A Chancer (25 page)

Billy glanced at him. What you on about now?

Tammas shrugged. I’m telling you straight man.

Dont talk shite.

I’m no talking shite Billy.

Aye you are.

Naw I’m no man listen, see that fucking blue you missed? I’m no kidding ye, a five year old fucking wean could’ve potted it. Christ sake! I know everybody misses now and again
but that was fucking ridiculous! And the pink was hanging too! Right over the middle bag man if you get the blue the game’s finished, finished.

Billy was nodding. Aye, it was a bad yin; I should never’ve missed it.

And it would’ve got us the dough too! And I mean . . . Tammas grinned and shook his head: After that fucking brown! I mean that brown man! Christ! What a fucking shot! Length of the table
man and you stopped the white dead! That’s one of the best pots you’ve ever done!

Billy nodded.

Position was perfect! Tammas stopped for a moment and felt behind his ear, and muttered: Thought I had a fucking dowp.

You smoked it.

Did I? Bastard! Tammas frowned and raised his right hand palm upwards and he gazed at the sky. It’s raining!

Naw it’s no – too cold; if it was going to rain it’d fucking snow.

That’s the fucking rain alright! Tammas shook his head, zipped his jerkin up to the top. Come on we’ll run.

Billy shrugged.

We’ll get soaked man!

Ah I cant be fucking bothered. I’m just walking.

Dont be daft! Tammas began trotting, a little way ahead he stopped and called: Come on ya cunt!

Nah! Cant be bothered.

Fuck sake Billy! Tammas turned, shaking his head, and he began to run, his head bowed as the rain started falling more heavily. Thirty or so yards on he slowed to look round once more; Billy was
walking in a methodical manner, gazing at the pavement. Tammas continued running.

•••

He was dressed in his good suit and was wearing the shirt his sister had got him for Christmas. On his way out the bedroom he lifted two brown-paper packages from the cupboard.
Margaret was in the kitchen, seated at the table, listening to the radio. When she glanced at the packages he said, Just a couple of things.

Presents?

Eh . . .

A bit late surely?

He shrugged.

Anybody we know?

Eh . . . no really Margaret. He paused, touched the collar of his shirt and smiled briefly: Ta.

She nodded. Will you be back?

Will I be back?

Tonight I mean . . . Margaret sighed.

Aw, eh . . .

Never mind.

Simpson’s Bar
was quite busy. He carried his pint to a seat near a dominoes game in which McCann and Auld Roper were playing. Auld Roper pointed to the packages: What’s
that?

Packages.

Are they presents or what?

Aye.

Hh! Bit late for fucking Santa Claus son are you no?

Tammas shrugged; he peered to see the value of the dominoes that Roper was holding. Play the 6.4, he said.

Shut up.

McCann called: D’you back that Border Rover this afternoon?

Did it win?

Aye – fucking 10 to 1 the bastard!

10 to 1!

Aye, I thought you’d have backed it! Especially after that last race you hit it for.

Ah! Tammas shook his head. He took the cigarette McCann was holding out to him.

Where you off to?

Tammas shrugged. Just going to see somebody.

Wee Betty?

Tammas looked at him. He drank a mouthful of beer.

Auld Roper laughed: Wee Betty! Is that the name of his girlfriend? Wee Betty! Eh? Fuck sake! I didnt know there was any lassies called that nowadays!

McCann winked at Tammas: Dont worry about this auld cunt he’s went senile!

He got a bus into town and cut through St Enoch Square for another. Upstairs he sat on the front seat, the packages on his lap. When the bus pulled out from the terminus he
was the only passenger on the top deck and after a moment he went downstairs and said to the driver: You passing Baird Street?

The driver nodded.

Back upstairs he lighted a cigarette. He was staring out the front window until suddenly he recognised this part of the road and he jumped up, lifted the packages and went quickly down, but not
in time for the driver, and he had to get off at the next stop after.

There was a small general store just before the corner of Baird Street. He bought a packet of cakes and some children’s sweets. Going into Vi’s close and up the stairs he paused to
light a cigarette. He stood on the landing beneath the one where she lived and he gazed out the window into the backcourt for several moments.

He rang the doorbell. He flapped the letterbox. He rang the doorbell again. There was no reply. No sounds coming from inside. He bent to peer through the letterbox vent. It was pitchblack. Not a
sign of light beneath the kitchen door. He stood for a time then banged the door again and rang the bell, and he flapped the letterbox. And the door across the landing opened noisily. A young
woman, frowning at him. She switched on the light in her lobby, stared at him. Can I help you? she said.

What . . .

Can I help you? Are you wanting something?

Eh . . . He nodded at Vi’s door: I was wondering eh – what is she away out or what?

Who d’you mean? Vi?

Aye, d’you know where she is?

She continued staring at him but did not answer.

Eh, are you Cathy?

Do I know you?

You look after Vi’s wee girl.

She nodded and frowned again: Are you Thomas?

Aye. He smiled. Did she leave any kind of message?

I didnt even know she was expecting you?

Eh naw she wasnt but eh, I was just wondering and that if eh . . . He nodded.

She beckoned him across. Come in a minute, she said, there’s a hell of a draught coming up the stairs.

Nah it’s alright Cathy I’ll just eh . . . He raised the packages and the paperbag containing the sweets and the packet of cakes. And he handed them to her. Will you give them in to
Vi for me?

Yes. Cathy glanced at them.

Just a couple of presents.

She nodded, and added: Are you leaving a message?

Naw eh I’ll no bother, just – I was here and that. Okay?

Fine.

•••

The grey figures had stopped dancing and singing and the picture of a clock on a church tower flashed onto the screen. As the chimes began Robert, Margaret and Tammas were onto
their feet, each with a glass in hand. On the twelfth chime Robert said, That’s it then.

He and Margaret kissed on the lips. The grey figures were now singing
Auld Lang Syne
with their arms linked. Tammas and Margaret kissed each other on the cheek and then he and Robert
shook hands, and they clinked glasses and raised them, made the toast to the new year. Then they drank and Tammas said: Refills! And he took their glasses to the table and poured another one each
from a bottle of vodka.

And I’m sticking off that bloody goggle box! cried Robert.

Margaret laughed: He’s away with it already and we’re no even out the house yet!

What d’you mean away with it? Just because I’m turning off the blooming telly! Robert grinned, taking the glass from Tammas.

When Margaret had hers she sniffed it and wrinkled her nose: Vodka!

Aye, said Tammas, you’ve got to take one.

Not me; I’m sticking to the sherry . . . She moved towards the table but Tammas stood blocking her way, grinning at her.

Naw, he said, you’ve got to otherwise it’s bad luck!

Robert laughed: Right enough Margaret!

O God. Well . . . she shook her head: At least put some lime or orange into it. And I’ll have a bit of shortbread to wash it down.

Soak it up you mean! Robert laughed.

Shortly after 12.30 am they were locking the outside door and stepping downstairs and into the street. Quite a few people were about and music came from different windows up the tenement
building. On the pavement opposite a middle aged couple who lived up the next close called: Happy New Year! and each of the three replied with the same call.

The streets were damp though it had not been raining for a while. There was a slight fog about. They walked into George Square for the all-night bus services. Tammas then split from them. See
yous the morrow, he said.

Take care, Margaret answered, frowning a little.

Tammas looked at her.

I keep telling her you’re a big boy now Tammas but she’ll no pay any attention! Robert winked.

I know what you mean!

Well, replied Margaret, all I’m saying is take care.

Take care yourself, said Tammas. And he grinned: Have a good night.

And you.

He brandished the vodka bottle, still grinning, before continuing on across the Square to where his own bus would be leaving.

•••

At the foot of the staircase in Vi’s close he uncapped the vodka bottle and swigged a mouthful. How’s it going Vi, he said, I just thought I’d first-foot you!
He grinned and capped the bottle, stuck it into his side jacket pocket, brought out his cigarettes and lighted one.

Outside her door he took the bottle out again but then put it back into the pocket; he rang the bell and stood with his eyes closed.

There was loud music coming from somewhere up the stairs. After a moment he rang the bell once more, then bent and lifted the flap. No lights, no sounds. He thudded his fist on the wood. Then he
glanced hurriedly about and he rubbed the back of his head. He lowered himself down, sat on his heels, his back to the wall beside the door. He inhaled deeply on the cigarette. He took the bottle
from his pocket and stood it on the floor. He stared at its label. A movement from Cathy’s house across the landing. And then a cistern emptying and someone’s footfalls on the floor
inside.

He finished the cigarette, stubbed it out on the wall; he rose and stepped to Cathy’s door and chapped it loudly. An elderly man answered. Come on in, he said and he returned inside,
leaving the door open. After a moment Tammas followed him, shutting the door quietly behind himself.

Some people, mainly middle aged, were in the front room chatting. They looked at him as he entered.

Happy New Year, he said.

Happy New Year, replied a couple of the people.

And a woman said: What time is it son?

I’m no sure.

It’s nearly bloody half one! muttered a guy who was wearing a tartan bunnet.

Dont be so bad tempered, she told him.

Bad tempered! Hh! The man turned away from her and he glanced over at Tammas.

I was looking for Cathy . . .

You’re no the only one!

Sssh, muttered the woman.

Well no wonder.

She’s up the stair with George, the woman said to Tammas. She’ll be down in a minute.

One of the other women pursed her lips and shook her head: They’ve been up for nearly an hour as it is.

Sit down, said a man.

Naw it’s okay thanks. I better just eh go up and have a word. Actually I’m looking for somebody that lives across the landing.

Aw. The man nodded, lifted a tumbler, sipped from it, frowning at the guy with the tartan bunnet. And he said: Give the boy a drink.

The boy can get a drink if he likes.

It’s okay, replied Tammas, going to the door. I better go up the stair.

Remind them there’s visitors down here and they’re having to be going soon, muttered a woman.

Tammas nodded. He went upstairs and chapped on the door of the flat where the music seemed to be coming from. A young girl of about 13 answered and rushed back inside without acknowledgment.
Then a woman appeared. I’m looking for Cathy, he said.

Cathy! the woman called down the lobby: Somebody for you!

Cathy appeared, holding a drink in one hand. She frowned at first and then smiled. Thomas! Happy New Year, she said.

Happy New Year. He leaned to her and they kissed on the lips briefly. I’m looking for Vi.

She’s over in Milly’s. Do you know where she lives?

Naw.

Cathy nodded, coming out from the house. Come on, she said, I’ve got the address downstairs.

He waited in the lobby while she went into her kitchen to find it. There seemed to be no one speaking in the front room. When Cathy gave him a slip of paper with the address written on it she
smiled and added, You’ve got time for a quick yin first!

Eh naw Cathy naw, I better no.

Och come on!

Naw, honest, I better just eh . . . He grinned, patting the neck of his vodka bottle. Got to keep sober! And you’ve got company in there as well Cathy.

Tch! She made a face and whispered: Is that what you call it!

He smiled.

She paused at the door, touching his wrist: Look, see if you dont get a bus or that, if you cant find a taxi – just come back; we’ll be going for a while up the stair. Especially
when that mob through there decides to leave!

Great.

Honest, I mean that, just come back. And no too late or I’ll be drunk!

Okay . . . he grinned: That’s a promise!

•••

Tammas had been walking for some time. His knowledge of Paisley was limited to the main roads and the driver of the bus had only been able to offer him the general direction of
Milly’s street. Since the Glasgow city boundary traffic seemed fewer and not many taxis passed. Two had appeared for hire but they were travelling on the opposite side of the road and did not
stop when he hailed them. There were three youths up ahead, younger than him. They watched his approach. One of them said, Hey jimmy you got a light?

Tammas was smoking. He took the cigarette from his mouth with his left hand and he gripped the neck of the vodka bottle with his right. What was that? he asked.

You got a light? A match?

A match . . . He sniffed. He passed the cigarette to him.

The youth used it to light his own cigarette then passed it back. Ta, he said.

Tammas nodded. He looked at them for a moment. He walked on at the same pace, without looking back. About five minutes after this a taxi slowed to round a corner at a junction ahead of him. He
hesitated, then began running, following it along the street. It halted halfway up and a couple got out. They paid the driver. Tammas shouted: Hey! Taxi!