James Kelman - Greyhound for Breakfast

‘Maw! Will you tell him!’

‘Hh!’ His mother raised her eyebrows and she glanced at the other two women: ‘Men are so bloody thick arent they!’

‘Maw. .’

Missis McDonald ignored him. She picked a cigarette out from the packet, got her lighter from the table. Matt turned from her. The two men were already seated and taking loose change from their pockets and setting it down at the edge of the table. Some of the coins made a noise and Missis McDonald cried, ‘Would you at least have the sense to put down some bloody newspaper!’

‘Sorry,’ answered her husband, and winked at the other man: ‘Newspaper Pat, have we got such a commodity?’

‘Da. .’

‘What is it son?’

‘Da, we’re no playing with you.’

‘Aye you are.’

‘Naw we’re no.’

‘Aw sit down and stop moaning. .’ Mister McDonald winked at Pat: ‘I wonder who he takes after eh!’ He glanced round at Arthur: ‘Heh son will you pass that paper there!’

The newspaper was on top of a glass display cabinet and Arthur got it quickly and handed it to the man.

‘Now sit down.’

Arthur glanced swiftly at Matt but he sat down. Jimmy and the other two boys did likewise. ‘That’s better,’ said Mister McDonald, spreading pages of newspaper about the table. The other man had taken his cigarettes out and placed one in front of Mister McDonald; he looked at the boys as if about to offer them one as well, but he changed his mind and put the packet away into his side jacket pocket. Matt was still standing midway between the dining table and the settee. His father looked at him and said, ‘Where’s the cards then?’

‘Jesus Christ!’ cried Matt.

‘Hear that language?’ said his maw to the other women; the three of them laughed.

Matt went striding out the room and crashed the door shut. Mister McDonald called to his wife, ‘That’s bloody ridiculous the way he’s acting! Eh?’ He glanced at Pat: ‘Imagine acting like that in front of visitors but? Eh? In our day? Can you imagine? You’d have got your bloody arse skelped.’ He called to his wife: ‘That boy, it’s a bloody good hiding he needs!’

‘Aye well why dont you do it then!’

‘Aye I’ve a good mind to.’

‘Good!’ She winked at the two women and lifted her glass of martini, reached for the bottle to top it up.

Mister McDonald was lighting the cigarette given to him by Pat. He blew a cloud of smoke at the ceiling, then said: ‘Okay. Cards.’

‘Eh. .’ Dougie sniffed. ‘They’re in Matt’s room Mister McDonald.’

‘Well just go and get them son — naw! Dont. .’ He pushed his chair backwards and leant to the sideboard, pulled out a drawer; he took a pack of cards from it. ‘We’ll play with the good yins.’

Pat grinned at him. ‘I hope they’re no marked!’

‘You better believe it!’ Mister McDonald winked once more, started shuffling the cards. ‘What is it we’re playing lads?’ He looked at Arthur.

Arthur blushed. ‘Eh. .’

‘Ponnies?’

‘Eh naw eh it was eh, it was eh — brag, it was brag.’

‘Brag. .’

‘Aye.’

‘Three or four-card?’ asked the other man.

‘Three. Deuces floating.’

Mister McDonald frowned at Arthur: ‘Deuces floating!’ He grinned at Pat. ‘Deuces floating! Long time eh!’

‘Aye you’re no kidding! Deuces floating!’ Pat glanced across at the three women but they were talking about something and did not notice, and he grinned at Mister McDonald: ‘Years since I’ve played that.’

Mister McDonald shoved the cards to Jimmy. ‘Want to get the ball rolling son.’

Jimmy lifted the pack.

‘Better shuffle first.’ Then he glanced suddenly at Arthur: ‘You ready Big Time?’

Arthur did not say anything. His face was red. He saw Eddie looking away and he placed his hands on the edge of his seat and gripped it.

‘It’s a game I’ve always liked but, brag. .’ Pat tapped ash into the ashtray; his jacket cuff caught on a page of newspaper and he straightened it carefully. ‘What about the post?’ he said to Jimmy.

‘Two pence.’

Mister McDonald smiled: ‘We’ll no get rooked at that anyway, eh Pat!’

Pat grinned.

Twenty minutes passed. The door clicked open and Matt appeared. His da called, ‘Fancy a game?’

‘Nope.’

‘It’s no a bad game Matt,’ said the other man.

Matt nodded. He was holding a packet of cigarettes and a box of matches in his left hand. He displayed it: ‘Hey Jimmy you left your smokes in the room.’

Jimmy gazed at him.

He opened the packet and extracted one, put it in his mouth and got out a match, lighted the cigarette, handed Jimmy the packet and matchbox.

His maw had been watching and she laughed. ‘See that!’ she said to the other women. ‘He’s a big boy because he smokes!’

Mister McDonald frowned at Matt. ‘Is this you smoking in the house?’

Matt ignored the question and said to Arthur: ‘How’s it going?’

‘Okay. .’

‘A wee bit slow mind you,’ said Mister McDonald. ‘Eh Pat?’

‘Well. . I suppose. . Maybe if we stopped the deuces floating?’

Mister McDonald nodded then winked. ‘I was thinking about a wee game of ponnies.’

‘Aw aye. I dont mind.’

‘How about it lads?’ Mister McDonald had glanced at Dougie and Eddie, and now at Jimmy and at Arthur. But nobody responded. They looked to Matt eventually and he walked across to his maw and whispered something to her.

She paused then called to her husband: ‘Right, that’s enough.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Time for the boys to go home for their tea.’

Mister McDonald sniffed; he looked at the boys. ‘Have yous to go home for your tea?’

No reply.

‘Eh lads? Is it teatime?’ He grinned.

Matt shouted, ‘Da, they’ve got to go home!’

‘Nobody’s asking you.’

Matt glared at his mother who shrugged, turned to the other women and shrugged again. The boy strode out the room. ‘Dont bang that door!’ cried Mister McDonald. But Matt did bang it, and his bedroom door could be heard banging as well. ‘Some temper that boy,’ muttered the man.

‘See you!’ called his wife, ‘you’re just bloody stupid, so you are!’

‘Aw thanks. .’ He winked at the other man. His face became serious and he said to Arthur: ‘You can deal son.’

‘Eh. .’ Arthur gazed at Jimmy, Dougie and Eddie.

It was Jimmy who spoke. He coughed beforehand, then said, ‘Eh Mister McDonald, see at ponnies, what you usually do is dish round the cards first.’

‘Mmhh.’

‘Because it’s the bank. You’ve got to see who gets it first.’

‘Aw.’

Jimmy hesitated and looked at Arthur who was staring at the table, as if he was reading something in the spread newspaper. Mister McDonald shifted on his chair and said to Pat, ‘See what I thought, I thought give the boy the bank cause he’s won most of the cash.’ He pointed at the columns of coins in front of Arthur. ‘Know what I mean? I thought it’d give the lads a chance to win something back.’

‘I take your point.’

‘And it saves time.’ He paused, glanced at Arthur: ‘No think so son? A wee bit of excitement as well eh!’ He rubbed his hands together and smiled. ‘Do you no want the bank?’

Arthur shrugged slightly, still staring at the table.

‘I mean you dont have to; nobody’s forcing you. See I thought cause you were winning the most money you wouldnt mind taking it on — eh Pat?’

‘Well. . I suppose. .’ Pat brought out his cigarettes and gave one to Mister McDonald.

‘Is it alright if we smoke as well?’ Jimmy sniffed.

‘Christ son there’s nobody stopping you!’ Mister McDonald frowned at him. ‘What do you mean? For God sake dont tell me yous’ve been sitting there gasping! I never thought.’ He looked at Pat. ‘Did you?’