It’s you she’s thinking about, said Robert.
Tammas nodded. He turned back again: Actually I didnt really want the job in the first place. I dont really want to work in factories any more.
Hh! Robert grunted, I doubt if you’re going to have any say in the matter the way things’re going!
Tammas shut his eyelids; then he glanced about for his cigarettes and matches, collected them from the table. Margaret sighed and said, We just want to know you’re going to be alright.
Alright?
Well, God, Tammas, we dont know anything really, not about what you’re doing – just suddenly you’ve got piles of money and we dont see hide nor hair of you for days.
What?
You know what I’m talking about.
I dont.
Tch Tammas, you paid all what you owed and then gave us a month’s rent in advance!
He shrugged.
Well it’s a lot of money.
It’s no that much.
Yes it is, it is.
Margaret, God sake, I just won a few quid on the horses.
Hh! Robert grinned.
Margaret was shaking her head. It’s just too much, she was saying, it’s just too much.
Too much? what d’you mean?
It’s too much, the money, to win on the horses.
Tch Margaret, for goodness sake.
Well it is.
Naw it’s no.
It is.
It isnt but, honest – Robert! Tammas gestured at him.
What?
Naw I mean just, will you tell her?
Tell her?
Naw just Christ the money and that, the horses, if she thinks I’m thieving or something.
She doesnt think you’re bloody thieving! Dont be daft.
Well, Christ . . . Tammas had blushed; he inhaled deeply on the cigarette, flicked the grey ash into the sink. He glanced at his sister. Honest, I just won the money on the horses.
Tammas . . . Margaret shook her head, stared at the floor.
I’m sorry.
I’m no wanting you to be sorry.
Well what? Hh, I dont know.
Robert frowned at him.
I’m sorry I mean I’m no being cheeky I just dont know, I dont know what I’m supposed to do, I mean, what I should be saying and that.
Look Tammas all your sister’s wanting to know is you’re going to be okay. That’s all; she’s just bloody worried cause of the way things are going. Let’s face it, they’re no going that good. You cant deny that.
Tammas shrugged.
You chucked your job on the first day; you never gave it a chance. It’ll get kept against you. It’ll be down in black and white.
Mm.
It will but Tammas that’s what bloody happens I mean we just want to know you’re going to be okay. And I’m talking about the future.
I’ll be fine. He glanced at Margaret: Honest, I’ll be fine. I’ve got a girlfriend by the way.
God Tammas we know you’ve got a girlfriend.
Aye well . . . sometimes that’s how I’m away.
Margaret nodded. It’s good you’ve got a girlfriend; we’re no saying anything about that.
Mm.
But in some ways that just adds to it Tammas. Cause how’re you going to live? That’s how I end up getting worried. You’re my wee brother ye know!
Tch Margaret, God sake.
Well, you are!
He dragged on the cigarette, turning to face the window as he blew out the smoke. It was dark outside, light glinting on the wet roof opposite. He dragged on the cigarette again, started gnawing at the edge of his right thumbnail.
It’s a big world out there you know!
It was Margaret had spoken. She was smiling. Tammas smiled back at her, and he added: To be honest, I’m going to be going away quite soon.
Are you?
Aye. He shrugged.
Margaret was gazing at him.
Robert glanced at her before asking, Whereabouts?
Eh, Peterhead probably.
Probably?
Tammas nodded. He lifted the teapot, put it back down again. I’ve been considering going to England as well – Manchester.
Manchester? said Margaret.
Aye.
What for?
To work. That’s where John is. He’s been trying to get me and Billy to go and stay with him. There’s bags of jobs down there he says. Mainly factories right enough. That’s how I’d rather go to Peterhead, because of the actual job. Getting into the building game I mean I’d really like to get into it. You make good money and then you can move about as well. Plus cause you’re up there you might hear about the North Sea.
Are you talking about the rigs? said Robert – cause if you are you’re talking about really hard graft. Really hard graft. Aye and the conditions arent that good either!
Tammas nodded, he cleared his throat.
It’s no all it’s cracked up to be, that’s all I’m saying.
Are you just going to go yourself? asked Margaret.
Eh, naw I’ll probably be going with somebody. No mind? I was telling you a wee while ago – a guy called McCann.
O. Is he working?
What do you mean just now?
Margaret nodded.
Naw, he’s been on the broo a few months. That’s how he’s looking for a job. He’s an electrician.
Mm, I see.
Robert said, What’s his name again?
McCann; I’m no sure if you know him. He drinks in Simpson’s.
I might’ve seen him around.
Probably have.
Robert nodded.
Tammas inhaled on the cigarette, tapped the grey ash into the rubbish bin, and he said, I think I’ll go ben the room . . . Okay?
Margaret shrugged after a moment.
•••
He had waited until past midnight before leaving the house and he left without bidding Goodnight; his sister and brother-in-law had been watching a picture on television.
Although the rain had stopped the street was wet, quite a few puddles on the pavement. At the corner he bought a Daily Record from a paperboy and he got a taxi in less than five minutes. When he arrived down the lane the door of the club opened and two guys came out. They seemed a bit drunk and were talking back to Deefy. But Deefy was not paying much attention. He spotted Tammas and called: How’s it going son?
No bad Deefy, no bad – how’s yourself?
Deefy shrugged, pursed his lips. He stared after the two till they reached the end of the lane, before replying. Fucking horses! He stepped back inside the doorway, staying there until Tammas had entered . . . See the results the day!
Naw, I never had a bet.
You never had a bet?
Naw.
Wise man – fucking murder! He followed Tammas along the corridor and into the snacks’ room. It was quite busy, a few men but mainly women. Deefy had paused to speak to an old fellow Tammas recognised as a newspaper vendor who had a pitch near Queen Street Station. He carried on, straight through into the gaming room. It was busy here also and he could see Joe standing over by the corner of the horseshoe table, on the fringes of the spectators; he was smoking a cigar. There was a man beside him and whispering something to him. Joe’s head was lowered as he listened, one hand in his overcoat pocket, the other holding the cigar behind his back. It seemed as if nobody else was talking in the entire room.
Tammas waited a short period. He crossed the floor to the corner opposite where Joe was; and he nodded to him but Joe appeared not to notice. There were no cards out on the table. They were all in the shoe. And the dealer was sitting back on his chair, arms folded, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. He had on a waistcoat which was unbuttoned and his braces were showing, old fashioned ones that functioned with buttons instead of clips. His two workers were both sitting with their hands clasped on the table and not looking anywhere in particular. Eventually the dealer yawned and said: I’ll wait here all fucking nigh
t.
Nobody answered.
The dealer was gazing at the ceiling when he had spoken, but now he unfolded his arms and took the cigarette from his mouth, inhaling as he did so. He looked round the room and sighed, and he put the cigarette back into his mouth and clasped and unclasped his hands; he looked at a man sitting amongst the players and said: See Jimmy I know it was you.
It wasnt me Jake.
Jimmy. It was you. I fucking know it was you.
It wasnt.
The dealer sniffed and muttered, It fucking was you.
Honest Jake it wasnt.
The dealer shook his head and he sighed, and he clasped his hands and stared straight at the man. The two boys had their money out on the fucking table, he said. And they had a fucking tenner. Next thing it was a fiver. And it was you that fucking took it.
It wasnt me at all.
It fucking was Jimmy.
It wasnt but honest, honest Jake.
I dont believe you. I just dont believe you – they werent that fucking drunk! The dealer continued to sit looking in the direction of the man. And the silence continued for several seconds. Eventually he said, I think you should just go home out the road Jimmy.
But I never fucking took the money.
Course you fucking took the money! The dealer smiled and sat back on the chair again. He folded his arms and glanced at the worker to his right. Then he sniffed and took the fag from his mouth and he jerked his thumb at the door into the snacks’ room. Jimmy, he said, fuck off.
The man cleared his throat as though about to reply.
Okay? Just fuck off . . . The dealer turned his head away, his eyelids flickering shut. He dragged deeply on the cigarette, gazing vaguely in the direction of where Tammas was standing.
Suddenly the man stood up from his seat and the guys behind stepped out of his path as he strode to the exit, staring straight ahead.
Somebody strolled to close the door behind him. A moment passed, then several conversations broke out. The dealer was muttering to the worker on his right: It fucking sickens me when that happens but I’m no kidding ye, it just fucking sickens me.
Should’ve his fucking hands cut off.
The dealer nodded, reaching to the shoe; and he began lifting out all the cards. Here, he said, shuffle them for a new deck . . . He glanced towards the punters and asked, Where’s the bank got to? I’ve bloody forgot with all this carry on.
There was some laughter. Eventually it was sorted out. The two workers were still shuffling the cards and different conversations continued. Across the other side from Tammas Joe was moving away and he and the man with him walked to the door. Tammas stepped out from the row of spectators and gave him a wave. Joe grinned. How you doing Tammas?
No bad, yourself?
No complaints . . . he introduced the other man as Eric. We’re just heading up the Royal, he said, this place gets too noisy sometimes.
Eric grimaced, shaking his head.
Tammas smiled.
Come with us if you want.
Nah it’s okay Joe thanks.
Naw, come on, you’re alright.
Ah well okay.
Be a game of poker later on . . . Joe held the door open for him and as they walked behind Deefy to the exit he asked, Still seeing wee Vi?
Aye.
Joe glanced at Eric: He’s winching wee Vi Wylie.
Is he? Eric peered at Tammas and said: Are you?
Well no really winching I mean we’re . . . he sniffed. We’re seeing each other right enough.
Nice wee lassie.
Tammas nodded.
No out with her the night? said Joe.
Naw.
Course she’s got that wee wean to look after.
Aye.
Tricky and that for babysitters? asked Eric.
No too bad.
Eric nodded. Deefy was holding the outside door open for them and the trio exchanged Goodnights with him.
The Royal was also busy. In the coffee lounge Tammas ordered an omelette and chips. Joe and the other guy had coffee and they sat drinking it with him while he waited. When the woman appeared with it from the kitchen he got up and so did the other two. See you when you come ben, said Joe. He and Eric walked to the door through into the casino but then he turned back alone and he said quietly, Hey Tammas you okay for the poker?
Aye.
About cash I mean. Sometimes on a Friday they make it a fifty sit in.
A fifty! Christ, I thought it was just twenty.
Sometimes, aye. It depends. Not if there’s money about.
Tammas shrugged.
Wee Vi’d give me a doing if she thought I was leading you astray! Joe grinned, speaking quietly.
D’you think it’ll be fifty the night like?
Could be. And it’s stud they play. No quarter!
Tammas looked at him. The woman was returning him his change: Just keep it, he said, lifting his plate and reaching for a knife and fork. He glanced sideways. I’m alright Joe.
Fair enough, aye. Joe tapped him on the shoulder, turned to leave.
Eh Joe . . . Tammas paused with the plate and cutlery in his hands. That guy Stan’s no in the night is he?
Stan? Naw – no Stan; he never comes – no unless the women are here or something.
Aw.
How? D’you want to see him?
Naw.
Joe nodded. He was looking at Tammas: Okay?
Aye, Christ, fine.
Stan’s alright.
Aye.
A nice big guy. Joe grinned: You dont worry about him do ye!
Naw.
Good. Okay . . . Joe patted him on the shoulder before leaving.
He took his time in eating the omelette and chips, gazing at the following evening’s dog card at Shawfield. There was one going he fancied quite strongly. He had backed it last time out and it had just failed to get up on the line. Now it was getting an extra yard in the handicap and had to have a chance. He put a tick against it with his pen, then ate the last couple of chips, finished off the coffee, strolled through to the gaming section.
He had £52 of a wad, enough to play poker and just about be comfortable with, but not much more than that. But there was no point trying to improve it on the tables. That was how it got frittered away, the quick route to going skint. According to Joe the only game worth playing was chemmy – except for poker. And all you had to do was look at the kind of folk playing here in comparison to those back at the club. There was money but not much else. Real punters like Deefy and them would hardly watch roulette never mind play it. Tammas had never seen Joe gambling at any of the tables, just occasionally standing by one while talking to somebody. And it was very seldom he ever went near at all when Milly was playing. She always played roulette, nearly always at the same table, and she tried to sit next to the wheel. There were two women sitting at her usual place just now. Tammas recognised them vaguely. Both were wearing long dresses of a style similar to the one Rena’s best maid had worn at the wedding, the dresses stopping short at the top of the breasts so that the cleavage was quite easy to see. When Vi was in with Milly what she did was stick to the even money bets. And occasionally she won, and would stop while ahead. There was a Chinese guy on the opposite side of the table. He was betting after the same sort of method. He had a card and he was marking in numbers, he was in the midst of a winning sequence. The 19–36 he was gambling. Tammas watched him win four times in succession and on each occasion his bet was six £5 chips. The sequence ended when number 11 appeared. And he did not bet in the next, nor the next. Tammas lighted a cigarette. The two women were using the individually coloured chips, spreading them about on single numbers. That was the way Milly gambled. They were not talking to each other while they were doing it. One of them seemed to be winning a lot. The Chinese guy was now making a bet – the odd column, again for the six £5s. The metal ball was spinning and some latecomers were putting down bets quickly and methodically. Number 33: and the Chinese guy wa
s a winner. So too the woman who seemed to be winning a lot. The croupier stacked out the chips for her and then for him. He lifted six and left six, and lighted a plain cigarette. There was a brief pause. Then the croupier was whirling off the wheel with his left hand while flicking the ball in with his right, and leaning back a little, listening to something being whispered by another of the casino employees. And again people were stretching to make their bets and Tammas also was leaning forwards and he dropped £50 down onto the black bed, and stepped back, folding his arms and holding the cigarette to his mouth with his left hand. The croupier glanced at him then exchanged the notes for ten £5 chips, stuffing them through a slot to the side of the wheel; and the smooth whirr of the ball spinning was becoming a rattling noise and the croupier called, No more bets. The ball settled into a red number. It was also an odd number and the Chinese guy was a winner. Tammas nodded slightly, inhaled on the cigarette. And he waited there until the ball was spinning once again.
Eric was across at the craps table, leaning his elbows on the rim of it, totally engrossed in the play. Joe was nowhere to be seen.
On his way out Tammas stopped and went into the coffee lounge. A man was sitting at the table he had been at before and was reading the Daily Record. Tammas said, That’s mine – I just left it there.
The man shrugged, he closed it over and passed it up.
I’ve no finished reading it myself . . . Tammas sniffed. He rolled it up while heading to the exit.
•••
If I was drawing you, he said, moving his right forefinger down over the bridge of her nose and her lips, and down and along the line of her shoulder to the top of her arm; he tugged the blankets down a little, continuing the line round the curve of her left breast, moving his finger beneath and lifting it slightly, now moving the back of his hand in beneath it and he stared at her until she glanced at him out the corner of her eye. Sometimes eyes look like fish.
O thanks, thanks a lot.
Naw, just from side on like this when you’re looking . . . His head was resting on the palm of his left hand, propping himself on the elbow. He withdrew the hand from beneath her breast and she shifted her position a bit, still lying quite straight on her back with her right arm beside him, the hand on his left thigh. He returned his forefinger onto her forehead again, retracing the outline of her profile, this time bringing the tip of his finger round the lines within her left ear.
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