A Chancer

Home > Other > A Chancer > Page 8
A Chancer Page 8

by Kelman, James


  •••

  It was 9 pm and a Friday evening, and he was in a pub up the town. From there he strolled along to the dancing. The doorman scarcely glanced at him as he entered and paid his money. At this time of night females and couples were the main people present. Nobody at all was on the floor dancing. Tammas bought a bottle of beer and he carried it upstairs to the balcony. He sat at one of the empty tables, taking an Evening Times from his side pocket; he glanced at the racing results then turned to the page with the following day’s race programme. Across from him, a few tables off, sat a couple. While the girl sat with her elbows on the edge of the table the guy kept bending and kissing the nape of her neck. Eventually Tammas shifted on his chair so that he was not facing in their direction, turned a page of the newspaper; then he brought out his cigarettes and matches, but he stopped there.

  John was approaching.

  He was making his way over from the top of the staircase, a glass of beer in one hand and pointing at Tammas with the other, and laughing quite loudly. Ya bastard! he was saying. He put the glass down on the table and settled onto the chair opposite. So this is where you’ve been fucking hiding yourself!

  How’s it going John?

  Ya bastard! John laughed and shook his head. D’you know something? You’re bad news!

  Tammas sniffed. He lifted his own glass of beer, sipped at it.

  Naw no kidding ye man, bad news! John drank another mouthful of beer and he laughed once more. Heh you been in long? Christ – imagine finding you here!

  Tammas nodded; and he turned slightly to gaze over the balcony rail, down onto the floor. A few people were now up dancing.

  You should’ve told me Tammas. I’ve been wanting to start coming for ages. Same as the night I mean we’re sitting in fucking Simpson’s as usual and I says to Billy, d’you never get fucking sick of this man! Bad enough having to come every Saturday night but every fucking Friday night as well!

  Tammas looked back at him, then added: Hh.

  Aye, went on John. So I just ended up I got fucking up and walked out.

  Did you . . .

  Aye. Fucking browned off man, just sitting about there all night, week in week out . . . John frowned and he leaned closer to Tammas and he whispered: How the fuck do they ever expect to get a lumber man? I mean fuck sake – Simpsons!

  85

  Tammas chuckled.

  Naw I mean even trying to get them to go up the fucking town for a change; new pubs, new scenery, the discos – anyfuckingthing!

  You’ve got a point John.

  They both drank from their glasses of beer. John grinned across at him. So this is where you’ve been hiding! You’re a fucking fox Tammas – see if Donnie knew!

  Tammas smiled.

  But what about yon lassie? Betty – what about her?

  He shrugged. Ach, just passing the time. The now I mean, being up here.

  Aw aye. John nodded. Are you still going with her like?

  Eh . . . I dont think so, no really.

  Aw, aye . . . John nodded again then lifted his glass and swallowed a mouthful of beer.

  The queue at the bar had lengthened and he had to wait a while to be served. Everybody was having to shout their orders to be heard above the general noise. Tammas bought four bottles of beer. Back upstairs he told John, It’ll save time.

  Good thinking. John took his first one and poured it into his glass. Then he leaned forwards across the table; he sniffed and whispered: See them along at the next table up from the pillar. He nodded his head in that direction and added, One of them’s got a blue blouse and black hair. What d’you think man?

  Tammas wrinkled his nose. Wait a wee minute yet.

  Aye okay, but I’m just saying man I mean . . .

  Aye but we’re no in a rush.

  Naw I know that but eh – no fancy it man? Eh? they’re no that bad. I mean it doesnt matter if we get a knockback.

  Tammas looked at him.

  Naw I mean Christ, everybody gets a fucking knockback now and again.

  I know that John; fuck sake, I’m no worried about that.

  Well then, Christ, just to get started.

  It’s only fucking ten o’clock.

  John nodded and looked away. He lifted his glass and held it, not drinking, staring down at the people dancing below. When the song ended he continued staring down for several moments, until the next one began. He turned to Tammas: Hey man I heard you’d chucked the job?

  Did you?

  Aye.

  Hh.

  Billy was telling us the night; he met your big sister or something.

  Tammas nodded.

  So he said.

  More people were getting onto the floor now. Some were coming from upstairs, including the two girls sitting along by the pillar. John pointed them out below and he made to say something, but Tammas nodded and stood to his feet. Okay, he said, and he grinned and rubbed his hands together.

  Great! John got up at once then hesitated, indicated the beer. What d’you reckon?

  We’ll chance it, come on.

  The girls were dancing together, not too far from the edge of the floor, where there was now a row of tables and chairs. Tammas and John walked forward, strolling round the side of each one, and began dancing, without saying anything. The girls moved slightly from facing each other, so that they were more in the direction of Tammas and John. And John began to call to the one with the blue blouse and dark hair, attempting a conversation. Soon afterwards Tammas had edged his dancing in such a way that he and his partner were facing away from John and the other girl.

  He gazed to the side of his partner’s head, towards the band, watching the female vocalist as she sang the chorus at one of the guitarists. The girl he was with was taller than John’s. She had yet to look in his direction. For a time he looked at her but still she stared elsewhere. At the end of the song he said: You staying on the floor?

  She shook her head. He nodded and walked off immediately. John was behind him, tapping him on the shoulder: See mine! he was saying; Terrible! No kidding you Tammas, trying to chat her and that man like talking to a brick wall so it was, fucking murder man – what about yours?

  Tammas continued on up the stairs to the balcony. Their beer was still lying on the table and nobody was sitting there. John made straight for the rail and sat down on the seat nearest, gazing over. There they are, he said. See them?

  Tammas nodded but remained where he was; the position he was in it was not possible to see over. He lighted a cigarette, glanced round about, then said, How’s the time?

  I’ve no got my watch on. Still early but . . . John returned his attention to the dance floor, and added: Would you ask them up again?

  Would I fuck.

  Naw, neither would I man. There’s plenty other yins but. John sat around and raised his glass and drank the rest of the beer, and he reached for his second bottle, poured it in.

  Tammas sniffed. To be honest about it John I think I’ll get going I mean I actually only came in to pass the time.

  What, how d’you mean?

  Naw man I just eh, came in to pass the time, I wasnt going to stay.

  Tch, fuck sake Tammas.

  Naw – Christ, that was how I came, just in out the rain for an hour, Trying to keep out the boozer!

  John nodded. Then he stared over the parapet.

  Honest man, I’m going somewhere else.

  Are you?

  Aye, Christ. Tammas had poured in his second bottle of beer and he drank most of it in one go. He rose, I’m just leaving this.

  Where is it you’re going?

  Eh it’s a club.

  Aw.

  Well no really a club man a kind of casino, it’s a kind of casino.

  A casino? Is it that one you were telling us about already?

  Aye, probably. He pointed at his glass, the beer that was left in it. I’m just leaving that . . . I mean if eh . . .

  John nodded. He had lifted his own and was now dri
nking it all down. He stood up afterwards, wiping his lips. I’ll come with you, he said.

  Tammas looked at him.

  Naw I’m no fucking doing anything anyway man I mean it looks like it’s going to be fucking rubbish here I mean . . . He shrugged and went on. See sometimes you start off bad you feel things arent going to work out I mean that fucking lassie with the blue blouse man you could tell she wasnt fucking interested. I knew it right away – no fucking point even trying man.

  Fine.

  •••

  Rain was falling quite heavily and neither had an overcoat. They walked quickly, occasionally trotting, keeping in as close to the buildings as possible. When they arrived down the lane Tammas rang the bell next to the POSITIVELY MEMBERS ONLY notice while John remained out beyond the small entrance lobby in the shadows. He had to ring the bell again. There was an orange light contained inside it which went out once the button was pressed. He glanced at John, pursing his lips and shrugging. Then the door opened. The doorman was more than 6' tall. He said: Aye?

  Hello, replied Tammas, and made to enter. But the doorman stood where he was.

  Where you going son?

  Well I was going to go inside. Is it alright I mean can you sign us in or what?

  Sign you in? The doorman frowned. You been here before like?

  Aye, a couple of weeks ago.

  The doorman shook his head.

  Well more than that. But I definitely got in and I’m sure it was you done the signing for me – there was three of us.

  It wasnt me signed you in son, it must have been one of the ones you were with. The doorman glanced sideways along the lane. Then he muttered: Who was it you were with anyway?

  Murdie McKinnon, and a guy called Rankine, I cant mind his first name.

  The doorman nodded. I know wee Murdie . . . He looked at John and added: Many are you?

  Just the two.

  Ah right you are then okay . . . The man stood to the side, opening the door for them. But mind, no noise or fuck all. And you better get yourself a membership card in future.

  They walked along a short corridor into a fairly narrow room where a woman was serving coffee and tea and a variety of snacks from behind a counter. Half a dozen tables with about four chairs round each stood near to the opposite wall. Mostly women were there, young women, sitting chatting or else gazing up at the large television set on a high shelf up from the counter. John had ordered coffees and two chocolate biscuits; he carried them to where Tammas was standing, and he indicated two empty chairs. No fancy a seat? he whispered.

  Naw. Tammas took the coffee and the biscuit from him, headed towards the door at the top end of the room. When he laid his hand on the handle John frowned and said quietly, Tammas, no fancy sitting down in here?

  Naw, no here.

  John murmured, All the women and that I mean . . . see that wee blonde sitting down there near the door – naw man no kidding ye but she was looking, she was looking, no kidding ye, when I was up there at the counter and that, honest man I’m no kidding ye.

  Tammas nodded as he opened the door. They’re all brass-nails, he whispered. Every one of them man they’re on the game.

  What?

  Aye . . . He held the door ajar for John to come in then closed it quietly.

  The other room had been quite noisy because of the television and this room was also noisy, but the noise came from the game of cards taking place. Some twenty or so men were grouped around three sides of a horseshoe table; at the fourth side sat the dealer between his two workers, one of whom was wearing a bunnet while the other wore a sort of fedora. Several poker tables lay idle; at one of them a man sprawled, asleep, his head cradled on his folded forearms.

  When they finished the snack they put in £1.50 each for their joint stake. Tammas was to play the cards. The game was chemin de fer. He stood behind the row of spectators who were standing just out from the table. He stood for more than twenty minutes. At first he replied when John spoke but gradually he stopped it and edged in closer to the table. Now that the pubs had closed it was becoming more crowded in the room. Tammas held £1 in his hand. The next chance he got he leaned across one of the seated players’ shoulders and laid it down. And the worker wearing the fedora covered the bet immediately. Tammas stepped back.

  About quarter of an hour later their £3 stake was up to £8. John tapped him on the arm. He was holding another two coffees. Thought you might be a bit thirsty, he said.

  Aw aye. Ta . . . Tammas took the cup; he stood for a moment then he raised it to his mouth but the worker with the fedora waved him way from the table and called: Just in case you spill it son.

  Tammas nodded. As he moved away from the table he muttered, I wasnt really feeling like this John.

  John led the way to one of the poker tables.

  Tammas lighted a cigarette and then sipped at his coffee, gazing back across at the game. John grinned and shrugged. Hey, he asked, much we winning?

  Eh, about a fiver I think.

  A fiver. Great, great stuff. No fancy splitting?

  Tammas smiled.

  Naw serious man I mean, no fancy it?

  I thought you were kidding.

  Christ Tammas when you think about it, Christ, we might end up losing it back again. Fiver’s a fiver I mean that’s two and half each man.

  Tammas took the money out of his trouser pocket and peeled off four singles, and gave them to him. John sniffed while lifting them, he put them in his trouser pocket. Then he brought them back out. Look, he said, are you wanting to hang on or what?

  Aye.

  Okay then I mean . . . He shrugged and returned the money.

  You dont have to John, I can carry on on my tod.

  Naw, he said, naw.

  You sure?

  Aye. Tell you what, give us a pound back; you take yours as well; so’s if we lose then we’re only losing 50p. Eh?

  Good, aye . . . Tammas grinned. That’s sense. He stood up and returned to the chemmy.

  John was tapping him on the shoulder. It’s after 1 o’clock, he was saying, I’m going – make sure I catch the half one bus from the Square.

  Okay man; if I get a turn I’ll come up your place the morrow afternoon.

  Today afternoon!

  Aye . . . You alright I mean or do you need another couple of quid for the fare?

  Naw naw, it’s okay Tammas.

  You sure?

  Aye.

  Outside of the immediate space round the table the gaming room was deserted now; but among those present a few were spectating, mainly losers. Tammas was sitting on a seat at one of the smaller sides of the table. From a peak of £24 his money had declined to £1, and it had been more than twenty minutes since he had managed to get a bet on. The bank travelled back to him. About to let it pass he shrugged and tossed in one of the 50 pence pieces. The dealer grimaced. The worker wearing the fedora hat – his name was Deefy – turned to mutter: It’s getting a bit late for fifty pence pieces young yin. It’s just prolonging the agony.

  Tammas hesitated.

  A man sitting farther along smiled suddenly and pushing three singles £1 notes onto the centre of the baize said: Since you’re no everybody son.

  The other worker returned the man the 50 pence piece. The dealer nodded: Fine Erskine . . . right lad it’s a three pound box.

  The bet was covered at once and he flicked the first card of the bank to the man called Erskine; but he passed it straight on to Tammas, face down. And the second was flicked to him directly.

  The bank’s opponent asked for a card and was dealt a 10. Tammas showed a pair of 2’s and won. He won the next hand also, and the bank now had £12 going onto the third round. Erskine gave him a wink as he reached for the cards. Two 4’s. Turning them face up immediately he called: Natural.

  Is a winner, replied his opponent, throwing his cards in.

  The dealer collected the £24, deducting £3 house-puggy which he folded and slid through a slot on the edge of the tab
le. Okay lads, he called, there’s twenty one quid to go; all or any part.

  The previous loser quickly bankoed the sum. On receiving his cards he asked for another; he was given a 7.

  Tammas was showing 6; after a moment he also asked for another card and he was dealt a 5. Aw Christ, he said.

  The other man shook his head and grunted: Dont worry about it son. And he threw down his cards, a 3 and a 10 to go with his 7, which all totalled 0.

  Brilliant play: laughed Erskine. Your one’s a winner kid – you did the right thing taking a card. Here . . . He opened a packet of thin cigars and tossed one across the baize.

  Tammas grinned and struck a match to light it.

  The loser was counting a wad of notes onto the pile in the centre of the table. The dealer raised his head, he turned to Tammas: What you doing son, you wanting any money out?

  Naw, it’s alright.

  The dealer glanced at the loser. Okay Davie, you’ve got the bet.

  When the cards had been dealt the man spread his calmly, showing two 4’s. Natural, he said.

  Same. Tammas showed a 3 and a 5.

  Jesus Christ!

  The dealer frowned at him.

  Deefy called: It’s a good paddle Davie.

  Good paddle! Hh! The guy turned his head, he reached into his pocket and got out a cigarette, and lighted it.

  Okay . . . The dealer tapped the table then dealt the cards from the shoe. He looked at Davie who shook his head, and he turned to Tammas who spread his two cards on the baize, showing 7.

  Aw for fuck sake! Davie stood up from his seat and threw in his cards. He sat back down again, put his elbow on the table and laid his chin in the palm of the hand.

  The money and the cards were still lying on the baize. The dealer and the two workers had sat back on their seats and were lighting cigarettes. Eventually the dealer sat forwards, put the cigarette in his mouth and lifted the money, counted it, extracted the puggy and folded it into the slot. He glanced at Erskine.

  Erskine nodded. Pass mine, he said. He smiled at Tammas. I’m passing son, it cant last forever.

  Tammas shrugged and inhaled on the cigar; then he nodded and turned his head to blow out the smoke, coughing slightly. And he watched the dealer count the bank’s money into four piles, and pass three of them plus part of the other one, up to Erskine.

 

‹ Prev