In the bedroom he checked the pawn tickets in the corner of the bottom drawer in the cupboard but he left them there. On his way out he emptied the last 10 pence coin from the meterbowl. It was just after 8.30 am and the cafe would not open for a while yet. He went to a general stores a couple of streets away, bought a single and a box of matches; and he was striking the match and lighting up before being returned his change from the man behind the counter. He stood in the doorway outside for some moments, watching a group of primary schoolchildren pass by; and then two women, one of whom he knew. They exchanged Good mornings. He walked along to join the queue at the sub post office and once the cheque was cashed he bought a copy of the Sporting Life and a packet of cigarettes from the newsagent in his own street, getting an extra £1’s worth of 10 pence coins in the process, before going home.
•••
This hammering, it seemed to have been going on for ages. Moving onto his side again he tugged the blankets over his head, then he moved onto his front, face down on the pillow, closing its material over his left ear and a loud roaring noise like listening to a shell at the seaside. He only stayed on his front for a few moments after the hammering had stopped.
He sat up with his back against the bedhead, reached to the cupboard for the book and the cigarette packet, blinking into the bedside light. A piece of silver paper was marking his place and he turned the pages to it, looked at it a moment; he took out a cigarette, leaving two inside. The hammering resumed. It seemed to be coming from through the wall, from the adjacent flat up the next close. He gazed at the wall. He looked back to the book, and then returned it onto the cupboard, returned the cigarette to the packet and laid it on top of the book, and reached to switch off the light. He was lying on his side with the blankets to his chin when he heard footsteps in the lobby: Robert — going to the bathroom. Soon the cistern was emptying, refilling, and then a creak outside the door and Robert chapped and called: Heh Tammas!
Aye?
Okay?
Aye!
Can I come in?
Just a minute! He slid out of bed and pulled on his jeans and socks and was tugging down his jersey while going to the door. I was just reading, he said.
Robert nodded.
Tammas jerked his head in the direction of the bedside lamp: I just put the light out a minute ago.
Aye. Robert sniffed: Just making a bit of supper and that you coming ben?
Eh. .
The football’s coming on the telly.
O aye, aye. Hey d’you hear the hammering?
Ah it’s only the house falling down!
Hh.
Dont worry but it’s no serious.
Tammas grinned.
Hey how did Hull do by the way I never heard the results?
Two each.
Aw good — away from home too?
Aye. Tammas nodded. Trouble is you dont even know if Rab’s playing cause there’s no reports.
Och he’ll be playing!
You never know right enough.
Come on. Robert paused a moment then turned to leave, adding: Beans and toast in five minutes.
Tammas called: Dont burn it!
You’re worse than your sister!
•••
Billy came up for him at 10 minutes to 7 on the Monday morning. Tammas was already up and in the kitchen, eating the bowl of porridge Margaret had made for him. She offered Billy one but he shook his head. I’m on a diet, he said.
Ha ha! Margaret raised her eyebrows. If I was as skinny as you!
Billy laughed, sitting down opposite Tammas, and he said: It’s nothing personal by the way, coming up as early as this man!
But you’re quite right, replied Margaret. If I hadnt been here he’d have slept in.
Tammas continued eating, adding more milk to the bowl.
And are they sticky about time? asked Margaret.
No half! 3 minutes and you’re quartered — an hour and you’re sent home.
Honestly?
Aye. I was late twice that first week — gave the auld man a right showing up — he’s no been quartered for twenty years!
Margaret smiled; she was pouring tea, getting out an extra cup for him. And later, when they were set to leave, she palmed Tammas a pound note. The front door was open and Billy had stepped out onto the landing. Tammas whispered, Aw thanks Margaret.
She shook her head slightly, frowning.
Naw, he said, thanks.
She closed over the door.
For the first six weeks he would be training on the job and if proving satisfactory he would be given a place on the line. Until then he was to be kept on constant dayshift. Billy had started the fortnight before but in a different section. You’re in the rolling mill, he said, it’s supposed to be a bit of a bastard.
Tammas followed him into the factory and on to where the gaffer of the rolling section had his office. Billy grinned and left him standing at the door. See you at the canteen!
Tammas watched him walk quickly off and round a corner. It was quite a few minutes till the gaffer came out and opened the door, beckoning him to come in. He explained briefly what the job was about then led him to the floor where the rolling machine was situated. Hey Peter! he shouted to a man. The man came across. This is the new fellow. . The gaffer nodded at Tammas and went away.
Tammas followed Peter to behind the roller. Peter indicated where he wanted him to stand and he said: Stay there and keep your eyes open. And I might as well tell you, they shoes you’re wearing, they’re fucking no good. Surprised the gaffer didnt tell you.
He never mentioned it.
While he was talking Peter had picked up an enormous pair of heavy-duty clamps, positioning himself at a point to the side of the roller. There was a younger guy now standing on the other side of it. Tammas could see his head on occasion, bobbing about. A banging sound from the roller. Peter was now crouching. A white hot copper bar of around 6’ in length and maybe 8” thick issued from it. Peter caught the end of it with the clamps, brought it forwards to the edge of the machine; he allowed it to drop a short way onto a wee mobile iron trolley. He steadied it, still gripping the clamps at its tip, and swung it sideways a little, pushed it into another part of the roller. Then he moved a couple of yards to his left and waited. The banging sound. He crouched, he was farther back from the machine than previously. The copper bar issued. It was now about 12’ in length and maybe 4” thick, and was an orange colour. Peter repeated the process with the wee trolley. And once he had pushed the bar back into the roller he turned to Tammas, wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his right wrist, but said nothing. He lifted a smaller pair of clamps and stood as before, though farther back again. The bar was much longer now, a grey red in colour, and he used a much smaller trolley to manoeuvre it back in. For the next stage he went right up close to the machine and stood facing away from it, but looking down to between his knees, to where he was holding the clamps apart, just out from a wee hole the diameter of a golf ball. He glanced at Tammas just as another banging sound came and suddenly he had clamped onto the end of the issuing copper wire and was running with it, heading diagonally, making towards a thing like a kerb across the width of the floor, and behind him the wire still issuing, and he was shifting a bit as he ran, and steadying the clamps, to go thrusting the end of the copper wire straight into a narrow gap tunnelled through the kerb. And as he thrust it in Peter was jumping over the kerb. The gap was angled so that the wire darted out directly in line to a guy who was working a different sort of machine away up in the corner, a big circular device with a sort of cranking handle attached.