•••
The smell of cooking was quite strong when he entered the lobby. Closing the door he continued on past the kitchen to his own room. He changed his clothes then lay on the bed. He got up and tugged over the curtains, lay down again, hands clasped beneath his head on the pillow. But he rose moments later.
Margaret was alone. She was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the Evening Times.
He went to the oven and lifted the lid off one of the pots, sniffed loudly: Delicious. I’m starving Margaret! He turned the switch a little, so that the flame became higher.
Dont do that, you’ll just burn it.
Sorry, I was . . . he shrugged, I was only kidding.
She nodded, gazing at the newspaper. He sat on a chair across from her, with his back to the wall, facing away from her. He said: Did you manage up the hospital?
Yes. Yes, I did . . . Margaret stood up; she walked over to the oven, lifted the lid off the pot, glanced inside.
How was she? he asked, pulling the newspaper towards himself.
Fine. The usual.
He nodded. Did she know you? He shut the newspaper, turned it to the back page. Margaret was taking the lid off the other pot which had potatoes boiling in it, and she tested them with a fork. Tammas said again: Did she know you?
Margaret nodded.
Mm. That’s something.
What d’you mean?
Eh . . . Naw – just the last time I was up; remember? She thought I was her brother.
Margaret returned to her chair at the table. He carried on reading for several moments before glancing up, and saying, How was work? Then he dropped his gaze and muttered: Sorry Margaret . . . He looked at her: I’m sorry. The thing is . . .
She had shaken her head.
Placing his elbows on the edge of the table he inclined his head slightly and rubbed the bridge of his nose between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. I was a bit short, had to put in extra for Blackpool and that. He took his hand away from his face and gazed at her: Coming off the machine Margaret, it means a drop in the wages, no bonus or nothing. Labouring rates just, that’s all we’re getting – even them that’s been in the job for years; hopeless . . . Plus there’s a guy owes me a good few pounds. He was supposed to give me it on Friday there but he’s on the panel and there’s no way of getting in touch with him I mean I was thinking of going up to chap his door and that but I dont like to I mean . . . he shrugged.
You kept out my road all weekend.
He sniffed.
Tammas, you kept out my road all weekend. How did you not just tell me? Her arms had been folded but now she had unfolded them. She looked away, shaking her head a little.
I wasnt keeping out your road. I was in the whole of Saturday night, it was just yous were out. I went to bed early and then got up early on the Sunday cause I had to go to Rab’s.
If you didnt have enough money all you had to do was tell me. And then what time did you come in at last night? I never even heard you! Did you come in last night!
What?
Well for all I know it was this morning. Robert didnt hear you either.
I was in the back of 2.
The back of 2?
Aye, the back of 2 . . . He sniffed and glanced at her: I was up at Donnie’s.
Why did you not tell me? you could’ve phoned Mrs Brady up the stair, that’s all you had to do. When I dont even know you’re coming how do I know about food? How am I supposed to know? Did you go in to work even? Or did you just lie in your bed all morning?
He looked away.
After a few moments Margaret got up off her chair and she crossed to the oven.
Eventually he cleared his throat and said, Donnie’s maw was asking for you.
Margaret nodded.
Her and Donnie’s auld man, they’re really knocking their pan in about New Zealand. She’s got lists of her furniture all made up; all ready. It’s good – what she’s done.
Margaret had been forking the potatoes. She settled the lid back on the pot and glanced at the wall-clock.
Where’s Robert?
He’s away a message, she replied after a moment.
Naw, he said, she wants to be ready, Donnie’s maw – so there’ll be no last minute panic once the date comes through.
I didnt know they were going for a while yet . . . Margaret lifted a cloth from the sink and she dabbed at the side of the oven with it.
It’s just she wants to be ready, so when the time comes it means there’ll be no worries about selling the stuff. It’s good but, the way she’s made up the lists and that. She’s going to stick numbers on everything as well. She’s got it all worked out.
Margaret nodded. That’s good.
After a moment or two he turned the back page of the newspaper and began to read. But he stopped almost immediately and he got up and crossed to the cupboard, brought three dinner plates, teacups and saucers from a lower shelf, and cutlery from the top drawer. While he arranged them on the table he asked, Did you see any of the nurses? at the hospital?
Yes . . . yes I did.
Which one?
O, that wee one, her from the highlands.
Tammas smiled. He had returned to the chair and was sitting with one elbow on the edge of the table, his other hand in his trouser pocket.
I know she barks at some of the poor old souls but at least she makes sure nobody takes what doesnt belong to them. Margaret smiled. And she can be cheery when she likes. Anyway, before she came to the ward it was terrible; you could hardly leave a packet of biscuits down without there was somebody pinching it. Grannie was always losing things, it wasnt fair.
Aye. Did you no say she was a gossip but?
No. Margaret shook her head abruptly. The wee highland one? No, not at all; you’re mixing her up.
Mm.
Margaret turned, her back to him; she switched on the cold water tap and washed her hands. When she had dried them and returned the hand-towel to the rail she glanced at the clock again.
Eh Margaret . . . He stood up, nodded at the pots on the oven while lifting a dinner plate: Mind if I take mine the now? I’ll just eat it in the room if it’s okay. I’ve got a book I’m reading.
•••
Three men in suits had appeared on the path outside the factory door. They gazed at the canal, one of them talking and the other two listening. Then a foreman came out to join them. Tammas stepped out from the wall, he strode in their direction. He continued past them and in through the doorway. He strode on across the factory floor to the hoist but when he reached it he paused, then carried straight on up the corridor, and he made his way round to the back staircase leading to the small storeroom on the top floor.
The man in charge was sitting up by the hoist with a clipboard of papers on his lap. Tammas watched him for a time, before sidling in from the fire-escape exit, and moving in behind the large stacks of packing crates. Piles of old sacking lay in the corner. When he reached there he felt in at the bottom of some of it and brought out a couple of Readers’ Digests, and lowered himself down onto the sacking.
A while later the hoist could be heard clanking to a halt, the gates being opened. Shifting some of the higher crates a little he was able to make enough of a gap to see through. Two women from the floor below. A younger one followed them out pushing a barrow; her blue dustcoat was unbuttoned and she had a blouse on and jeans. She was pushing the barrow down towards him while the other two stayed at the hoist gates chatting to the storeman. When she reached a stack about 20 yards off she stopped, and she bent to lift a big cardboard box onto the barrow, lifting one corner only, and then sliding it on; but the weight caused the barrow to move, the box sliding back off to lie on the floor. The girl stood up. She glanced up to the others, she put her hands into the side pockets of her dustcoat and she kicked gently at the cardboard box, making a whistling sound, a tune. The two women were coming. Tammas stood back from the gap between the crates; he lowered himself down onto the
sacking.
The man was saying: Naw, I dont give a fucking monkey’s; it’s wrong. He strode into the smoke-area and sat down facing Ralphie and Tammas. His mate followed him, propped the brush he was carrying against the wall. How’s it going?
Ralphie shrugged. Tammas did not reply.
The first man frowned at them. You heard?
Heard what?
Heard what! The man frowned again and he gestured vaguely around . . . These fucking bastards in here. Fucking O.T. man!
O.T.?
Aye fucking O.T. man! They’re fucking working O.T. man and we’re fucking . . . bastards! He turned and he pointed at a guy who was standing by a machine some distance away. Him and all the rest of the cunts up here.
Heh, said his mate, reaching to him and patting his arm. Take it easy.
Aye no fucking wonder. Make you fucking sick man we’re about to get laid off man and these cunts’re steaming into the fucking O.T.
Ralphie nodded.
The second man said: Did you know?
Put it this way Fred, I’m no surprised.
Hh! He glanced at Tammas: Did you know and all?
Who me – naw, did I fuck, I never knew . . . Tammas turned to Ralphie.
Different department. The older man shrugged: This wing’s nothing to do with us, no when it really comes down to it.
What! The first man gazed at him. What did you say!
I said it’s a different department. Here. It’s fucking different, it’s different from us. He took the pipe from his mouth and he pointed it at the man: Can you work any of their machines?
Course I cant work any of their fucking machines.
The second man glanced at him: Ralphie means cause it’s a different machine man, you cant work it . . . He shook his head. Even if they wanted to let you man you couldnt fucking work it.
I know. So what!
Well, fuck sake.
Look I dont give a fucking monkey’s man it’s out of order. I’ve never heard of anything like this in my fucking puff. Treat you like fucking shite in this place and you all fucking stand back and let them man – fucking . . . He stopped and shook his head.
Come off it, muttered Ralphie.
Well it’s the same fucking factory.
I know it’s the same factory.
Aye well you trying to tell me should fucking stand back and watch them steaming into the fucking O.T. when we’re getting fucking laid off!
Nobody’s getting laid off.
Yet, added the second man.
Ralphie glanced at him. He had the pipe back in his mouth and he sucked on it. He struck a match and began relighting the tobacco. But he blew out the flame and took the pipe back out of his mouth. He dropped a mouthful of spit onto the floor, wiped his boot heel over it. Then he sniffed and stood up. He said to Tammas: Time we were going eh.
Aye. As he followed Ralphie out the smoke-area he called to the other two, See yous later.
They walked in silence to the corner of this wing. There was another stores’ section here and they were assisting the storeman clear old stuff away to create space. Some ten minutes later the other two men could be seen leaving the smoke-area. Tammas paused with the box he was passing to Ralphie and he said: I can see his point but.
Good for you son. The older man took the box from him and turned to lay it on the platform.
Tammas had reddened. After a moment he walked away. He went to the nearby toilet and sat in one of the cubicles.
Back in the stores Ralphie was starting on another stack of boxes. Tammas joined him at it without speaking. Eventually Ralphie said, Another two and we’ll call it a day.
Tammas made no answer.
Then by the time we get over to our bit . . . Ralphie shrugged.
Tammas nodded slightly.
•••
The room was in darkness. He lay there with his eyelids shut. Footsteps down the lobby, from the bathroom to the front room, and the door being opened and closed. He squinted at the alarm clock. It had stopped, it was not ticking. Pulling off the quilt he swung round his legs and sat for a moment; he was wearing jeans and a shirt and had his socks on. He got up, he stretched, standing on his tip-toes and thrusting out his chest, making a groaning sound. And he walked to the window, drew the curtains enough to peer out. It was still raining, the actual drops of water visible as they fell within range of the glow of light from the street lamps. A man was walking from one pavement to the other and his voice was audible, as if he was calling to someone in Tammas’s close. But he was not doing that, he was singing to himself as he walked.
•••
The foreman looked at him when he entered the office.
About Friday afternoon, said Tammas; okay if I get it off? I saw the chargehand at tea-break and he says to ask you.
What is it for?
I’m going away for the weekend.
So am I. So’s a lot of folk. It’s always the same at this time of year.
Tammas sniffed and stared at him.
What is it you want the afternoon for?
Well the bus, it leaves at half three.
Half three?
Aye. And I’ll need to get home and changed and that.
The foreman paused. Then he went on. You shouldnt have got fixed onto a bus that’s leaving when you’re supposed to be at your place of work. I mean that’s daft; it’s silly. Christ, if everybody did that we’d be as well shutting down on bloody Thursday night!
Tammas nodded.
A carry on so it is. The foreman looked at him. You had Monday off this week as it is.
I had diarrhoea.
I know you had diarrhoea.
I phoned in.
I know, we’re grateful.
Tammas glanced at the floor. Look, he said, I’m going with a few of my mates; it was them made the arrangements.
I’m no denying that. I just think you should’ve made sure it wasnt going to interfere with your job. I mean some things are bloody more important than holidays.
Tammas nodded.
Away you go . . . The foreman returned his attention to the things on his desk.
•••
The door had opened. He sat up. And rubbed his eyes when the light came on. Margaret was saying: Somebody at the door.
What?
Billy. I thought you came ben here to read?
I fell asleep.
No wonder, with the light out! Margaret was smiling.
Tammas nodded. He yawned.
Stepping outside his room Margaret called: Come on in and get him Billy.
The footsteps and then Billy was at the door, grinning.
Tammas pulled his shoes out from under the bed, slipped them on and quickly knotted the laces. He grabbed his jerkin from the back of the chair and ushered Billy out into the lobby. When the outside door was shut and they were walking downstairs Billy said: What you doing in bed at fucking 9 o’clock at night! Then he laughed: Dont tell me ya dirty bastard ye.
Shut up ya cunt. Tammas punched him on the shoulder. That’s my fucking social life you’re slagging!
Billy laughed. Naw, he said, I was expecting you in a while ago man.
Hh!
We could’ve gone for a game of snooker.
Tammas stopped. You kidding?
Naw, Christ – too late now.
What did you no come up and get me for! Fuck sake Billy.
Tch aye, I should’ve.
Tammas looked at him and shook his head. I mean I take it you’ve got fucking dough?
Aye. Billy shrugged: I won a couple of quid.
Fuck sake!
Alright alright.
No wonder man. I said I was fucking sorry.
Aye I know but . . . Hh! They continued on down the stairs and out through the close, heading towards Simpson’s.
•••
At dinner time on Friday he redeemed his suit on the road home from work. He met the others in the pub as arranged, the parcel under his arm. John failed t
o appear. Donnie was saying: I knew it, the cunt’s been too miserable to take the afternoon off.
As long as he makes the bus, said Billy.
Ha ha ha! Rab said: I hope he fucking misses it!
Ah give the boy a break, said Donnie.
Ach!
Who’s sleeping with him anyway?
Tammas.
Aw thanks a lot!
The other three laughed.
I didnt even think you were listening! Anyhow . . . Donnie chuckled: You dont have to worry; with five of us it’ll mean he can sleep by himself.
Unless it’s three to one room and two to the other.
Aye you never know right enough.
Billy smiled. It’s alright, I’ll sleep with him.
We can toss for it, replied Donnie.
Naw, said Rab, let him if he wants!
He’s no that fucking bad.
You kidding! You wouldnt know which way to turn with the cunt!
That right? Donnie cried: In that case I’ll fucking sleep with him!
The bus was scheduled to leave Buchanan Street Station at 6.55 pm and they were to meet back in the pub for 5 o’clock. From there they would be taking a taxi to another pub closeby the depot; any latecomer was to go there directly. When Donnie and Rab left to get a bus home the other two strolled along to the betting shop. Billy borrowed a £1 from him. Just for an interest, he said with a grin.
What’re you skint!
I didnt want to take any chances man I left the dough in the house.
Fair enough, said Tammas. He gazed up at the formpage tacked onto the wall then he moved along to the next one. The runners for the 2.30 were being loaded into the stalls. He wrote out his selection and strode to the counter. Billy was in front of him. During the race commentary they stood listening by a radiator. An outsider won. Billy laughed and tore up his receipt, That’s what I get for backing the favourite for a paltry pound!
Tammas nodded.
Mind you, he added and indicated the form, it could’ve been backed.
Aye. Right enough . . . Tammas grinned: Funny how you always fucking spot things like that after the result.
A Chancer Page 6
