A Chancer (14 page)

Rab frowned at him. I thought you were backing 5?

Naw.

They watched the race, dog 2 just failing to catch the favourite, the dog coming out of Trap 3. Tammas shook his head and tore his ticket into pieces.

I would probably have backed that! said Rab. But I let you chat me onto the 5 dog!

Tammas shrugged.

At the table Betty was laughing and holding her tote tickets in the air. Tammas! I got it! Number 3!

So she did! laughed Rena.

Hh . . . Tammas nodded. Did you back it as well?

No, tch.

What about you Tammas? What did you take?

Eh . . . a mule.

A mule!

What yous wanting to drink?

The bar was busy. Once he had shouted his order to one of the barmaids he concentrated on the form given in the
Adviser
. His nap for the night was going in this the 5th race. He had
selected it that morning, as soon as he had seen the
Daily Record
. When he carried the drinks to the table Betty asked for a loan of the
Adviser
and she read it for a few moments. Rab
grinned at her. You better give Tammas your tip!

Betty laughed. As a matter of fact, she said, I’m going to. Tammas – number 5. Real Sunshine.

Real Sunshine! Rab nodded. That’s what I fancy myself!

What d’you think Tammas? asked Rena.

Eh . . . It’s got a chance.

What one do you want to win?

The one I’m backing.

The one you’re backing?

Rab said, In other words he’s no telling you!

O thanks a lot Thomas.

Sorry, naw, it’s nothing personal.

I’m glad to hear it!

Tammas lifted his glass and sipped at the beer, then inhaled on the cigarette he was smoking and muttered: Actually I’m going to back the 1 dog.

Honest?

Aye.

Well well well, the 1 dog eh . . . Rab gazed at the race in his
Adviser
.

Can I do yours with mine? asked Betty.

Course.

Aw good. Betty took the purse out of her handbag and gave him 40 pence. Can you do it for me?

Course, aye, 5 and 1 you want – fine, I’ll reverse it too.

Betty looked at him.

The forecast, I’ll reverse it for you . . . Tammas had got up from the chair and he indicated Rab: He’ll tell you what I mean. I’ve got to go down and eh . . . He sniffed; he
walked away quickly but Rab came after him. And once they were outside he muttered, Hey Tammas you okay?

What, aye, what d’you mean?

I dont know, you seem to be fucking – a bad mood or something.

Och naw it’s no that. While they continued on downstairs he added, To be honest with you Rab I’m just eh . . . Betty and that . . . He shook his head. I dont know man I’m just
eh . . . My leg’s a bit sore as well.

Aw aye . . .

Tammas glanced at him. Then he gave him the 40 pence: You stick it on for me eh? I want to punt 1 dog with the bookie.

He left Rab outside a tote window, and moving in towards the centre of the crowd grouped beneath the row of bookmakers he gripped the notes he had left and stood waiting. The odds against his
nap winning the race were 5/2. Then he saw one of the bookies mark it out to 3/1. But he continued to stand there. Gradually the crowd thinned as the time of the race approached. He turned and left
the enclosure, the money still in his pocket.

The hooter sounded while he was climbing the stand steps to the lounge bar.

He stopped, halfway up; and he nodded as he watched the dog he had napped win comfortably. He lighted a cigarette. Out on the track beneath the big totalisator board the handlers were catching
the dogs to take them back to the kennels. The punters surrounding him were discussing the result and how the race had been run. He nodded slightly, and walked downstairs and along, and into the
bar beneath the stand. He ordered a bottle of beer, stood there drinking it steadily.

Rab was at the tote pay-out window when he returned upstairs to the lounge. Your woman’s caught the forecast! he called, grinning. Well done man! Good nap!

Tammas nodded. He carried on across to the table and sat down, giving his attention to the
Adviser
. Betty and Rena were smiling at him. Aye, he said, eventually. Well done Betty! Good
forecast.

Ninety three pence.

Great.

Did you win much?

Eh . . .

Rab was approaching.

. . . aye.

Aw good, replied Betty.

And it won so easy, said Rena.

Tammas smiled, getting up from the chair, folding the
Adviser
and sticking it into the side pocket of his jacket. Anyway, he said, time we were heading off.

We’ll stay if you like.

Naw, I’m no bothering, let’s go.

Rab looked at him.

While we’re ahead . . .

They went to a lounge bar in the centre of the city where a band performed but it was packed and the amplifiers seemed to be full on. At Tammas’s suggestion they left
for a quieter place.

When the last bell had gone the two couples shared a taxi as far as Betty’s close and she and Tammas got out, waved to the other two as the taxi moved off. There was a bit of fog around
and when they breathed out it came as steam. Betty linked arms with him. You should be wearing a coat, she said.

Ah I’m okay . . . he hunched his shoulders, keeping his hands in his trouser pockets. Through the close they walked, the glare of the light reflecting the heavy condensation on the
walls.

I enjoyed the night, Betty said.

Did you.

An experience. Quite exciting.

On the first landing she lagged behind, gazing out the window, over the backcourt which was in total darkness. It’s really quiet, she murmured.

He nodded, he put his arm round her shoulder and she turned immediately, and they kissed. When they broke it off Betty was shivering and he drew her in closer. You cold? he said.

She nodded.

Never mind, a nice hot fire up the stair!

She nodded again.

Okay?

Yes.

He stepped back from her, gazed at her eyes, taking out his cigarettes at the same time, and he lighted one.

I wish you could come in the house, she said.

Och.

No I mean Tammas if I could I would, it’s just my mum and dad – they dont, well, they’re not getting on. Sometimes I wish I was away from here altogether.

Torquay.

Just to get away from them, all of them.

Ah! I dont know Betty at least you’ve got company. Half the time I dont see anybody. The sister and brother-in-law – I dont always like to sit in with them you know? give them a bit
of privacy and that.

O aye.

He shrugged.

Betty sighed.

Come on. He put his arm round her shoulders. They started to walk towards the next flight of stairs.

•••

The crash of the plug and chain of the toilet cistern awakened him. It was just on 9.30 am. He got out of bed and pulled on his jeans and his socks, and a tee shirt. Robert was
supposed to be on a mid shift, beginning at 2 pm. But he would be starting early, doing some overtime. He was drinking tea at the kitchen table when Tammas entered. Cold yin this morning Robert,
eh? He rubbed his hands.

Aye. Tea in the pot by the way. Might still be hot enough.

Cheers . . . Tammas felt the sides then poured a cupful, gestured with the pot towards Robert’s cup.

Naw no me, I better be shoving off.

Tammas nodded. He sat down facing him. Overtime?

Aye.

Good. Handy . . . Tammas sipped at the tea but it was lukewarm only; he drank it all in a oner and made to rise, but he did not; instead he asked, Eh Robert, I was wondering, any chance of a
pound till the giro comes?

What?

A pound, any chance of loaning me a pound; just till I get the giro on Friday morning.

You must be joking.

Tammas looked at him.

The way you’ve been carrying on! Hh! Think I dont know the score or something!

What d’you mean?

You know fine well what I mean. You must think I’m a right bloody monkey.

Aw please yourself then.

Aye you’re bloody right I’ll please myself. Working all sorts of hours to try and save a few quid while you’re out wining and dining! Eh? You must think I’m a bloody
idiot!

For Christ sake! Tammas sat back on his chair, folded his arms.

You listen son . . . Robert stood up, one hand on the edge of the table and pointing at Tammas with the other. You want to go and ask that sister of yours how much I take to myself out the
bloody wages!

What you on about? I’m no interested in your bloody pocket money. All I did was ask you for a loan of a pound, that’s all. If you dont have it then fine, fine – but what you
handing me all this stuff for? Jesus Christ!

I’ll Jesus Christ you! Dont you use that kind of language in this house!

Tammas got up off the chair and for a second they stood glowering at each other, then he strode out and ben the room where he sat down on the bed. Not many more minutes and the outside door
banged shut. Tammas sat on, staring at the wall.

Around 1 pm he was sitting in the living room with the radio playing, drinking coffee. He had checked through every pocket in his bedroom. He considered trying the pawn with
his old suit – the new one had gone back in a couple of days ago. But there was no chance of them taking the old one. The radio was the only true possibility; aside from the watch Margaret
had given him as a birthday present some months ago. He rarely wore the thing anyway. Usually it lay on top of his bedroom cupboard. In fact he had no real need of a watch. But the problem was she
would notice its disappearance.

The meter bowl contained four 10 pence coins. Tammas had dropped in a couple of quid’s worth less than a week since.

He got up from the settee and peered inside again. Then he withdrew three of them and quickly grabbed his jerkin, put on his shoes, and went straight out. He walked into town to a snooker hall
he occasionally played in with Billy. It was situated between a pub and a betting shop, down below street level. Before entering he laid a 20 pence bet up in the bookie’s.

The hall was mobbed. Every table occupied and a queue of more than twenty guys for a game. An attendant watched him come in the swing doors; he walked to the cashier’s desk and had his
name added to the list.

It’ll be maybe an hour and a half till you get on, she said to him.

Ach well . . . he shrugged. He remained for more than an hour, spectating at different games. As he turned to leave he said to the guy next to him: You got a spare fag at all?

The guy brought out a packet and gave him one.

Ta.

The guy made no response.

Upstairs in the bookmaker’s he strolled to the board with the results. His bet had lost. He stared at the results for some time. Then he walked home and thoroughly searched the house,
finding a tiny amount of halfpences inside a vase on top of the living room mantelpiece.

He lay outstretched on the settee then got up and went to the bedroom and setting the alarm for 5 o’clock he got undressed and into bed. But he leaned over to the clock and pressed in the
alarm stopper a moment later.

•••

He was standing at the bar with the half pint of beer when in walked Phil, the elderly man who did occasional work in the betting shop down the road. They exchanged nods. He
glanced at the half pint and gestured at it to the barman. Pint of the same for the boy there, he said.

Right you are Phil.

Tammas smiled. Cheers. How’s it going?

Ah no bad no bad. Yourself?

Eh, struggling, struggling.

Aye . . . I thought I saw steam coming out of your beer!

Tammas waited for the barman to serve the drinks before saying, Results are murder!

Results are always murder. You should know that by now. I heard you were getting a turn these days but?

That was last week! They build it out of all proportion anyway.

Phil nodded. He was drinking whisky and a pony of beer; he called for another whisky, swallowed what had been left of his first one. He said. Aye son you’re best to say nothing. Never tell
a soul. Nothing. The best way.

Aye.

Phil drank the second whisky, followed it with the remainder of his beer, set the glasses firmly on the counter beside each other. I’m away, he said, before the crowd shows up.

Thanks for the pint.

Phil frowned and raised his right forefinger to across his lips: Ssshh. Then he reached out to shake hands with Tammas, and left two £1 notes inside his palm. Mind now, he said. Say
nothing.

Thanks Phil.

He had moved to a table near the darts’ area when John and Billy arrived. Donnie came at their back, pausing to collect the dominoes and the board from behind the bar.
Me and you, he said to Tammas. Eh? Will we take them on?

And sitting down he upturned the box onto the board, the dominoes coming tumbling out. He began shuffling them with both hands spread widely, his elbows sticking up in the air. And he said to
John: So it’s Manchester eh!

Aye what’s this we’ve been hearing? asked Billy.

Nothing, I’m just considering it.

Tammas glanced at him: I never heard.

That’s no surprising, replied Billy. We never fucking see you!

Nah, went on John, I’m just fucking fed up with it here. A guy in work was telling me the nightlife’s brilliant down there. And the money as well, it’s supposed to be brilliant
too. Big big wages he says.

Great – when you going!

Soon, dont fucking worry.

Look John if Manchester’s as good as all that then how come that cunt in your work isnt down there right fucking now I mean . . . ? Eh! that’s what I like about these bastards, tell
you all sorts of rubbish!

He spent years in Manchester.

Well what did he come fucking back for?

I dont know, a change I think – he’s married.

He’s married! What the fuck’s that got to do with it? Billy laughed.

Aw shut up.

Tammas said, Aye come on, give the boy a break. Let’s play dominoes.

Billy was last to lift his six pieces: He turned to Tammas: That big 20/1 shot winner man did you see it? This afternoon? This wee fellow, comes stoating into the shop the back of 2
o’clock . . .