The Busconductor Hines

by James Kelman

  Sammy nodded.

  I’m here to see you about one thing and one thing only. If I sign for that line downstairs then I’ve got to go home and change into the uniform; then I’ve got to go up to Head Office to see them right away. I’ll no get paid for it. I’m doing it all on my own time. What I really want to know is whether the Union is happy to let this happen to the members?

  Sammy sighed and scratched his neck.

  I think Rab’s got a point, said Scott.

  Aye I know he’s got a point. I just dont think there’s anything we can do about it right now.

  How d’you mean? said Hines.

  Sammy shrugged. He laid his cigarette on the ashtray. Look, d’you want me to go down and see Campbell or what?

  How?

  Just to find out the score.

  In what way?

  Well for one thing I mean, to find out how serious the line is. For instance: did he actually say it’d be a 10 o’clock the morrow morning if you dont go this afternoon?

  Hines shook his head. Then a tapping noise sounded from the intercom; the breathing noise from the microphone . . . Conductor Hines. Conductor Hines. If you’re on the premises, report to the Office. Conductor Hines.

  Paul’s amazement. Hines winked and asked him for one of his sweeties; and then indicated Sammy. Paul offered one to him. Sammy took it and swallowed it, following up with a quick mouthful of tea. Hines grinned. It’s no a pill.

  Sammy smiled briefly.

  I’m no signing for the line.

  I’ll come down with you.

  Heh Rab, called Scott; you want to leave the wean here?

  Naw it’s alright, ta.

  It’s up to you. Scott shrugged.

  Ach I’ll just take him with me. Ta anyway.

  Sammy had finished his tea and rinsed the cup out; he went to the door and held it open for Hines and Paul to exit. Out on the corridor he said, A wee bit warmer the day.

  Aye, I thought that myself.

  Sammy snorted. There’s quite a few having a bet on snow for Christmas. Mugs – every year they do it – what they forget is it’s got to be snowing at midnight on Christmas Eve. Otherwise they lose their money.

  Christ.

  Aye; it’s a stupid bet.

  Hh.

  An Inspector was standing by the counter-hatch when they entered the Office; he raised it for them; but noticing Paul coming through he frowned, You cant take the wee boy in with you.

  I’ll have to but.

  He’d be okay here, said Sammy.

  Naw, he’ll just no stay by himself. Hines ruffled Paul’s hair then made to continue but the Inspector raised his right hand. Better wait till I check, he told him.

  I’ll come with you Bob, said Sammy.

  Thanks a lot, muttered Hines. And the Shop Steward looked at him before carrying on across the Office area behind the Inspector. Hines hoisted Paul onto the counter. 1255 hours. Nobody queued for the wages. The Wagesclerk had begun clearing his stuff away. Hines gestured at him and said, That’s the guy who dishes out the money to the drivers and conductors son; remember I got mine off him? the envelope with the money?

  Yes.

  He took a last drag at the cigarette and ground it out on the floor. The Wagesclerk hadnt glanced across. Towards the rear of the Office area a girl came from one of the larger offices near to the Deskclerks’ room, and walked along towards another. That’s a girl who works in the Office, he said. She earns more than I do for fewer hours.

  The Wagesclerk paused.

  Hines sniffed and nodded in his direction. That man there, he earns an awful lot more than I do; and he works fewer hours as well. He’s a Clerk, the Wagesclerk. See: he has to wear a shirt and a tie and the rest of it . . . Hines glanced away from the man and asked Paul for a sweetie.

  The girl was returning. She was nice to look at. She would be wearing perfume; if she wasnt wearing too much that good smell of skin would be overriding. Short skirts had been in style last summer and she still wore one; her legs werent as good as Sandra’s but they were fine all the same. She walked in a studied manner, her sheets of paper flapping as she opened the door, she entered, disappeared.

  Sammy came from the Deskclerks’ room not long afterwards; he also wore a shirt and tie, and he kept his uniform well pressed although not as if in an effort to emulate the Inspectors, more as if he paid extra heed to Head Office memoranda in the belief that Shop Stewards should set an example. His eyebrows were raised. You could tell he wanted to speak but was having to restrain himself. When he got to the counter he said, Rab – you never mentioned it was your day-off the morrow.

  Aye, I told Campbell.

  Sammy nodded. You’re definitely best going up this afternoon then. I’ll come with you but. And listen, between you and me, it’s very doubtful they’ll give you the bullet. Your record’s bad right enough – you’ve got to admit it – but I think you’ll get away with 2 days and a severe reprimand.

  You sure?

  Well no guarantees, but eh . . .

  I had a feeling I’d be out the fucking door.

  Naw; doubt it. You’ve been too many years in the job.

  Aye but my service is broken Sammy.

  Still and all, it must go in your favour. Mind Billy McCann? Christ I had to go up with him once and I’m no kidding you, if you think your record’s bad!

  Hines nodded. Will I be on time then? if I go up.

  Ho!

  I’m no going if I’m no.

  Look Rab, to be honest, I think you’re making a mountain out a molehill.

  Well I dont I mean I’m no really; it’s a point of principle. I dont see why the Union should be willing to accept a load of shite from Head Office.

  Ach.

  Hines paused then took out the tin, began making a cigarette. Barry McBride had entered with Scott and a couple of others; they were standing out of earshot but occasionally gazing over. Look at it this way, continued Hines: if you and me go up to Head Office this afternoon I’ll be the only cunt no getting paid. You’ll be getting paid and so will them wanting to see me. I’m the fucking imbecile. No just me, every busworker who’s ever in the same fucking boat. It’s always the same Sammy. Christ sake I mean either everybody should get paid or no cunt should get paid.

  Sammy sniffed and nodded slightly. Then Hines grinned, Away and tell Campbell I’m willing to go and meet them in a fucking pub if we’re all wearing civvies and it’s after working hours!

  Sammy smiled briefly. But what’re you wanting them to do? you’ve got to see them sooner or later.

  I know, I know . . . He lighted his cigarette. I’m just no willing to put on my uniform and go on my own time to do something connected to garage business. Nobody else does. I dont see why we should – do you?

  Sammy looked at him.

  Hines shrugged and exhaled smoke.

  Is that it final then?

  Aye.

  Okay, I’ll away and tell them.

  Sorry.

  What d’you mean sorry?

  Nothing.

  Listen Rab, dont try any of your fly patter with me.

  I wasnt meaning anything.

  Aye you were . . . Sammy sniffed. Avoiding the faces of those standing out of earshot he turned and headed back to the Deskclerks’ room. The Inspector stood at the door; he opened it for the Shop Steward then followed him in.

  Paul began swivelling on the counter, propelling himself like on a roundabout. Hines pushed him for a time, then returned him to the floor and moved a couple of paces nearer the group. Eventually Scott approached, wanting to know what was what. Just the same, said Hines.

  A conductor asked, What’s it actually about but. Are you refusing to take a Head Office line? is that it?

  Well aye, but no really. I’m just refusing to go home and put on my uniform then go up to Head Office when I’m no working.

  Aw aye. The conductor frowned, Quite fucking right and all.

  Heh Rab . . . Barry nodded to across the Office
area; and Hines turned slowly and became engrossed in checking the buttons on Paul’s coat. The Inspector was attempting to beckon him on through. Hines continued footering with the coat buttons.

  Eh conductor . . . The Inspector had arrived at the counter. Come through a minute.

  What about the wean?

  Eh – can you no leave him there? it’ll no be long.

  Hines nodded after a moment. Just wait a minute, he said to Paul, I’ll no be long. Okay?

  Paul nodded. Hines winked and patted him on the head, before following the Inspector across to the room.

  Campbell and Fairlie were both there. Fairlie was another Deskclerk, a man in his late fifties and about 20 years older than Campbell; he appeared to have just eaten the remains of his dinner; a full mug of tea lay in front of him on the small table. Campbell sat along from him and Sammy was standing to the side, near to a wall. And directly at the door stood the Inspector, arms folded. It was a small room; Hines had to take up a position closeby the table, quite near to the elderly Deskclerk.

  Campbell spoke first. You’re still refusing to take the line?

  I’m no willing to put on my uniform and go up to Head Office on my own time.

  Campbell frowned. He glanced at Fairlie who was studying his mug of tea, then said: So you will take the line?

  Aye, as long as I dont have to go up when I’m no working.

  If you dont go up this afternoon it’s a 10 o’clock tomorrow morning.

  It’s my day-off tomorrow.

  Campbell glanced at Fairlie and folded his arms.

  This afternoon or tomorrow morning, said Fairlie. Suit yourself. He raised the mug of tea and sipped, making a slight slurping noise. Hines glanced at Sammy who pursed his lips. Then the Deskclerk placed the mug on the table and looked up. What’s it to be then?

  Eh . . . will I be on time?

  What d’you mean son?

  Well I’m no working the day and I’m no working the morrow.

  Aye, so you’ve plenty of time.

  I know, but it means I’m no getting paid.

  What exactly is it you’re talking about?

  I’m being asked to put on my uniform and go up to Head Office. I should get paid for it.

  Hh; that’s a good yin. Fairlie half smiled to Campbell who snorted. Then he looked to Hines again. How d’you work that out?

  I’m having to put on my uniform and go up to Head Office: I should get paid for it.

  No you shouldnt.

  How no?

  Fairlie raised his eyebrows then frowned, he lifted the mug to sip at the tea and peered at Campbell over its rim. Campbell replied, There’s no point trying to talk to him.

  Fairlie said nothing. Sammy cleared his throat; he sniffed and glanced at the elderly Deskclerk. What he says Tom, in a way he’s got a fair point.

  Dont you start!

  Naw but if you think about it.

  For God sake Sammy. Fairlie shook his head. You mean he’s to get paid for going up to Head Office with a bloody line!

  Aye I know, but if you think about it.

  Campbell snorted. I know what I effing think about it. He sat forwards on his chair and he stared at Hines, then seemed to relax, and he chuckled slightly. Fairlie was sipping tea again; he laid the mug on the table and gazed at Hines. You get paid for conducting buses son. Your trouble is you dont conduct enough of them. That’s how you’ve got the Head Office line, your timekeeping’s a bloody disgrace – your record as a whole for that matter, no two ways about it. In fact either you take the line or you’ll be out the door.

  Hines looked at him. They exchanged looks. Then Fairlie lifted the mug of tea.

  That’s a bit strong, said Sammy.

  A bit strong! Fairlie glared at him. D’you know the kind of record we’re talking about here? I’ll be surprised if he’s worked a full week since he came back to the bloody job. I’ll tell you something for nothing: I dont think he’s got a leg to stand on. And I’ll tell you something else Sammy: I’m surprised at you!

  What d’you mean?

  Well, this bloody nonsense. Fairlie shook his head and swallowed a mouthful of tea. His face had reddened. So had Sammy’s. After several moments Campbell sat up and took a packet of cigarettes from his dustcoat; he passed one to both the men and flicked a lighter to light his own; the other two lit their own.

  Hines gestured with his tin and murmured. Okay if I . . . And he rolled a cigarette and struck a match and lighted it. When he exhaled he did so to the floor, and he held the cigarette cupped in his right hand, at his side. Campbell had been watching him. There was a large pictorial calendar of Canada on the wall above the table. Hines coughed and studied it, then inhaled.

  Fairlie nodded in some significant way; and the Inspector opened the door and murmured, Eh conductor, will you wait outside a minute . . .

  The door clicked firmly shut behind him.

  Hines shrugged across for the benefit of those behind the counter. Although Paul wasnt tall enough to be seen he would be thereabouts of course. More people were there now. Hines glanced about to see the time. There was a large electric wall-clock; according to it he had been in with the Deskclerks for less than 10 minutes. He puffed rapidly on the cigarette to get it burning properly. He walked a few paces, and leaned with his back to the wall. Soon the door opened. Sammy gestured at him to go with him in the direction of the counter; they stopped about halfway across and he stood side on, so that he was speaking a few inches from Hines’ left ear; and he spoke very quietly. Tom Fairlie meant what he said there Rab. If you dont take the line he’s going to try and sack you on the spot. He’s waiting for McGilvaray to come back from his dinner and he’s going straight in to see him. I’m no kidding you, Sammy shook his head, you’re really stirring things up.

  What?

  Sammy nodded. I mean you’ve got a good point, I’m no saying you’ve no. I’m just saying I dont think this is the way to go about it. Christ sake I mean Rab, bring it up at the next Branch Meeting – if you dont I will. And I’ll be bringing it up at the next Shop Stewards’ Meeting as well. Eh?

  Hines inhaled and glanced towards the group behind the counter. I cant take the line, he whispered.

  How no? the two of us’ll go straight up Head Office – I’ll come with you and that I mean . . . He sniffed. You’re making an issue out of nothing.

  I dont agree.

  Come on Rab I’ve known you for years; I know you’ve got your principles.

  It’s got nothing to do with that – honest I mean I’m just fucking sick of getting messed about.

  Sammy sniffed; it became a sigh. Wiping the corners of his mouth he inhaled deeply on the cigarette, retaining the smoke in his lungs for a long period. Is that it final? He exhaled.

  Hines shrugged.

  You’re refusing to take the line?

  I’m no willing to go up to Head Office in my own time, aye.

  Sammy nodded. He inhaled again and muttered, Right you are then. And he returned to the Deskclerks’ room, chapped once on the door and entered immediately, shutting the door behind himself. Hines walked to the counter and raised the hatch. Before anybody could approach he held his hands palms upwards mouthing, No.

  Paul came trotting up to him. Lifting him up Hines placed him on the counter. You been good?

  Paul didnt answer; he was staring out into the Office area. Then Scott strolled over. What’s happening Rab?

  Nothing. I think they’re giving me the bullet.

  Fuck sake.

  Hines nodded and turned from him, gazing in the same direction Paul was; and when the boy swivelled back to look at the faces in the group so did Hines. He caught the gaze of a conductress called Irene and grinned. The suspense is killing me!

  An outbreak of mild laughter; and conversations began. A conductor offered cigarettes till his packet was empty. Scott stepped in with his own packet to the few who had been left out, and got jeered. Hines ground out his own and took one from him and the laughter was qui
te loud.

  When Sammy came from the Deskclerks’ room he did so very deliberately; he crossed the floor in the way people do when there is only one goal to be reached and that goal by the one route. Scott moved to raise the hatch for him.

  I’m calling a Meeting, he said generally. The bothy in 20 minutes. I want a couple of yous to go and see if you can drum up a few folk.

  I’ll try the Vale, laughed somebody.

  So will I, said Barry and with a grin at Hines he added, This thing’s cost me a drink so it has!

  Sammy said, The more the merrier; we want a good turn out. He sniffed and glanced at Hines; Fancy a cup of tea?

  Somebody had given Paul a cup of milk and he seemed content to sit next to Hines, listening to the voices of those at the table. Nothing was being said that could be linked directly to the cause of the bother. Sammy appeared to be saving it for the Meeting proper. More people gathered than Hines had seen in the bothy for a long time. Normally Branch Meetings took place in one of the rooms of the local Masonic Hall; attendances rarely numbered more than twenty. Two members of the Committee arrived and went to sit at a nearby table; they glanced at Hines and glanced away when they saw he had noticed. They were probably talking about him. They dont like him very much. He doesnt like them either. Well, he doesnt not like them, he just thinks they’re fucking idiots. A variety of animosities exists within the garage. Quite a few people, including Hines, find it impossible to talk to those who werent staunchly opposed to the introduction of one-man-operated buses. The issue disrupted, totally, garage life towards the end of his first spell in the job. It is the root cause of most of the present disharmony. And now that the poor old fucking conductor/conductress is becoming absent things can never be the same.

  Why worry. Hines doesnt. He’s given up the fucking ghost, it is too ridiculous, it is a joke. Most of the carry-ons in the garage are a joke. People who eat in the bothy consider themselves superior to those who eat in the canteen. They regard the latter as a bunch of ne’er-do-well fly-by-nights while the latter regard the former as a bunch of infirm pensioners whose one aim in life is to secure a gold watch. It stems from the simple fact that the longer a person remains in a job the more habits and possessions he or she will acquire. And since habits demand further possessions and all possessions require space, bearing in mind that the bothy has lockers and the canteen doesnt, the bothy becomes a home from home for those who remain attached to the job – but there again: a lot of folk like to drink tea or coffee whenever they are on the garage premises and they can only do so in the canteen between certain hours of the day such that they are forced into using the bothy outside of those hours even though they would prefer not to do so because when all is said and done it is much better sitting drinking tea in the bothy than standing doing nothing in the fucking corridor.