Christ, Phil, thanks.
It’s no problem son. And by the bye, I dont have to tell you. . He tapped the side of his head: Say nothing.
Tammas nodded.
O and son. . Phil smiled: Mind and bet it in another bloody shop.
He returned to the domino game when the elderly man had gone. McCann was looking at him. One of the others said, A nice auld guy that.
Phil, aye. Tammas nodded.
He played one more game of knockout before leaving the pub. Upstairs in his bedroom he collected all the money from the top of the cupboard. He travelled by bus to the bookmaker’s Billy worked in. The closing stage of a horse race was in progress when he arrived, a neck and neck struggle developing between the favourite and a big outsider. The shop was very busy. As the big outsider began to forge ahead on the run to the line the muttering from the punters became an angry outburst. Up on the passageway beneath the boards Billy was standing waiting to mark up the returned odds; he was shaking his head. Down below a punter was calling to him: These results are fucking out of order!
Billy nodded. When he saw Tammas he grinned then shook his head again.
Tammas stood to the side. He kept the wad of notes in his pocket right through the remainder of the horse racing programme and on to the 6th dog race. He told Billy of the tip. But Billy was skint; he already owed half the week’s wages. Tammas loaned him £4 to make the bet. This reduced his own to £16, but dog 3 won the race at 7/2 and his return amounted to £72.00 less tax. Once he had been paid he remained near to the pay-out window, leaning on a ledge, gazing at the formpages. Billy signalled him over and handed him his betting receipt without a word. Tammas stared at it. He had not bet dog 3 as a single bet. Billy had wagered the £4 he had given him on a losing forecast.
After the last race he helped him sweep the floor and generally clean the premises up. Then they went by bus to Simpson’s. It was just on 5.30 pm and quite empty. They carried their pints to a table near the darts’ area.
Fancy a game? said Billy.
Cant be bothered. Tammas peeled the cellophane off the new packet of cigarettes, gave one to him. They sat without speaking for a time. Tammas had a morning newspaper and he brought it out, began reading. Eventually Billy asked, You going to Shawfield the morrow night?
Naw.
With that wad in your pocket! Billy grinned. You sure!
Tammas sniffed. What about you, are you going?
Me! Naw. . I’m skint man.
I know, I know you’re skint.
Billy looked at him for a moment. Hazards of the job. Ever hear of a rich boardman!
Tammas did not answer. He continued to read the newspaper. Soon he folded it up again. He laid it on the table and drank a large mouthful of beer, shifted position on the seat so that he was facing the television screen.
Billy said: What’s up?
What’s up? Fuck all’s up.
Aye there is.
Tammas shrugged.
Is it because I backed that forecast?
What?
Nothing. Billy inhaled deeply and he blew out smoke at the ceiling. Then he stared in the direction of the television.
The first time auld Phil’s ever gave out a tip and you’ve got to go and fucking blow it man. I mean the first time he’s ever. .!
Ach I get tips every day of the week in that fucking job.
No from auld Phil you dont.
Billy closed his mouth tightly and he sighed. He dragged on the cigarette, began drumming his fingers on the edge of the table, staring at the television.
I want to ask you a question Billy, straight: when did you last get a turn?
What? Billy frowned at him.
A turn, when did you last get a turn? I mean you must be the only cunt in Glasgow that never fucking gets one. I mean never! You never fucking win! When did you last win?
Billy lifted his pint glass and sipped from the beer.
What I mean man Christ! that was a good tip, a good fucking tip.
Aye cause it won.
Aye cause it fucking won, aye. Auld fucking Phil gave us it man. I mean I went all the way out to fucking give you it. I gave you four quid. You were skint. And then you turned round and bet a forecast, a stupid fucking forecast. I mean Billy I brought out the dough to bet the one dog, just that one.
I’ll give you it fucking back.
That’s no the point but.
Billy swivelled round on his seat and cried, Will you give us a break eh! He shook his head and swivelled back again.
Tammas continued to sit for a few moments. Eventually he muttered, I’m away up for my tea.
Billy did not respond.
•••
The Royal was crowded approaching 1.30 am and being a Saturday night the casino would have to shut its doors at 2 o’clock; but the poker would continue in a private room. The roulette and blackjack tables were all in use and there was a small crowd round the craps game. Tammas walked on through to the coffee lounge. He sat at an empty table with the following morning’s Sunday Mail. On an inside page at the back he found a tiny report on the match Rab had been playing that afternoon though apart from the team list his name was not mentioned.
I thought it was you!
Tammas glanced up, grinning when he saw Joe coming towards him. Hullo Joe, how’s it going?
Here! What you been doing to that wee lassie?
What. .
Joe had sat down facing him, and he chuckled. I dont think I’ve ever seen her in a bloody casino as much in my life! About three weeks on the trot she’s been here! Did you no see her?
Naw but I’ve no really been through yet.
Joe grinned.
Tammas peered in the direction of the gaming section.
She’s at the roulette with Milly. And I’ll tell you something son; never teach a woman how to gamble unless you’re a masochist cause they’ll ruin you! No kidding!
Tammas offered him a cigarette but he declined. I’m trying to stop it, he said, a couple of cigars a day I’m down to. It’s bad for you ye know!
Tammas grinned, but he shut the packet without taking one for himself. He tapped the junior match report and turned the page for Joe to see. That’s a mate of mine Joe — McCorquodale — he’s just signed senior with an English team.
Aw great — that’s smashing! Get him away from this place eh!
Hull City.
Joe nodded. Great.
Tammas turned the newspaper back round and after a moment he asked, What time’ll the poker be starting?
Directly. How? D’you fancy your chances?
Eh. .
Have you ever sat down before like?
Naw, no in here. I used to play at work sometimes — plus with the mates and that.
Aye but it’s not quite the same thing son. And it’s stud they play here as well remember.
I know.
Mm. Joe nodded, then indicated his wristwatch. Okay, well, if you are wanting a seat you better be smartly out the boxes cause there might be a rush! Joe had risen from his seat while talking and as he turned to leave he added: By the way, what age are you?
What age? Me?
Aye.
Tammas nodded. Twenty two.
Twenty two. Aye, that’s about what I thought you’d be. Joe smiled.
Once he had gone Tammas got up and purchased a cup of coffee. He opened the cigarette packet, thumbed through the newspaper. About five minutes later Vi appeared in the doorway. He watched her approach. She was showing him something in her right hand — a big pile of casino chips, which she placed untidily on the table in front of him. Count them for me, she said.
He did so immediately. Twenty one quid. Christ sake Vi you’ve done great. Much did you start with?
She shrugged. It’s all winnings. Plus I gave Milly five pounds.
Hh. Christ! He grinned, then pushed the coffee towards her: I just got this for myself but I’m no really thirsty.