James Kelman - Not Not While the Giro

‘Never seen one of these before,’ she said, indicating the quilt and unaware of his incredulous stare.

‘It’s a continental quilt!’ he answered at last. He was still dazed when he undressed, down to his socks and underpants. He went to switch off the light. She giggled.

‘What’s up?’

‘You! in your socks and skinny legs.’ She laughed again, a bit shrilly.

‘Lucky it’s not a pair of Wellingtons!’ he grinned, nervously, and marched forward.

But he had forgotten to alter the usual going-off time on the alarm clock and it burst out at ten a.m. as normal. Recognising the severity of the situation he jumped out of bed at once and dressed rapidly. The landlady rose at dawn and would have cleaned and exorcised the rest of the house by this time. Fortunately she wouldn’t come into the room unless the door was open which he had to do first thing upon leaving every day. He told her to hurry up. What a confrontation if the old one burst through the door! ‘Come on,’ he whispered.

She found her pants among the fankle of sheets and quilt at the foot of the bed and quickly slipped them on. Attempting to pull up her tights she toppled onto the bed and giggled.

‘Ssh for Christ sake — she’s got ears like a fucking elephant.’

‘No need to swear.’

‘Sorry, but you better hurry.’

When finally she was ready he went out and then she did, and he closed the door gently. He looked upstairs and downstairs but no sign of the old one. Maybe out shopping or something! He was now standing on the first landing before the hallway. She came behind, clutching her coat and handbag. ‘Got everything?’ he asked.

She nodded, unable to speak.

He walked quickly and opened the outside door and peered up the street and down the street. No one! Grabbing her by the hand he tugged her down the seven steps to the pavement and they strode along the street in the direction opposite the one usually taken by the landlady.

Shortly after midday he returned. They had eaten breakfast then she had gone to get ready for duty, against his wishes. She always took her job very seriously. They had arranged to meet outside the hospital gates at eight that evening and he was really looking forward to it.

He walked upstairs and into his room and almost tripped over his suitcase which was parked right behind the door.

‘Your goods all in there!’ said the landlady, suddenly materializing in the doorway.

‘What!’

‘I’m not silly!’ cried the old one. ‘You had woman in my house last night. I pack in all your goods!’

‘What? No, I didn’t! A woman!’

‘Come on, don’t tell me. I know. I’m not silly!’ She advanced towards him.

‘Not me!’ he protested, backing away.

‘I tell Mister Pernacci no! I say no young man! But no! He say you are nice boy. Steady!’ Her angular nose wrinkled in disgust. ‘This the way you treat us eh?’ She yelled.

He could only shrug. She was eighty eight years of age at least.

‘And Mister Clark say he hear noises other times. And I don’t believe!’

‘Ah he’s a liar! Where does he live? Does he live up above?’ He could not restrain a grin appearing on his face.

‘Aah please please, do not be cheeky with me.’

‘I’m not being cheeky. But it’s not very nice throwing somebody out into the street like this is it!’

The landlady poked his back as she followed him downstairs. ‘Don’t talk,’ she said, ‘not very nice with woman in my house. Never before in many many years! Think of your mother! No, I think you never do that!’

‘I’m a young man Missus Pernacci you must expect it.’ He opened the door but paused. ‘Surely you can at least think it over?’

‘No. Come on. Out you go. Can’t behave like this in people’s houses!’

He shook his head.

‘You must mend yourself,’ she continued. ‘Now please go. Mister Pernacci be very angry with you!’

‘No he’ll not!’

‘Yes yes, he will.’ Her old eyes widened at him. ‘Now cheerio please.’

‘Cheerio!’ he called but the door slammed shut.

The rain was falling steadily when he came lugging the suitcase round the corner at eight p.m. She was surprised to see it when she came out the gates.

Strange thing wis it stertit oan a Wedinsday, A mean nothin ever sterts oan a Wedinsday kis it’s the day afore pey day an A’m ey skint. Mibby git a buckshee pint roon the Anchor bit that’s aboot it. Anywey it wis eftir 9 an A wis thinkin aboot gin hame kis a hidny a light whin Boab McCann threw us a dollar an A boat masel an auld Erchie a pint. The auld yin hid 2 boab ay his ain so A took it an won a couple a gemms a dominoes. Didny win much bit enough tae git us a hauf boattle a Lanny. Tae tell ye the truth A’m no fussy fir the wine bit auld Erchie’ll guzzle till it comes oot his ears, A’m tellin ye. A’ll drink it mine ye bit if A’ve goat a few boab A’d rethir git a hauf boattle a whisky thin 2 ir 3 boattles a magic. No auld Erchie. Anywey — nice tae be nice — every man tae his ain, comes 10 and we wint roon the coarner tae git inty the wine. Auld Erchie waantit me tae go up tae his place bit Jesus Christ it’s like annickers midden up therr. So anywey A think A git aboot 2 moothfus oot it afore it wis done kis is A say, whin auld Erchie gits stertit oan that plonk ye canny haud him. The auld cunt’s a disgrace.

A left him ootside his close an wint hame. It wis gittin cauld an A’m beginnin tae feel it merr these days. That young couple wir hinging aboot in the close in at it as usual. Every night in the week an A’m no kiddin ye! Thir parents waant tae gie thim a room tae thirsel, A mean everybody’s young wance — know whit A mean. They waant tae git merrit anywey. Jesus Christ they young yins nooadays iv goat thir heid screwed oan merr thin we ever hid, an the sooner they git merrit the better. Anyhow, as usual they didny even notice me goin up the sterr. Bit it’s Betty Sutherland’s lassie an young Peter Craig — A knew his faither an they tell me he’s almost as hard as his auld man wis. Still, the perr iv thim ir winchin near enough 6 month noo so mibby she’s knoaked some sense inty his heid. Good luck tae thim, A hope she his, a nice wee lassie — aye, an so wis her maw.

A hid tae stoap 2 flerrs up tae git ma breath back. A’m no as bad as A wis bit A’m still no right; that bronchitis — Jesus Christ, A hid it bad. Hid tae stoap work cause iv it. Good joab A hid tae, the lorry drivin. Hid tae chuck it bit. Landid up in the Western Infirmary. Nae breath at aw. Couldny fuckin breathe. Murder it wis. Still, A made it tae the toap okay. A stey in a room an kitchen an inside toilet an it’s no bad kis A only pey 6 an a hauf a month fir rent an rates. A hear they’re tae come doon right enough bit A hope it’s no fir a while yit kis A’ll git buggir aw bein a single man. If she wis here A’d git a coarpiration hoose bit she’s gone fir good an anywey they coarpiration hooses urny worth a fuck. End up peying a haunful a week an dumped oot in the wilds! Naw, no me. No even a pub ir buggir aw! Naw, they kin stick them.

Wance in the hoose A pit oan the kettle fir a pot iv tea an picked up a book. A’m no much ay a sleeper at times an A sometimes end up readin aw night. Hauf an oor later the door goes. Funny — A mean A dont git that minny visitors.

Anywey it wis just young Tony who’d firgoat his key, he wis wi that wee mate ay his an a perr a burds. Christ, whit dae ye dae? Invite thim in? Well A did — nice tae be nice — an anywey thir aw right they two; sipposed tae be a perr a terraways bit A ey fun Tony aw right, an his mate’s his mate. The young yins ir aw right if ye lea thim alane. A’ve eywis maintained that. Gie thim a chance fir fuck sake. So A made thim at hame although it meant me hivin tae sit oan a widdin cherr kis A selt the couch a couple a months ago kis ay that auld cunt Erchie an his troubles. They four hid perred aff an were sittin oan the ermcherrs. They hid brung a cerry-oot wi thim so A goat the glesses an it turned oot no a bad wee night, jist chattin away aboot poalitics an the hoarses an aw that. A quite enjoyed it although mine you A wis listenin merr thin A wis talkin, bit that’s no unusual. An wan iv the burds didny say much either an A didny blame her kis she knew me. She didny let oan bit. See A used to work beside her man — aye she’s nae chicken, bit nice tae be nice, she isny a bad lookin lassie. An A didny let oan either.