James Kelman - Not Not While the Giro

That a fact son? called a man.

Danny reddened.

You’re joking! cried Uncle Archie. Bloody ref chalked another three off him for offside! Eh Danny?

Danny was trying to free himself from the grip, to get out of the group.

Another man was chuckling: Ah well son you can forget all about the Rangers this afternoon.

Aye you’ll be seeing a team the day, grunted an old man who was wearing a bunnet with blue and white checks.

Being in Broomfield Park reminded him of the few occasions he had been inside Hampden watching the Scottish Schoolboys. Hollow kind of air. People standing miles away could be heard talking to each other, the same with the actual players, you could hear them grunting and calling out ids. There was a wee box of a Stand that looked like it was balancing on stilts.

The halftime score was one goal apiece. Uncle Archie brought him a bovril and a hot pie soaked in the watery brown sauce. A rare game son eh? he said.

Aye, and the best view I’ve ever had too.

Eat your pie.

The match had ended in a two all draw. As they left the terracing he tagged along behind the group Uncle Archie was walking in. He hung about gazing into shop windows when the game was being discussed, not too far from the station. His uncle was very much involved in the chat and after a time he came to where Danny stood. Listen, he said, pointing across and along the road. See that cafe son? Eh, that cafe down there? Here, half a quid for you — away and buy yourself a drink of ginger and a bar of chocolate or something.

Danny nodded.

And I’ll come and get you in a minute.

He took the money.

I’m just nipping in for a pint with the lads. .

Have I to spend it all?

The lot. Uncle Archie grinned.

I’ll get chips then, said Danny, but I’ll go straight into the cafe and get a cup of tea after, okay?

Fair enough Danny boy fair enough. And I’ll come and get you in fifteen minutes pronto. Mind and wait till I come now.

Danny nodded.

He was sitting with an empty cup for ages and the waitress was looking at him. She hovered about at his table till finally she snatched the cup out of his hands. So far he had spent twenty five pence and he was spending no more. The remaining money was for school through the week. Out from the cafe he crossed the road, along to the pub. Whenever the door opened he peered inside. Soon he could spot his uncle, sitting at a long table, surrounded by a lot of men from the match. But it was impossible to catch his attention, and each time he tried to keep the door open a man seated just inside was kicking it shut.

He wandered along to the station, and back again, continuing on in the opposite direction; he was careful to look round every so often. Then in the doorway of the close next to the pub he lowered himself to sit on his heels. But when the next man was entering the pub Danny was onto his feet and in behind him, keeping to the rear of the man’s flapping coat tails.

You ready yet Uncle Archie?

Christ Almighty look who’s here.

The woman’s closing the cafe.

Uncle Archie had turned to the man sitting beside him: It’s the brother’s boy.

Aw, the man nodded.

What’s up son?

It’s shut, the cafe.

Just a tick, replied Uncle Archie. He lifted the small tumbler to his lips, indicated the pint glass of beer in front of him on the table. Soon as I finish that we’ll be away son. Okay? I’ll be out in a minute.

The foot had stretched out and booted the door shut behind him. He lowered himself onto his heels again. He was gazing at an empty cigarette packet, it was being turned in abrupt movements by the draught coming in the close. He wished he could get a pair of wide trousers. The mother and father were against them. He was lucky to get wearing long trousers at all. The brother was having to wear short trousers and he was in his last year at school, just about ready to start serving his time at the trade. Boys nowadays were going to regret it for the rest of their days because they were being forced into long trousers before they needed to. Wide trousers. He wasnt bothered if he couldnt get the ones with the pockets down the sideseams, the ordinary ones would do.

The door of the pub swung open as a man came out and passed by the close. Danny was at the door. A hot draught of blue air and the smells of the drink, the whirr of the voices, reds and whites and blues and whites all laughing and swearing and chapping at dominoes.

He walked to the chip shop.

Ten number tens and a book of matches Mrs, for my da.

The woman gave him the cigarettes. When she gave his change he counted it slowly, he said: Much are your chips?

Same as the last time.

Will you give us a milky-way, he asked.

He ate half of the chocolate and covered the rest with the wrapping, stuck it into his pocket. He smoked a cigarette; he got to his feet when he had tossed it away down the close.

Edging the door ajar he could see Uncle Archie still at the table. The beer was the same size as the last time. The small tumbler was going back to his lips. Danny sidled his way into the pub, but once inside he went quickly to the long table. He was holding the torn-in-half tickets for the return journey home, clenched in his right hand. He barged a way in between two men and put one of the tickets down on the table quite near to the beer glass.

I’m away now Uncle Archie.

What’s up Danny boy?

Nothing. I’m just away home. . He turned to go then said loudly: But I’ll no tell my mother.

He pushed out through the men. He had to get out. Uncle Archie called after him but on he strode sidestepping his way beyond the crowded bar area.

Twenty minutes before the train would leave. In the waiting room he sat by the door and watched for any sign of his uncle. It was quite quiet in the station, considering there had been a game during the afternoon. He found an empty section in a compartment of the train, closed the door and all of the windows, and opened the cigarette packet. The automatic doors shut. He stared back the way until the train had entered a bend in the track then stretched out, reaching his feet over onto the seat opposite. He closed his eyes. But had to open them immediately. He sat up straight, he dropped the cigarette on the floor and then lifted it up and opened the window to throw it out; he shut the window and sat down, resting his head on the back of the seat, he gazed at the floor. The train crashed on beneath the first bridge.

McGraty had to wait outside the door for a while. Then the foreman called him in and explained the job he was putting him to work on. He took him to the machine and left him with the man there. Show him the ropes Tony, he added.

Tony glanced at McGraty. I thought they were sending a young fellow. I dont mean you’re old or nothing.

McGraty shrugged.

Just stand and watch for the time being. And I might as well tell you, these shoes you’re wearing, they’re fucking hopeless. And the safety helmet. Surprised he allowed you in here without one.

Tony had picked up a pair of enormous heavy-duty clamps while he was speaking. He positioned himself at a point to the side of the machine. Over the top McGraty could see the head of another man bobbing about now and again.

A banging noise. Tony had crouched, staring into the machine. Slowly a copper bar of some 6 feet in length and 8 inches square issued out from between rollers. It was white hot. Tony caught the end of it in the clamps once enough of the copper bar was showing and he allowed it to come forwards until it appeared set to clatter to the floor. But it stopped at the edge with his weight balancing it from the protruding end. He lowered this end onto a small metal trolley he manoeuvred into position with his right foot. He moved backwards so that the bar came off the rollers and dropped. Still with the clamps on the end he pushed it forwards into a different part of the machine and soon the bar disappeared through other rollers. Stepping back and to his left a pace Tony wiped his brow with his sleeve. The copper bar now issued from a different pair of rollers; it was much longer and narrower, and a great deal less hot than before. He pushed it into another place; he exchanged his clamps for a lighter pair, and wiped his brow. He glanced at McGraty. The process was repeated. He glanced at McGraty who nodded.