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.
Tch Tammas, wait a minute.
Nah.
Och come on for fuck sake! John was off the armchair and coming towards him with his hands raised palms upwards.
Naw. Tammas continued on down the lobby. I’ll see you later, he said and he opened the outside door and stepped out and closed it behind himself immediately.
•••
Two guys were sitting on the second bottom step of the flight up to the labour exchange, one held a bottle of wine and was wiping his lips when Tammas got out of the taxi. He paid the driver. They watched him as he approached, and continued watching him as he stepped roundabout, and on up into the place. He joined the queue at his box number, taking the newspaper from his side pocket and unfolding it.
When it came his turn to sign the clerk told him nothing had come through yet and asked if he wanted a B1 form for the social security office.
No, ta.
Along the street he met Brian McCann, a regular from Simpson’s who was heading down to the job centre. It was crowded inside. McCann went directly to the vacancy board while Tammas walked over to the thick, upholstered seats near one of the interviewer’s desks and he sat there reading the newspaper. McCann called him eventually and they left. On the pavement McCann muttered, Fuck all — unless you want to count Welwyn Garden City.
Hh. Tammas gave him a cigarette and paused to strike a match.
They’re wanting electricians but. McCann smiled briefly; he bent to take a light; he exhaled. Aye, I’ll tell the wife to pack this afternoon.
Tammas grinned. He stopped walking at the bus stop but McCann hesitated. Dont worry about it, said Tammas, patting his pocket.
McCann shrugged. He nipped his cigarette and stuck it behind his ear.
Tammas was pointing to one of the day’s runners on the racing page of the newspaper. That Mint Julep, he said, I fancy it quite strongly.
Mm, aye.
If I mind right it won a handicap up at Haydock a month or so ago, eh?
I think so. McCann nodded, looking up the road. He brought the half cigarette from behind his ear and gestured with it to Tammas who handed him the box of matches. Ta. . eh. . He sniffed: Eh Tammas, any chance of a pound till the weekend?
Aye Christ fuck here. Tammas got one out and gave him it. Course, dont be daft.
Naw it’s just for a packet of fags and that.
Christ. Tammas shook his head. Not at all man, hh, a pound! He inhaled deeply, looked back at the racing page. Naw, he said, I think I’ll leave them alone the day — maybe go to the pictures or something, stay out the road.
McCann chuckled. He cleared his throat and spat into the gutter. No seen Billy this morning?
Naw, I waited for him as well; must’ve slept in — unless he signed early or something.
They dont usually allow you to — fucking strict about things like that; in case you’ve got a casual or something.
Aw aye.
Which in his case is fucking right anyway! McCann laughed: Lucky wee bastard so he is, I wouldnt mind the chance of marking a board myself!
Trouble is he’s no lifted a full fucking wage since he started!
Tch, is he still punting? I told him to screw the fucking nut about that. I mean a job like he’s got! You’d just wind up working for nothing if you werent careful.
That’s what he’s doing. He’s no backed a winner for weeks.
Mad! McCann shook his head, he looked back up the road. There was a bus in sight. Come on we’ll walk, he said.
What?
Mon we’ll walk. .
Walk?
Aye. McCann upturned the collar of his jacket and set off without further comment.
Okay.
They walked steadily. After ten minutes a drizzle started and they quickened the pace. When they approached the corner of the street where Simpson’s was Tammas said, Fancy a pint?
Eh — I’ve to meet the wife at the Post Office.
You sure?
Aye.
Honest?
Aye. Fuck sake. McCann was frowning at him.
Naw I mean if it was just cause of the dough and that. .
Naw.
Tammas nodded.
McCann continued on by himself.
•••
I bumped into that girl earlier on.
What was that?
Margaret shook her head. You never told me you’d stopped seeing her.
Are you talking about Betty?
Well I didnt know you were seeing anybody else!
Mm. . Tammas looked away. His cigarette was lying smouldering in the ashtray; he puffed twice on it, before stubbing it out and swallowing what was left of his coffee. He returned his attention to the television.
I dont think it’s right.
He made no response.
Tammas, I dont think it’s right. Surely you could at least see her and tell her if you dont want to go out with her. I mean she was upset the girl, it’s no fair.
Margaret, God sake.
Well you dont treat people like that.
He turned his face to her: Like what? I’ve no done anything.
Tch! You walked away and left her standing in the middle of the street.
Did she tell you that?
Yes, who else? you never say a word.
Tammas sniffed.
Did you?
What?
Just leave her? in the middle of Renfield Street?
Look Margaret I mean what is this at all. . He resumed watching the television.
After several seconds she said: Well will you at least see her?
He nodded slightly.
Really?
I was going to anyway.