James Kelman - A Chancer

Erskine shrugged.

The other man nodded and sat down again. He and his mate counted exactly £40 out and deposited it on the baize. Deefy quickly covered it with £40 from the bank. The dealer called: Okay lads, get the money down!

And wee bets were laid and covered, some of them coin stacks which Deefy and the other worker checked through methodically. As soon as there was a pause the dealer said: Finished. That’s it.

Seventy two quid, said Deefy.

Seventy two, called the dealer.

Erskine nodded: It’s a bet.

The dealer stuck the cigarette back in his mouth and he dealt quickly, sliding the cards out from the shoe, keeping his right forefinger on each. One of the punters at the front took the cards and kept them face down, neither looking at them nor letting anyone else look at them; he passed them up to Erskine who asked for another. The dealer flipped him a 9, then he glanced at Tammas. Tammas turned his two cards over, two 2’s. Beat it, he said.

Erskine shook his head. I cant; I cant beat it. He shrugged and tossed in his cards.

Fucking hell, muttered somebody.

And somebody else sighed. Apart from that it was silent for several seconds.

Tammas put his hand in his pocket to get his cigarettes, and noticed he had one still burning in the ashtray, but it had almost burned down onto the tip. He tapped the ash off then ground it out. A cigarette landed beside his hand. It had been thrown by the dealer. Ta, he said.

The dealer nodded. He turned to the other worker and whispered something to him, and the man got up off his seat and walked ben the snacks’ room. Then he turned back to Tammas again, and he gestured at the piles of money and pursed his lips. Take it son, he said. Unless. . he glanced up towards Erskine.

You joking! Erskine smiled. No me Jake. The boy’s a machine.

The dealer nodded; he glanced briefly round at the other punters and shook his head. He pointed at the money again. On you go son. . they’re finished.

Tammas nodded.

Both the dealer and Deefy helped him tidy all the money, separating it out into the different denominations. There were a few pounds in silver coins. Tammas took the notes and left the rest lying. Eh. . he shrugged at the dealer, indicating it. The workers, eh. . he shrugged again.

The dealer nodded. He sorted out £5 in 50 pence pieces and gave it to Deefy, leaving the rest in the centre of the baize. Okay lads! He called: Okay lads. . there’s about six quid here for the first Jack, the first Jack for six quid!

Most of the previous punters and most of the spectators all returned to the table.

Tammas left his seat quickly, stuffing the notes into his trouser pocket and keeping his hand inside.

In the other room Erskine was standing chatting to the doorman and the woman who served behind the counter. The very boy, he grinned. Hey son, d’you play poker?

Just a wee bit.

Ah well that’s where I’m headed the now if you’re interested. You’re welcome to tag along.

Eh, naw, I’ll no bother. Thanks but.

Suit yourself, suit yourself. Erskine smiled. I’ll see you then, cheerio.

Tammas nodded and continued to the door. The doorman was there before him and he followed him along the short corridor.

A girl came from the Ladies toilet and she looked at him as she passed.

Thanks for letting us in, he said to the doorman.

No bother son.

This is eh. . Tammas gave him £5 and walked off but when the door shut he began trotting. And when the reached the end of the lane he started to run quite fast, not stopping till he saw a taxi for hire, and he signalled the driver.

•••

He woke up suddenly. The curtains were not drawn and the room was bright. The alarm clock had stopped. He got out of bed, crossed to the window and peered out. Quite a few folk were on the street. He turned to the cupboard, tugged on the bottom drawer. The thick wad lay in the corner beneath his socks. He took it out and counted it, threw it on the bed; he dressed in moments, grabbed the money and raced downstairs and along to the betting shop. It was approaching 1.30. The first race of the day was about to begin. Tammas scanned the board, strode to the wall to study the formpages; but when the next show of betting came through he went to the side of the counter and beckoned across Phil, the elderly man who worked there as cashier on Saturdays.

I want the second best to eighty quid, he said quietly.

Phil nodded. He walked off behind the partition to where the manager was. When he returned he accepted the money without comment. Tammas strolled to a radiator to stand. A guy he knew approached and started to chat about the race. He had stuck 50 pence on the same horse. Tammas nodded when he told him this, then he shook his head and stared at the floor. Before the race was due off he left the place and trotted along the couple of blocks to another bookie. The race was over when he arrived. The favourite had won and his selection was not in the first three. The boardman ripped the page down and stuck up the next. Tammas called: Hey what happened to the second best there?

The boardman shook his head, spat onto the floor. Never in the hunt, he said.

Tammas lighted a cigarette. Another show of betting began and he went to one of the formpages but without looking at it he turned away and left, and he hailed the first available taxi.

John was still in bed; his mother led Tammas into the living room. About five minutes later John entered, wearing a dressing gown; he slumped onto an armchair, swung his legs over its side. Tammas threw him a cigarette, gave him the burning matchstick.

John coughed on the smoke. He groaned and inhaled again. Cheer up, said Tammas, taking the wad from his pocket. He began dividing it into equal piles on the rug in front of the fireplace. . One to you and one to me, two to you and two to me, five to you and five to me. .

John’s eyelids parted more widely and he gaped at the money, sitting upright on the chair now and with his arms tensed. For fuck sake, he was saying.

. . and one to you and one to me. And Tammas continued counting. While he was doing so he started detailing the events of the night. Finally he sat back, smiling. I told you man. I knew we’d knock it off. A wee bit of patience.

John was nodding.

I’ve never felt anything like it man, No kidding ye it was fucking — Christ! You should’ve been there to see it.

John nodded. Then he frowned at Tammas for a moment. He said, Eh. . see that you were saying there man. . was that no — what you were saying, were you no saying it was more than two hundred quid?

What?

Naw I mean at the chemmy, when you won that last yin, was it no for two hundred quid or something?

Two hundred and twenty. Tammas nodded, he glanced at the two piles on the floor. By the time I gave out tips and that, and eh. . aye, I stuck a few on a fucking mule — finished third.

How much?

Eighty. Eighty quid.

Eighty quid! Eighty quid! John had sat forwards on his chair and now he sat back the way, leaning against the side. Fuck sake Tammas! Eighty quid!

Okay.

Naw I mean Christ that’s fucking — I mean it wasnt your fucking money. John sat forwards again and he pointed at the money on the floor: Fifty two and a half quid each you’re saying?

Aye, fifty two and a half each, aye.

Fuck sake.

What?

What! Christ sake Tammas it wasnt your fucking money to stick on a horse, it was mine, it was the two of us, it wasnt just fucking yours — I mean that should be a fucking hundred I’m getting. I know it was you that won it and all that, but eighty quid on a horse! A tenner aye but eighty! I mean that’s fucking. .

Tammas looked at him. Then he shook his head and he bent to lift one of the wads which he folded and thrust in his trouser pocket. He walked to the door. I’ll see you, he said.