James Kelman - A Chancer

Aw aye, and you know! Give us a break ya cunt you never go anywhere near the dogs!

Aye and I’m no fucking likely to either! Fucking mug’s game.

There was silence. Somebody passed out cigarettes and grinned suddenly. I was just thinking there: know the last time I was at fucking Shawfield? That night they were going to burn the fucking place down. Any of yous remember? Fair Friday night, about 1964.

Actually I think it was 66, one of them replied.

Naw, naw, that’s definite, 64, I mind it well. I know cause the wife had just booked us a holiday at the last minute, and I never even knew and I’d went off to fucking Shawfield with the holiday pay in my pocket and all that! He laughed: I could’ve fucking lost the lost! Lost the lot! As it turns out I didnt, I think I broke about even that night. But the point is, Christ! They were going to burn the fucking place down. . He turned to Tammas: No kidding ye son! They were going to burn the fucking place down!

Big Cowboy was there and all that night. No wonder they were going to burn the place down but! Fucking stroke they pulled. He shook his head at the others: It was an Open Event, dogs up from England and all that. Fair Friday I mean so every cunt’s there with a fortune in their pocket. Me with the lot in mine. And the fucking wife with the holiday booked at the last fucking minute and I dont know, I dont fucking know!

Tammas smiled. He got up, still smiling, shaking his head slightly while the conversation continued.

The game was quite noisy at the horseshoe table. He stood at the rear, beside the spectators, hearing someone whisper that it was about time the bank won, that it hadnt been winning at all so far.

When its losing run eventually did end the bank was being held by one of the three young guys from earlier in the snacks’ room. As soon as the third round had been won Tammas stretched over the heads of those sitting at the front and bankoed the £20. He lost and suived the £40. He lost that too. He had two single pound notes left in his trouser pocket. He noticed the dealer looking at him. Deefy, sitting next to the dealer, was also looking at him. He shook his head and the bank’s money was split for other punters. While the cards were being dealt from the shoe he turned and left the room.

He hailed the first available taxi. At his close he said to the driver: Listen will you wait a minute for me? Eh? I’ll be just a minute.

The driver hesitated.

Tammas smiled. Sorry. . and he gave him the two singles. Honest, I’ll just be a minute.

Okay. The driver folded away the £2.

He raced upstairs. Margaret and Robert were in the front room, viewing a late night film on television. Carrying onto his own room he collected the rest of the money from the bottom drawer of the bedside cupboard. Back in the lobby he paused by the living room door. Then he opened it and he said: Hullo. . Eh, I’ll no be too late! He grinned and shut the door immediately.

The gaming room was still crowded, every chair was occupied and a line of men behind. He had decided to bet only with the bank. If it won he would allow it to go the five coups, then he would withdraw all the winnings and just let it pass.

When the opportunity arose he threw in £5 and it lost on the first round. The next in line put in £2 for the bank and Tammas threw in £5 alongside it. It lost. He had suspected he would lose that one too but all he needed was one winning bank. One winning bank would return him the losses plus a fair profit. In fact, he could afford to lose seven straight £5 bets with the bank and still be £40 ahead on one winning 4 timer.

By the time the bank had travelled round the table and arrived back with him he had £10 left in his pocket; he leaned across and put in on the baize. He lost again. Soon afterwards he was walking home.

•••

Rab’s younger brother opened the door. What happened to you? he asked. You’re hell of a late.

I got detained. Tammas grinned as he stepped inside.

That lassie’s here — Betty — are yous two winching?

Naw, we’re just good friends.

Rubbish! Yous going to get engaged as well?

Tammas looked at him. How’s the party?

Och it’s no really a party man they’re all just sitting about — except my maw and Uncle Gus. They’re steamboats. So’s the auld man — he’s in the kitchen giving Rab a lecture!

Tammas grinned. He took the bottle of vodka from the carrier bag and held it in his left hand so that it would be partly concealed when entering the room.

Alec whispered, Tammas, going to bring us ben a couple of cans of lager? I’m in the bedroom with a couple of the mates and that.

You’re too young to drink.

Fuck off.

It’ll cost you — fifty p. each.

Away you go!

Tammas punched him lightly on the shoulder then clicked open the living room door, edged his way inside, shutting the door quietly behind himself. The folk were arranged in semi circle round the fireplace. Rab, Rena and Betty were not among them. A man of about 40 years of age was singing a country and western song. This was Rab’s Uncle Gus. He sat on a wooden dining chair, his eyelids were closed and he was holding his head raised, his face almost parallel to the ceiling; his adam’s apple was very prominent, jutting backwards and forwards as he sang.

To his left, Rab’s maw was kneeling on a cushion on the floor. Her eyelids were also closed and she held a wine-glass to her lips which were moving very slightly.

Tammas waited a moment before lifting an empty tumbler from the top of the glass display cabinet. He knelt slowly down, unscrewed the cap on the bottle and poured a small vodka, leaving the bottle on the floor in beneath the wall next to the cabinet. Then he stood up, got some lemonade to mix in.

The song ended and a little round of applause greeted it. Rab’s maw was saying: That was smashing Gus smashing, it was, smashing.

What about an encore? asked an elderly woman who was sitting on an armchair close to the corner of the fire.

Uncle Gus shook his head. We’ll spin the bottle missis, everybody’s to get a shot.

No me! laughed the elderly woman. She folded her arms and nodded to another elderly woman. Are you Jessie? Are you going to sing!

Tch!

Aye yous are! cried Uncle Gus. Then he noticed Tammas and he called: There’s a boy can sing!

Rab’s maw got onto her feet and was saying to someone, It’s Tammas — he’s been Rab’s pal since they were wee boys the gether. Come on over son, bring your drink with you.

And one for me while you’re at it! cried Uncle Gus. I’m bloody well dying of thirst!

He grinned when Uncle Gus rose to meet him and they shook hands.

Where you been hiding yourself Tammas?

Ach around, around. He turned to Rab’s maw and they kissed each other on the cheek. Hello Mrs McCorquodale.

She gripped him by the elbow and guided him to the end of the settee opposite where they were standing. A middle aged couple was sitting looking at him. This is Tammas, she said to them. And to Tammas she said: This is Rena’s mum and dad.

Aw! Tammas nodded and smiled. Hello. And he shook hands with them.

You’re awful late! called Uncle Gus from across at the glass cabinet.

I got held up — these buses! Tammas had half turned to reply; then he saw Rena who had just appeared in the doorway. She was smiling at him. He winked. Then Betty appeared behind her. He nodded to her.

I know your name said Rena’s dad. Tammas, eh? I heard Rab mention you.

Aye, continued Mrs McCorquodale. She glanced at the slight space between the couple and quickly they parted for her to sit down. Yes, she said, I’ve known the boy all his life. We were neighbours before we flitted to here. Werent we Tammas?