He completed the first close in five minutes then dragged the bag along the pavement to the next. At the faraway flat on the top landing, as he pushed through the rolled up Post, Mail and World, the dog jumped up snapping and yelping and he jammed three fingers in the letter-flap. He sucked them walking downstairs. At the third close he left the newspapers sticking halfway out. At the fourth he dragged the bag on to a point between it and the fifth and he delivered both sets of papers at once. He was down to about two to three minutes a close now.
About three quarters of the way through the delivery he noticed the dairy had opened at the wee block of shops. Some of his customers had paid him at the same time as he was giving in the papers so he had enough for an individual fruit pie and a pint of milk. In the newsagents he bought a packet of five Capstan and a book of matches. After the snack and a smoke he raced around the rest of Kilmuir and finished the first part. He had twelve Sunday Mail extra and was short of eight Sunday Post plus he had different bits of the Observer and the Times.
On the long road home he had to hide up a close at one point when he saw Mrs Johnstone the Sunday school teacher passing by on her way to church. As soon as he got into the house he rushed into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth to get rid of the smell of smoke then he sat down to toast and egg. His father was still in bed. At about this time John would usually have finished the run completely and be in the process of cashing in down at the paper-hut. His mother did not make any comments about it. Shortly after eleven he made the return journey to Kilmuir Drive and began collecting the money. There were also some outstanding sums to collect which John had left notes on. One family owed nine weeks’ money. Tommy had delivered papers to them in error, against his brother’s instructions and they never answered the door when he rang and rang the bell. Other people were not in either. Some of them he managed to get in when he went back but by the end of it all he still had a few to collect. He got a bus back to Dalsetter Terminus. The conductor told him it was quarter past three.
He walked slowly up to the junction at the white church. He had money in three of his four jeans’ pockets. One of the ones at the front had a hole in it. In the other front one he had a pile of pennies and ha’pennies and threepenny bits; all his tips. In the two back pockets he was carrying the sixpences, shillings, two-bob bits and half crowns. He had the 10/- notes folded inside the Capstan packet which he held in his left hand. There were three fags and a dowp left in it.
The three men were alone in the hut. They were sitting up on the counter smoking and drinking lemonade. The big man stood down. ‘You made it!’ he cried.
Tommy looked at him but did not reply.
‘Right,’ said the crew-cut man coming over with a wooden tray, ‘pour the cash on and we’ll get it counted.’
Both men stacked and quickly double-checked the money while the thin man marked up the pay-in chit for £7/5/4.
‘Much did you say?’ echoed the big man.
‘Seven pound five and four.’
‘Well he’s only got four and a half here!’
‘What?’
‘Four and a half.’
‘Christ sake!’
The crew-cut man shook his head. ‘No more money kid?’
‘No. Just my tips.’
‘Your tips!’
‘His tips,’ said the big man.
The thin man smiled. ‘Get them out,’ he said.
Tommy hesitated but then he lifted out all the change from his right front pocket, dumped it onto the counter. The crew-cut man counted it rapidly. ‘Twenty-two and seven,’ he said, ‘plus it’s a twenty-five bob run.’
The thin man nodded.
‘Seven and nine short,’ said the crew-cut man. He looked at Tommy. ‘You’re seven and nine short kid.’
Tommy frowned.
‘You still got money to collect?’
‘Aye.’
The crew-cut man nodded. ‘Good, you’ll get it through the week then eh?’
‘Aye.’ Tommy gazed across at the big man who had taken the wooden tray of money over to a desk. The thin man was also over there and writing into a large thick book.
‘Okay kid,’ said the crew-cut man, ‘that’s us locking up now. .’ He lifted a key from a hook on the wall and came to the counter, vaulted across it, landing with a thump nearby the door. He opened the door, ushering Tommy out. ‘MacKenzie’ll be back new week eh?’
‘Aye.’
‘Good, good.’
The thin man called, ‘Is he looking for a run?’
The crew-cut man nodded and said, ‘You looking for a run yourself?’
‘Aye!’
‘Okay then son, as soon as one falls vacant I’ll tell your brother, eh? How’s that?’
‘Great, that’s great mister.’
‘Right you are,’ answered the crew-cut man and he shut the door behind him. Tommy heard the key turning in the lock.
His mother opened the door when he arrived home. She cried, ‘It’s nearly four o’clock Tommy where’ve you been? What happened?’
‘Nothing mum, I was just late, honest.’
‘Just late!’
‘Aye, honest.’
‘Tch! Away and take off these old trousers then and I’ll make you a piece on cheese! And go and wash yourself in the bathroom you’re filthy! Look at your face! Where did you get dirt like that?’
When he came through to the living room after his piece was on a plate on the sideboard and there was a cup of milk. His father was sitting on his armchair reading the Mail and drinking tea, a cigarette smouldering on the ashtray. ‘How did you get on?’ he asked over his spectacles.
‘Okay dad.’
‘What a time he took!’ said his mother.
‘Any problems?’ asked his father.
‘Some but it was okay really. I’ve to collect people through the week.’
His father nodded.
‘Were they not in to pay the money?’ asked his mother.
‘No, and I went back.’
‘That’s terrible.’
‘The man said I might get a run soon. He’ll tell John.’
His father nodded, his gaze returning to the paper.
‘That’s good son,’ replied his mother.
Then his father murmured, ‘See and save something.’
Tommy nodded, biting into the piece on cheese.
Getting Outside
I’ll tell you something: when I stepped outside that door I was alone, and I mean alone. And it was exactly what I had wanted, almost as if I’d been demanding it. And that was funny because it’s not the kind of thing I would usually demand at all; usually I didnt demand anything remotely resembling being outside that door. But now. Christ. And another thing: I didnt even feel as if I was myself. What a bloody carry on it was. I stared down at my legs, at my trousers. I was wearing these corduroy things I mostly just wear to go about. These big bloody holes they have on the knee. So that as well. Christ, I began to think my voice would start erupting in one of these bloodcurdling screams of horror. But no. Did it hell, I was in good control of myself. I glanced down at my shoes and lifted my right foot, kidding on I was examining the shoelaces and that, to see if they were tied correctly. One of those stupid kind of things you do. It’s as if you’ve got to show everybody that nothing’s taking place out the ordinary. This is the kind of thing you’re used to happening. It’s a bit stupid. But the point to remember as well; I was being watched. It’s the thing you might forget. So I just I think sniffed and whistled a wee bit, to kid on I was assuming I was totally alone. And I could almost hear them drawing the curtains aside to stare out. Okay but I thought: here I am alone and it’s exactly what I wanted; it was what I’d been demanding if the truth’s to be told. I’ll tell you something as welclass="underline" I’m not usually a brave person but at that very moment I thought Christ here you are now and what’s happening but you’re keeping on going, you’re keeping on going, just as if you couldnt give a damn about who was watching. I’m not kidding you I felt as great as ever I’ve felt in my whole life, and that’s a fact. So much so I was beginning to think is this you that’s doing it. But it bloody was me, it was. And then I was walking and I mean walking, just walking, with nobody there to say yay or nay. What a feeling thon was. I stopped a minute to look about. An error. Of course, an error. I bloody knew it as soon as I’d done it. And out they came.