A Chancer (11 page)

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 table. 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.

Okay kid, the dealer said, you’ve got fifteen quid – what you doing? Want to withdraw anything?

Tammas was staring down at the money and made no answer.

The dealer looked at him. Listen, you were only in for a sixth of what was there – half a quid to Erskine’s two and a half. As it is I’ve had to stick you in a couple of bob to
make up the round fifteen.

Aye, said Deefy. You’ve got to mind there’s a puggy coming off.

Tammas shrugged. Might as well leave it all in then.

The previous loser bankoed the money immediately. Tammas won again and the man bankoed once more, on the £30. When he lost he sat staring at the money for some time, he was still holding
his wallet in one hand.

Davie . . . The dealer asked, What you doing?

The guy looked at him.

You wanting eh . . . ? The dealer nodded his head at the money on the baize.

Naw. Davie slid the wallet into the inside pocket in his jacket and got up off his seat, he walked across the floor and out of the room.

The dealer raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips; he glanced quickly at Deefy and shrugged. Then he put the cigarette in his mouth and taking the puggy from the bank he said to Tammas,
You’ve got fifty four quid son.

Give me a score.

Once he had passed him it the dealer glanced round at everybody. Thirty four quid lads, all or any part.

There was an immediate rush from the punters. Apart from the previous loser nobody had managed to get a bet on since the third round of the current bank. Both workers moved quickly trying to see
that those who had stuck their money down first were covered, but even so there were a few grumbles. The dealer remained silent. He sat back on his chair smoking, one hand behind his head. Then he
put the cigarette in his mouth and leaned forwards, tapped the table and flicked the cards from the shoe.

The man who had made the largest bet of the punters was given the cards; and he asked for another. The dealer gave him a 2. Tammas turned his and stayed on 4 to win. He inhaled the cigar and
coughed, he pulled over an ashtray and ground it out then lighted one of his cigarettes. The dealer was looking at him, indicating the money. Tammas said, Give us thirty; split five for the
workers; the rest goes.

The dealer smiled. He counted the £30 swiftly and passed it over, then he gave Deefy the additional £5. Deefy nodded to Tammas. And the other worker called: Ta son.

The cards were dealt. Tammas won again and waved his hand when the dealer glanced at him. And the dealer paused a moment, gathered up the money and called: Okay lads, there’s fifty eight
quid here says there’s a bet for every one of yous.

After the initial flurry of money there was a fairly quick dwindling of it. The dealer grinned: I’ll take it in coppers!

A few of the men laughed, and began digging into their pockets. One of them brought out a ten pound note, some lesser stakes were laid down; then nothing. The dealer glanced at two men who were
sitting next to each other. They had not placed a solitary bet since Tammas had taken the bank. The dealer pushed the shirt cuff back off his wrist and he examined his watch, muttering, Could be
the last hand this, if we dont get moving soon.

One of the pair sniffed; the other one nodded, he placed five fivers on the baize.

Pony’s a good bet, replied the dealer, and he looked round at the rest of the players. Another tenner and we go.

One of the spectators stepped forwards; his hand came out of his coat pocket and he tossed two crumpled £1 notes onto the table.

Deefy lifted them and smoothed them and he winked at the guy. Stopped raining anyway Tommy – nice night for a walk!

The guy laughed. And soon the remaining £8 was taken by different punters. And the dealer was tapping the table and calling: Okay lads, we go . . .

The major bettor was given the punters’ cards. He looked at them for a couple of seconds before saying: No card.

Tammas asked for one and the dealer flicked him a 7. That’s it, said Tammas, and he showed his other two – both face-cards.

The opposition tossed in his cards and shook his head: I’ve got 7 as well!

Another good paddle! called the worker with the bunnet.

Him and his fucking paddles, muttered a man.

Somebody from behind called: You cant beat that boy.

Then Deefy said. It’s only a draw lads it’s only a draw. Good yin but! He glanced at Tammas and winked.

The dealer had folded his arms and leaned back on his chair, gazing round at everybody. The conversations going on were quite noisy but eventually those doing the talking began to stop, and to
look at the dealer. He sighed and grunted, Is that us got a bit of order at last?

Once the cards had been dealt the punters’ man glanced at his and made to speak. But before he did so Tammas was upturning his own pair and calling: 9 – natural!

Deefy grinned and he lifted the cards and put them next to each other on the centre of the table. A good 9, he said.

The reaction was not as loud as on the paddle; but three men left the game immediately and a couple of others moved away to sit at one of the poker tables. The dealer opened his cigarette packet
and lighted a fresh one from the burning end of the old one. He passed one each to the workers, then glanced at Tammas but closed the packet when he saw he was smoking already.

All the money and the cards were still lying in a heap towards the middle of the baize. Deefy and the other worker had moved their chairs back the way and were conducting a conversation behind
the dealer.

Tammas had borrowed the following morning’s
Daily Record
from a man and was reading the back pages. After a bit he turned to the racing, and noticed the workers now leaning to take
in the cards. They began shuffling for a new shoe. He shut the newspaper and returned it to the man.

Okay, said the dealer. Much you wanting son?

Much have I got?

Hundred and sixteen.

Tammas frowned at the money on the baize.

The dealer smiled: Want me to count it? He sniffed and began to do so immediately.

It’s alright.

But the dealer continued, sorting it into wads of £20. A hundred and sixteen it is. Much you wanting.

See what you can get on.

Okay . . . The dealer paused and smiled before saying: Right you are lads, quite a bit to go now.

A few grunts greeted this. Then a voice saying: How much exactly Jake?

Eh . . . The dealer glanced up. It was Erskine back.

Much is it? For a banko.

The dealer glanced sideways: You sure you dont want something out son?

Eh naw, eh what about the workers maybe? Give them the odd six quid. And the puggy as well? What about it?

Fuck the puggy! The dealer grinned and extracted six singles and passed them to Deefy. Then he smiled at Erskine. You’ve got a hundred and ten.

Erskine nodded. He had taken a thick wad of notes from his trouser pocket and began counting. But one of the two men who had lost most of the last bet suddenly stood up. Wait a minute, he cried,
this is fucking ridiculous. I just done a forty there! A forty – and you’re trying to tell me I’ve not to get a chance to get my money back!

The dealer stared at him.

Fuck sake Jake!

A silence followed. Then Erskine said: Fair enough. Let them get as much on as they like – I’m no bothering.

Well it’s up to you, said the dealer. But as far as I’m concerned you’ve bankoed the bet. And a banko’s a banko in this club.

Erskine shrugged.

The other man nodded and sat down again. He and his mate counted exactly £40 out and deposited it on the baize. Deefy quickly covered it with £40 from the bank. The dealer called:
Okay lads, get the money down!

And wee bets were laid and covered, some of them coin stacks which Deefy and the other worker checked through methodically. As soon as there was a pause the dealer said: Finished. That’s
it.

Seventy two quid, said Deefy.

Seventy two, called the dealer.

Erskine nodded: It’s a bet.

The dealer stuck the cigarette back in his mouth and he dealt quickly, sliding the cards out from the shoe, keeping his right forefinger on each. One of the punters at the front took the cards
and kept them face down, neither looking at them nor letting anyone else look at them; he passed them up to Erskine who asked for another. The dealer flipped him a 9, then he glanced at Tammas.
Tammas turned his two cards over, two 2’s. Beat it, he said.

Erskine shook his head. I cant; I cant beat it. He shrugged and tossed in his cards.

Fucking hell, muttered somebody.

And somebody else sighed. Apart from that it was silent for several seconds.

Tammas put his hand in his pocket to get his cigarettes, and noticed he had one still burning in the ashtray, but it had almost burned down onto the tip. He tapped the ash off then ground it
out. A cigarette landed beside his hand. It had been thrown by the dealer. Ta, he said.

The dealer nodded. He turned to the other worker and whispered something to him, and the man got up off his seat and walked ben the snacks’ room. Then he turned back to Tammas again, and
he gestured at the piles of money and pursed his lips. Take it son, he said. Unless . . . he glanced up towards Erskine.

You joking! Erskine smiled. No me Jake. The boy’s a machine.

The dealer nodded; he glanced briefly round at the other punters and shook his head. He pointed at the money again. On you go son . . . they’re finished.

Tammas nodded.

Both the dealer and Deefy helped him tidy all the money, separating it out into the different denominations. There were a few pounds in silver coins. Tammas took the notes and left the rest
lying. Eh . . . he shrugged at the dealer, indicating it. The workers, eh . . . he shrugged again.

The dealer nodded. He sorted out £5 in 50 pence pieces and gave it to Deefy, leaving the rest in the centre of the baize. Okay lads! He called: Okay lads . . . there’s about six quid
here for the first Jack, the first Jack for six quid!

Most of the previous punters and most of the spectators all returned to the table.

Tammas left his seat quickly, stuffing the notes into his trouser pocket and keeping his hand inside.

In the other room Erskine was standing chatting to the doorman and the woman who served behind the counter. The very boy, he grinned. Hey son, d’you play poker?

Just a wee bit.

Ah well that’s where I’m headed the now if you’re interested. You’re welcome to tag along.

Eh, naw, I’ll no bother. Thanks but.

Suit yourself, suit yourself. Erskine smiled. I’ll see you then, cheerio.

Tammas nodded and continued to the door. The doorman was there before him and he followed him along the short corridor.

A girl came from the Ladies toilet and she looked at him as she passed.