James Kelman - Not Not While the Giro

Ho. Quizzical is it!

Aye, yes.

And what is my gaze now then?

He was looking at me then I was looking out at him. He began looking at the policeman. Without words, both talking away. I said, It doesnt matter anyhow.

What doesnt matter?

Nothing, the anything.

The serjeant stood up: I’ll be back in a minute. He went out and came back in again carrying 3 cartons of tea and a folder under his arm. Tea Mr McLeish, he said, breaking and entering 1968, 69. But you said nothing about that though eh!

I grasped the carton of tea.

So, he continued while being seated. Out walking at the crack of dawn and wham, a block called McKillop lands at your feet.

That’ll do, I said.

What’ll do?

The serjeant was staring at my nose. I could have put an index finger inside. He was speaking to me. It’s okay son breaking and entering has nothing to do with it, I just thought I’d mention it. We’re not thinking you were doing anything apart from going to your work. A bit early right enough but that’s when milk men go about. Mrs McKillop told us her end and you’re fine.

Serjeant?

What?

Nothing.

After a moment he nodded: Away you go home. It’s our job to know you were done in 68 69. A boy then but and I can see you’ve changed. A long time ago and Geordie tells me you’ve a steady job now driving the milk lorries and you’ve a good hobby into the bargain so — you’re fine. And I dont think we’ll need to see you again. But if we do I’ll send somebody round. Number 3 it is eh? Aye, right you are. The serjeant stood up again and said to the policeman: Let him finish his tea.

Okay serj.

Fine. Cheerio then son, he said to me.

So grateful to awaken to morning, even seeing the state of the dump. Very early as usual after a drink the night before. Such an erection, the immediate need to urinate. Nothing at all in the house bar a scrimp of cheese whose wrapping paper alone turns me off. And black coffee it has to be. Huddled in front of the electric fire, the uncomfortable heat, my trouser cuffs hanging then burning my skin when I sit back. On the second smoke with the same coffee I feel better though it is possible she will die in childbirth and I to rear the kid by myself.

The newsagent has me stay for tea which we sip munching chocolate biscuits, she wanting to find out the latest information. But how will I manage to earn a living. How is it to be done. The child being taken away from me. Or me having to give it away.

Back upstairs with the morning paper and for some reason I brush my teeth and follow with a smooth shave — the Visiting. And I dress like that, then later have a bath in the public washhouse. And consider a haircut.

She is so pleased to see me: Looking so spruce. Proud of me in front of the other women. They see me as a man against their own. Maybe they dont. I nod to certain among them I recognise and also to the man three beds along who wants a boy definitely, if possible. Being told about the state of the dump cheers her up. She really wants to come home, I want that so much I dont speak. Neither of us thinks of returning a trio. On the bus home I think of that. And later I wander round to her mother’s with the news and borrow two quid and my dinner. And a couple of pints with my father-in-law. She’s a good lassie, he says to me, a bit like her maw in some ways but no too bad son. Always had her eye on you you know, even when yous were weans together. Aye, and me going to be a granpa as well.

Me a father.

Aye. Jesus Christ. Hey Bertie, stick us a couple of Castellas eh. Aye and listen son, dont let her maw upset you. She likes you well enough.

I know that.

Aye. Aye, well. All the best son, cheers. . And he gives me a fiver when we split, pushing it into the top pocket of my jacket, embarrassed. Claps me on the shoulder. He likes me okay and I like him and the mother-in-law is alright. He knows that because me and his daughter share the same bed sex has to happen. Maybe he regrets all the dirty jokes with his workmates or something.

Back at the hospital nothing is doing. The feeling that they were all enjoying the female banter before us crowd showed up. The looks from the staff. I am too sensitive. They arent really men haters. If you see what they have to see and so on. My aggression just. I shake her hand to leave but she gets me awake by demanding a kiss, it brings us together. Her smell. She hates to see me walking out of the place and when I get to the door I glimpse her, small there, watching me go. Fuck it. The protective male. Is what sickens the nurses maybe. Apart from me. It is just a fact. I cannot change, all that much.

In the local hangout a cloistered male group backs onto me with the stupid jokes and the new office girls and their quick glances at the door each time it bangs open. And the girl in the mirror ordering 2 shandies. Hell of a crush, I gasp to her. She half smiles as a reply. My stupid face in the mirror. I have to get out of this bar and Subway to the Cross. Quite a while since last I was down here but the crowd are glad to see me and I explain the situation and drinks are going to get shoved in front of me I’m well aware. Soon drunk and the bouts of gabbing followed by blank silences.

On the road to somebody’s home I let my legs wobble, confide to him supporting me that it’s like this man, though I know it comes to everybody all the time I cant fucking help. . The bastards in their spikinspan clothes. The shit in the back close. The yellow shades of newspaper hanging out the dustbin. The smelly black stuff puddling between the midden and the back close with bits of I dont know what floating about and the dog gangs following the bitch in their maze. The wean. And

But later I feel better — even to bawling, Dont worry about me, jim dandy, just what the doctor etceterad. . When I overheard someone saying they should not have brought me.

The wives and the girlfriends. I slump in a chair glad to be breathing, to begin a conversation now and then. I am more acceptable, now known as married and expecting our first at that very minute. Yes. Everything’s fine. So so. Cant complain and musnt bla. Course I want a dance. Feet still as fast as fuck — sorry. The girl dancing to me asks how I am doing and how it feels to be a daddy shortly and I wink. I wink. Jesus Christ. But she is there to make me enjoy being. Understands all. I see it. The Mother Earth. Someone’s wife. Frank’s wife. The old mate Frank. I spot him seated and chatting to a young thing — I followed my partner’s eyes. And I cant be bothered at all. Everybody on the floor jumping up and down but me now, and some other girl, half hoping by the looks of things. I’m useless but, useless. I just want to be in this comfy chair wallowing and possibly getting to the stupor.

Somebody at my elbow poking me, to join in, Annie the wife of old mate Frank once again, tugging me by the arm: Come on — we’re expecting a song from you in a minute.

Jesus. I hear big John singing the Green Grass of Home and everybody silent. The old hometown looks the same. Aye John. Give it laldy. The big John fellow giving it the big licks. Aye John, go on my son. And I am onto my feet and into the chorus with him. And when we finish a big round of applause when I jump to my feet once more but; Just a minute, I tell them, Back in a flash, desperately needing a jack dash.

I close the door. Out and along the road, up the Kelvin Way through into the park, crunching along the low gravel path by the river. At the first tree everything erupts. Retching for ages almost dozing on my feet there vomit I know caking the shoes and trouser cuffs, staggering along. On the hill 3 wineys, 2 males and a female share a bottle, talking; their voices carry in the night still. And asked for a smoke, by a single man on a bench and I give him one which I have to light, his hands dirt lined, warm to the touch. He inhaled deeply: Stick with me big yin, I’ll get us a few bob tomorrow.