The place was in darkness. Inside I crept up the stairs and undressed as quietly as I possibly could. I decided against using the bathroom until much later when it was certain they would be in and sleeping. But they would be in. It had to be after midnight. I listened. I heard nothing unusual. I continued to listen and then on impulse I got out the sleeping bag and used a sock to muffle the click of the light switch. The light came on. I switched it off.
That was that!
They had missed the bus next morning. When I passed along the hallway they appeared from the room. It was unexpected but I didnt find it totally surprising. Bob muttered something about having read any meters lately? I walked on. They spoke to each other. I could feel the anger getting up in me. I was about shaking. It was coming to the head. But it was the wrong time. I wasnt ready. I turned and stared at them. I didnt speak, I just looked. Then I went out. And even if I had been prepared it would have been pointless. Very different in a place like the public bar of a local pub. That would have been a real confrontation. Yet even then I would have to see everything was right, prepared.
The man in charge was at the window of the office when I arrived. I didnt want to go in. I wanted to get back to the house. It was pointless not to.
Everything was neat in the room. Their sleeping bags were folded, one lying on a chair and one lying on the big trunk. A poster covered the blank spot above the mantelpiece. But if the old woman’s stuff had been shoved back into her room what would be left? Nothing. Sleeping bags and a poster you could buy anywhere. I lit a cigarette. Then all of the furniture including the television set and the orange carpet I carted straight through into the old woman’s place. I could close the door but not lock it. How did they do it? Maybe they didnt even lock it at all! Maybe they just stuck the stuff back and hoped the daughter wouldnt check to see if the actual door had been broken open! I stayed in the house until an hour before they were due off the bus. I didnt come back until much later. Of course they would have known. Who cares? But the daughter could have done it. She could have come in unexpectedly to check in the lounge. And how could she be asked to stand by and let her mother’s belongings be used by a couple of strangers? And what about the television and carpet? She had every right to take them as well. They didnt belong to them. They were only temporary. I had as much right to them as they did. In some respects even more. Turn and turn about. They had their turn and surely I should have mine. My room would have been a great place with a carpet and a television set. Even just to have borrowed them once or twice. We could’ve cut the cards to set the nights. Everybody would’ve wanted Saturday but it could’ve been worked out fairly.
The front door had slammed. When I got to the window I saw them disappear along the street.
A padlock had been fixed onto their door. It was brand new. I hadnt heard it being put on. They must have done the job while I was out and I missed seeing it when I came back. Why did they do it? They didnt have to. They could’ve let things come to a head and that could’ve been the confrontation. It would’ve all been sorted out. They didnt even know for certain it was me. It was obvious. But it wasnt certain. It could easily have been the daughter. And she had every right to do it. They couldnt know for certain it was me. But what would happen if they did? Nothing. Nothing could actually happen. They would have to speak perhaps. And they would have to be speaking soon anyway because I hadnt left my share of the rent out at the weekend. It wasnt on purpose. I just overspent. My wages havent been too good recently. I only had enough for getting to work and getting by on food for the week. But if they wanted the lounge as a bedsitter an agreement had to be worked out. The television and the carpet could be sorted out side by side otherwise – what? Otherwise what?
The padlock was a problem. The only alternative to forcing it was to go in through the window but maybe the thing was bolted down. Knowing how the old woman had been this was very likely. I went into the kitchen and looked about and then I saw a metal rod near the sink. It was long and sturdy enough. But still the snags about after. What would happen after? Who cares. Nothing to worry about – after! The padlock glinted, sparkling new. I struck it over and over but it wouldnt give. I wedged in the rod to use it like a crowbar but this wasnt working right either and I began battering it again and again then wedging it again till finally it creaked and came away, the whole apparatus including the screwnails, bright and shiny new. I booted the door open. The orange carpet was back in position but the television wasnt. Neither was anything else. Not even the sleeping bags. What happened? Had they left it all in the old woman’s room? Or packed up and left? Packed up and left maybe. They hadnt been carrying anything going down the street. They could have done it earlier on. I turned to leave and made out the big writing on the wall. HA HA HA, it said. I could check the other room or just go up the stair. It was cold in the hallway. And that musty smell.
Away in Airdrie
During the early hours of the morning the boy was awakened by wheezing, spluttering noises and the smell of a cigarette burning. The blankets hoisted up and the body rolled under, knocking him over onto his brother. And the feet were freezing, an icy draught seemed to come from them. Each time he woke from then on he could either smell the cigarette or see the sulphur head of the match flaring in the dark. When he opened his eyes for the final time the man was sitting up in bed and coughing out: Morning Danny boy, how’s it going?
I knew it was you.
Aye, my feet I suppose. Run through and get me a drink of water son will you.
Uncle Archie could make people laugh at breakfast, even Danny’s father – but still he had to go to work. He said. If you’d told me you were coming I could’ve made arrangements.
Ach, I was wanting to surprise yous all. Uncle Archie grinned: You’ll be coming to the match afterwards though eh?
The father looked at him.
The boys’re through at Airdrie the day.
Aw aye, aye. The father nodded, then he shrugged. If you’d told me earlier Archie – by the time I’m finished work and that . . .
Uncle Archie was smiling: Come on, long time since we went to a match the gether. And you’re rare and handy for a train here as well.
Aye I know that but eh; the father hesitated. He glanced at the other faces round the table. He said, Naw Archie. I’ll have to be going to my work and that, the gaffer asked me in specially. And I dont like knocking him back, you know how it is.
Ach, come on—
Honest, and by the time I finish it’ll be too late. Take the boys but. Danny – Danny’ll go anywhere for a game.
Uncle Archie nodded after a moment. How about it lads?
Not me, replied Danny’s brother. I’ve got to go up the town.
Well then . . . Uncle Archie paused and smiled: Me and you Danny boy, eh!
Aye Uncle Archie. Smashing.
Here! – I thought you played the game yourself on Saturdays?
No, the father said, I mean aye – but it’s just the mornings he plays, eh Danny?
Aye. Aw that’ll be great Uncle Archie. I’ve never been to Broomfield.
It’s no a bad wee park.
Danny noticed his mother was looking across the table at his father while she rose to tidy away the breakfast stuff. He got up and went to collect his football gear from the room. The father also got up, he pulled on his working coat and picked his parcel of sandwiches from the top of the sideboard. When the mother returned from the kitchen he kissed her on the cheek and said he would be home about half past two, and added: See you when you get back Archie. Hope the game goes the right way.
No fear of that! We’ll probably take five off them. Uncle Archie grinned, You’ll be kicking yourself for no coming – best team we’ve had in years.
Ach well, Danny’ll tell me all about it. Okay then . . . he turned to leave. Cheerio everybody.
The outside door closed. Uncle Archie remained by himself at the table. After a moment the mother brought him an ashtray and lifted the sauce
r he had been using in its stead. He said, Sorry Betty.
You’re smoking too heavy.
I know. I’m trying to . . . He stopped; Danny had come in carrying a tin of black polish and a brush, his football-boots beneath his arm. As he laid the things in front of the fireplace he asked: You seen my jersey mum?
It’s where it should be.
The bottom drawer?
She looked at him. He had sat down on the carpet and was taking the lid off the tin of black polish. She waited until he placed an old newspaper under the things, before leaving the room.
Hey Danny, called the Uncle. You needing any supporters this morning?
Supporters?
Aye, I’m a hell of a good shouter you know. Eh, wanting me along?
Well . . .
What’s up? Uncle Archie grinned.
Glancing up from the book he was reading Danny’s brother snorted: He doesnt play any good when people’s watching.
Rubbish, cried Danny, it’s not that at all. It’s just that – the car Uncle Archie, see we go in the teacher’s car and there’s hardly any space.
With eleven players and the driver! Uncle Archie laughed: I’m no surprised.
But I’ll be back in plenty of time for the match, he said as he began brushing the first boot.
Aye well you better because I’ll be off my mark at half twelve pronto. Mind now.
Aye.
It’s yes, said the mother while coming into the room, she was carrying two cups of fresh tea for herself and Uncle Archie.
Danny was a bit embarrassed, walking with his uncle along the road, and over the big hill leading out from the housing scheme, down towards the railway station in Old Drumchapel. But he met nobody. And there was nothing wrong with the scarf his uncle was wearing, it just looked strange at first, the blue and white, really different from the Rangers’ blue. But supporters of a team were entitled to wear its colours. It was better once the train had stopped at Queen Street Station. Danny was surprised to see so many of them all getting on, and hearing their accents. In Airdrie Uncle Archie became surrounded by a big group of them, all laughing and joking. They were passing round a bottle and opening cans of beer.
Hey Danny boy come here a minute! Uncle Archie reached out to grip him by the shoulder, taking him into the middle of the group. See this yin, he was saying: He’ll be playing for Rangers in next to no time . . . The men stared down at him. Aye, went on his uncle, scored two for the school this morning. Man of the Match.
That a fact son? called a man.
Danny reddened.
You’re joking! cried Uncle Archie. Bloody ref chalked another three off him for offside! Eh Danny?
Danny was trying to free himself from the grip, to get out of the group.
Another man was chuckling: Ah well son you can forget all about the Rangers this afternoon.
Aye you’ll be seeing a team the day, grunted an old man who was wearing a bunnet with blue and white checks.
Being in Broomfield Park reminded him of the few occasions he had been inside Hampden watching the Scottish Schoolboys. Hollow kind of air. People standing miles away could be heard talking to each other, the same with the actual players, you could hear them grunting and calling out ids. There was a wee box of a Stand that looked like it was balancing on stilts.
The halftime score was one goal apiece. Uncle Archie brought him a bovril and a hot pie soaked in the watery brown sauce. A rare game son eh? he said.
Aye, and the best view I’ve ever had too.
Eat your pie.
The match had ended in a two all draw. As they left the terracing he tagged along behind the group Uncle Archie was walking in. He hung about gazing into shop windows when the game was being discussed, not too far from the station. His uncle was very much involved in the chat and after a time he came to where Danny stood. Listen, he said, pointing across and along the road. See that cafe son? Eh, that cafe down there? Here, half a quid for you – away and buy yourself a drink of ginger and a bar of chocolate or something.
Danny nodded.
And I’ll come and get you in a minute.
He took the money.
I’m just nipping in for a pint with the lads . . .
Have I to spend it all?
The lot. Uncle Archie grinned.
I’ll get chips then, said Danny, but I’ll go straight into the cafe and get a cup of tea after, okay?
Fair enough Danny boy fair enough. And I’ll come and get you in fifteen minutes pronto. Mind and wait till I come now.
Danny nodded.
He was sitting with an empty cup for ages and the waitress was looking at him. She hovered about at his table till finally she snatched the cup out of his hands. So far he had spent twenty five pence and he was spending no more. The remaining money was for school through the week. Out from the cafe he crossed the road, along to the pub. Whenever the door opened he peered inside. Soon he could spot his uncle, sitting at a long table, surrounded by a lot of men from the match. But it was impossible to catch his attention, and each time he tried to keep the door open a man seated just inside was kicking it shut.
He wandered along to the station, and back again, continuing on in the opposite direction; he was careful to look round every so often. Then in the doorway of the close next to the pub he lowered himself to sit on his heels. But when the next man was entering the pub Danny was onto his feet and in behind him, keeping to the rear of the man’s flapping coat tails.
You ready yet Uncle Archie?
Christ Almighty look who’s here.
The woman’s closing the cafe.
Uncle Archie had turned to the man sitting beside him: It’s the brother’s boy.
Aw, the man nodded.
What’s up son?
It’s shut, the cafe.
Just a tick, replied Uncle Archie. He lifted the small tumbler to his lips, indicated the pint glass of beer in front of him on the table. Soon as I finish that we’ll be away son. Okay? I’ll be out in a minute.
The foot had stretched out and booted the door shut behind him. He lowered himself onto his heels again. He was gazing at an empty cigarette packet, it was being turned in abrupt movements by the draught coming in the close. He wished he could get a pair of wide trousers. The mother and father were against them. He was lucky to get wearing long trousers at all. The brother was having to wear short trousers and he was in his last year at school, just about ready to start serving his time at the trade. Boys nowadays were going to regret it for the rest of their days because they were being forced into long trousers before they needed to. Wide trousers. He wasnt bothered if he couldnt get the ones with the pockets down the sideseams, the ordinary ones would do.
The door of the pub swung open as a man came out and passed by the close. Danny was at the door. A hot draught of blue air and the smells of the drink, the whirr of the voices, reds and whites and blues and whites all laughing and swearing and chapping at dominoes.
He walked to the chip shop.
Ten number tens and a book of matches Mrs, for my da.
The woman gave him the cigarettes. When she gave his change he counted it slowly, he said: Much are your chips?
Same as the last time.
Will you give us a milky-way, he asked.
He ate half of the chocolate and covered the rest with the wrapping, stuck it into his pocket. He smoked a cigarette; he got to his feet when he had tossed it away down the close.
Edging the door ajar he could see Uncle Archie still at the table. The beer was the same size as the last time. The small tumbler was going back to his lips. Danny sidled his way into the pub, but once inside he went quickly to the long table. He was holding the torn-in-half tickets for the return journey home, clenched in his right hand. He barged a way in between two men and put one of the tickets down on the table quite near to the beer glass.
Not Not While the Giro Page 7
