
Ally chuckled. My car’s in getting its MOT the now, otherwise I would’ve drove ye.
Sammy nodded. Right, he said, it’s a deal.
…
Ye’re repping me; that’s that. Okay? If ye’re still into it.
Aye, right. Good Sammy, okay, the battle’s on – ye’ve got nothing to lose anyway!
Well I wouldnay say that exactly.
Ye sure ye dont want to think it ower?
Nah.
They shook hands to clinch it.
Nay going back now eh? I’m a man of my word Sammy, I hope you are too. I’m only saying that cause of the amount of work ahead. I dont mind doing it; it’s just if ye spend all that time and effort and it gets called off at the last minute. I mean I dont mind getting beat, no as such, but the other way naw; it’s heck of a frustrating. The most frustrating thing of all is that they’ve won, it means they’ve done the business. That’s the worst of it. So what about the charity?
I’ll go immediately?
Immediately?
Well I mean the morrow morning.
Right. Definitely now cause it’s really important.
Nay danger.
What time at?
Eh…
Maybe I could come with ye.
Nay need. Honest; I have to do things myself; I’ve got to learn.
Good, aye, right; well the address is on the referral, it’s up St Vincent Street. I asked him for it. I know ye’ve nay religion so it’ll fit ye for non-denominational, it’s a protestant one. Okay?
Aye, ta, well done; if I get lost I’ll just ask somebody.
Ye’re a fighter.
Dont fucking con me. Sammy smiled.
I wouldnay try to.
Okay. Heh ye dont have to wait with me for the bloody bus ye know I just stick my hand out for everything.
It’s alright.
Ye’re in a hurry but Ally honest, it doesnay matter.
Ye sure…?
Nay bother; ye’ve gave us the dough and that’s great; seventy pence I owe ye; it’ll be there the next time I see ye.
That’ll be Wednesday late morning.
Right, okay.
It’s just that’s the first chance I’ll get. I’ll come up to yer door. Better that than meeting somewhere; it gives us the chance to go through things properly. Plus I’ll have had the chance to do a bit of work. Tell ye something: we’ll be further on than ye think!
Good.
Ah well that’s my job; although I’ve got to say it, dont get too confident. Going up against these people, there’s nay short-cuts. It’s painstaking stuff; heartbreaking sometimes. Never mind, ye can only do yer best. Alright then?
Aye.
So mind that charity the morrow morning, it’s crucial.
Nay bother.
They said cheerio now and shook hands again. When he had gone Sammy took out the prescription and the referral and crumpled them up. But he didnay fling them away; he was about to but he stopped and stuck them back in his pocket. Ally might have been watching from along the street. No that it mattered cause he had nay intention of going anywhere the morrow morning. He had nay intention of using a rep either. He had nay intention of doing fuck all except what he felt like. Ye just had to keep yer nerve. Nay cunt was gony get him out of trouble; nay cunt except himself. A heavy vehicle was coming; a truck, he stood back.
Who was conning who? Sammy smiled. Ye do yer crime ye take yer time. He spat into the street.
Muttering from somewhere. Either it was the sodjers or a fucking bus was due.
So there ye are. That was fucking that. He wasnay racing in blinkers man he knew the scenario. So what’s he gony do? roll ower and fucking die? that will be right.
Okay.
A case of the thinking cap the fucking thinking cap, okay.
Right. So he had to work, he had to plan. He was getting used to the blindness now. The first nightmare was past. He was in the second stage. And to pass through it he needed to go careful. The knives were out man the knives were out. Okay. That was something he knew about. Relax. Relax. Right alright right fucking right right man relax just relax, okay.
He had been dribbling for christ sake! he felt the wetness at the sides of his mouth. As soon as he got in that door out would come the razor.
It was fucking annoying but, irritating behaviour, know what I mean, the way every single last one of them took him for a mug. They did! The stupit bastard sodjers thought Sammy knew something and he knew fuck all cause Charlie didnay trust him enough to fucking tell him fuck all. That was the story there. Fucking bastards. Okay; relax. Naw but it fucking annoyed ye man! The idea of it, ye know? fuck sake.
And if he didnay make it. If he didnay make it it was the bammycain here we come. Cause one thing was for definite; if these bastards wantit to stick him away then they would stick him away, straightforward, no two ways about it. And he wouldnay last the pace. He wouldnay. He fucking couldnay.
It was all down to time. That was how he was getting so fucking jumpy. It was time, time! that was what it was down to. Every last thing. The one thing he didnay have. And see when ye thought about it that was what they were doing, they were robbing him, they were thieving it off him. Telling ye man that was what they were fucking doing. Bastards. The sodjers and the DSS, the Health and Welfare. They were all stringing him along.
A bus was coming; he put out his hand; too late. There ye are; fucking time; fucking late again. If ye didnay know better it was fate, a wee warning. That was it telling him; that was the bus away and if ye didnay watch out it was yer life, what was fucking left of it man that was that; end of story. So move, move. Okay, he listened hard. He got one eventually. A couple of other folk were waiting and he had them keep a look out. He took the first seat on the lower deck, the one for invalids; fair enough.
The rain was drizzling when he got off. He gritted his teeth. There was naybody roundabout. He had to make it to the flats on his own. That was okay. It was best. There was nay way ye could rely on cunts getting ye out of trouble. A guy might do something, he’s no always responsible. Who knows the pressure they put other people under. They aye find ways to fuck ye. It doesnay matter who ye are if they want to do ye they do ye.
The stone wall was wet. Obviously it was wet it was raining. Just it felt funny, damp and gritty. It had a good smell, fresh; and something else; hard to say what it was.
There was a person standing. Sammy’s hand brushed against their clothes. He apologised. Nay answer. He kept going, looking for the other entrance into the pedestrian walkway. His feet were bloody nipping again. Never mind. Wet weather keeps the dogs at bay. Ever see a drookit dog? fucking pathetic, head lowered and shoulders drooping, nose tripping off the ground. Trotting along but trotting along; no chucking the hand in, still looking for that scent. One time Sammy booked into a lodging house and got his cubicle, he took it for two nights. He didnay have much luggage, maybe a couple of bags, and come next morning, to be on the safe side, he took it with him when he set off on the wander. He was looking for work, just chancing his arm at sites here and there, stepping up and asking for a word with the ganger. Anyway he didnay get a job, but when he came back to the cubicle there was a hat and jacket hanging on the peg behind the door. It was a greasy fucking jacket but the hat wasnay greasy, it was quite a nice looking effort, navy blue or something, Frank Sinatra. Fucking wild. Kipping down for the night with these things hanging up behind yer head; creepy – where had they come from? where were they fucking going! it gave ye the willies, especially in the early hours when the lights shifts and ye start to make out the contours and it isnay just total black nothingness.
The point is
to do
with the shoes. Nay cunt stole his shoes. Sammy was in some cunt’s house. And he put on the trainers by mistake. Cause he was drunk. Or else some cunt put on his cause they were drunk; and he took theirs cause better that pair than nay pair. And the Leg was long odds-on, fucking eedjit man fucking typical – except it was him walking about in the brand new leathers whereas Mister fucking Smartguy Sammy
The rain was getting heavier.
Ye had to think.
Naw ye didnay. There was nay point. What ye did was things, ye did things, ye didnay fucking think about doing them ye fucking done them man there’s a difference. And Sammy was going to England. So there ye are.
If by any stretch of the fucking imagination he could get his Dysfunctional Benefit then not only would he no have to work at jobs that ye wanted eyes for, ye would also get yer Gratuities money raised to compensate. But he wouldnay get his fucking Dysfuckingfunctional Benefit man he would be lucky to get fucking re-registered christ almighty, and the actual compen was a joke. Nay chance. He was the cause of the sightloss; him himself. That was obvious. If they needed the arguments he would supply them. Hope doesnay spring eternal. Ally tried to give him hope but there was nay hope. So why fucking bother? You wind up the loser; ye get double-fuckt. Ye just play the game for as long and as much as ye need to. It wins ye breathing space. Breathing space is what he was giving to Charlie. Maybe. Who knows. No that it mattered. Mind you even a couple of hours. A fucking couple of minutes man sometimes that was all ye wanted. And ye’re out the window and round the corner and they dont know ye from Adam.
These things were a rigmarole, ye just kept the nerve. Ye got by on the situation; your situation. It took time and effort; concentration, attending to detail. That was one thing he liked about being blind: see at night man he slept like a fucking trooper. All down to the effort that went into the day-to-day stuff, the minute-to-minute points of order. The actual living. That was what fucking knackered ye, the actual living! Sammy chuckled. He felt the water on his ears; maybe it would go inside and wash away the wax.
There were guys he knew would do him favours, if he wanted to use them. It was down to him.