James Kelman - An Old Pub Near the Angel

‘Your goods all in there!’ said the landlady, suddenly materializing on the landing behind him.

‘What?’

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

‘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 Mr Pernacci no! No young man! But no, he say you’re nice boy. Steady!’ Her angular nose wrinkled in disgust. ‘This the way you treat us eh?’ she yelled.

Stuart could only shrug — after all she was eighty-eight.

‘And Mr Clark say he hear noises through the night.’

‘Did he?’ He could not restrain the broad grin appearing.

‘Aah now you laugh eh. Come on. On you go out. Out!’

‘Okay,’ he lifted the suitcase, ‘but I should get a rent rebate.’

‘Aah please. Not be cheeky with me.’

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

He walked downstairs with the old lady following, clutching her skirts.

‘Don’t talk. Not very nice with woman in my house. Never before in many many years.’ She paused. ‘Think of your mother! No I think you never do that.’

‘I’m a young man Mrs Pernacci you must expect it.’ He opened the door. ‘You won’t reconsider?’

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

Stuart sadly shook his head.

‘You must mend yourself,’ continued the landlady. ‘Now please go, Mr Pernacci be very angry with you.’

‘No he won’t!’

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

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

The rain fell steadily as he lugged the suitcase around the corner to his local. Jilly was surprised to see him carrying it when they met that evening.

Dougie stood up and said that it was time to go. Willie nodded and finished his beer before leaving. The union meetings were held in a small office, part of the district town hall, and although timed to begin at 7.30 prompt, seldom started before eight o’clock. They arrived at 8.10 to find the room deserted. A passing janitor informed them that someone had poked his head round about ten minutes ago and suggested that they take a seat and have a smoke if they wanted. Dougie laughed.

‘Told you,’ he said.

‘Well it was a warm day man and you can’t really blame them. We did have a couple ourselves.’

Dougie stared at him for a moment.

‘You’re off your head anyway,’ he said. ‘I mean you don’t really think they’ll discuss the Bill do you?’

‘We’ll see.’

The sounds of approaching voices accompanied by loud laughter were preceded into the room by an old man who walked slowly down the passageway and sat on a chair in the corner, in the second front row. Then the door opened and in came the Chairman and the Shop Steward of the branch, followed by assorted members of the committee and around a dozen ordinary union members. The committee men strode to the far end of the room and sat down behind the long table where the Shop Steward proceeded to lay out some sheets of paper and his tobacco tin. The ordinary members, now seated on the chairs on the other side of the table, were speaking amongst themselves. Dougie was discussing the day’s racing with the fellow in front when the Chairman called the meeting to order and apologised for the absence of the Secretary. Someone at the back loudly whispered something about Ibrox Park and the Chairman quickly retorted that he wasn’t far wrong there and laughed with the rest.

‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘our good friend and scrutineer Brother Reilly has kindly offered to stand in. So, Gus!’

Gus MacDonald the Shop Steward passed some papers across to Brother Reilly, and remarked aside to the Chairman:

‘Couple of new faces tonight eh!’ He continued loudly, ‘Well Brothers if Brother Reilly reads us last month’s Minutes we’ll get it started eh?’

‘Aye well. .’ began the Acting Secretary, adjusting his spectacles before beginning.

‘And so if there’s no objections I’ll sign for a True Record,’ said the Chairman when the Acting Secretary had read the last Minute.

‘Don’t see any,’ said Reilly, peering around the room.

‘Any Matters Arising?’ asked the Chairman as he signed.

‘What about this canteen business eh?’ cried a fellow sitting near the front.

‘No!’ replied the Chairman.

‘Not a Matter Arising,’ said the Acting Secretary.

‘What’s going to get done?’ continued the fellow.

The Chairman glanced across at the Shop Steward before answering. ‘Later Tam.’ He leaned over and whispered something to the Acting Secretary.

But the fellow persisted. ‘Well I hope so because. .’

‘Tam!’ cried Brother Reilly, shaking his head in exasperation.

‘Okay,’ interrupted the Shop Steward, darting a look at the Chairman. ‘I got on to the manager about that Tam and he said there’s nothing he can do. Said it was Head Office’s decision and he’d take it to them, but as I told you last month they’re only allowed to put on two dinners and all Head Office’ll say is there’s no demand.’

‘No demand!’ echoed Tam, amazed. ‘No demand! Christ there’s plenty! Plenty uses the bloody place; and we never get a choice. Bloody terrible!’

‘Aye I know Tam.’ The Shop Steward gestured vaguely about the table.

‘You know? Christ every day of the week stew or mince. Bloody stew or mince all the time Gus! Bloody ridiculous! Surely they can give us a better choice than that?’

‘Well that’s what I told the manager and he. .’

‘Aye you’re right Tam, it’s a disgrace,’ called another man.

‘Aye and you’d be cheaper eating in a bloody restaurant,’ cried someone in the front row.

‘Aye you’re right there!’ agreed another.

‘Order!’ demanded the Chairman. ‘A minute! One at a time eh?’

‘Well the manager. .’ began the Shop Steward.

‘Fuck the manager — bloody mince — every day of the week since. .’

‘Bar Friday Tam, eh?’ cried a voice from the back.

‘Aye a bit of scabby fish. Bloody out of order.’ Tam sat back, arms folded and shoulders erect.

‘Well. .’ tried Brother MacDonald.

‘Christ!’ Tam looked somewhere over the heads of the committee.

‘Okay! Order!’ called the Chairman. ‘We’ve done all this last month, Brother Smith and Gus says the manager’s getting on to Head Office about it so we’ll just have to wait and see the score. Okay?’

Tam muttered something to his neighbour.

‘Okay?’ repeated the Chairman.

Tam shrugged.

‘Right,’ continued the Chairman. ‘Anything else?’

‘Aye Brother,’ grunted the old man who sat in the corner in the second front row. ‘What about the paper?’

‘Yes,’ replied the Chairman, amid laughter, ‘Correspondence Sammy, Correspondence.’

‘In a minute Sammy, okay?’ said the Shop Steward.

‘Aye well.’ The old timer rocked back and forth, nodding to himself.

‘Right then Brothers if that’s the lot. .’ The Chairman looked around but on seeing no more queries, continued. ‘Okay then. Brother MacDonald’ll read us the Correspondence.’

‘Well Brothers, not much tonight.’ He withdrew a few envelopes from his briefcase and began reading the contents aloud. No one interrupted this time. On opening the last letter he paused and glancing across at the old man, said with mock severity: ‘Concerning toilet paper.’

A few amused looks and one or two quips greeted the reading of this letter. It confirmed that in future an adequate supply of toilet paper (soft) would be provided, subject to the Shop Steward’s request on behalf of the branch members.