The Bullet Trick

He followed my gaze.

'Jesus Christ.' Archie turned to me. 'You bugger.' Two more Victorian mannequins, a man and a woman, stood silhouetted in the gloom of the balcony. 'Give me the bloody heebie-jeebies they things.' He looked at Eilidh. 'I bet there’s a few ghost stories about this place.'

'One or two.' She nodded down to the old pianola. 'Apparently George down there has been known to start playing all by himself, and a young soldier in a uniform from the Boer War has been spotted up on that balcony.'

Archie nodded his head sagely.

'Oh, come on,' I said. 'It’s no wonder folk think they’ve seen a ghost with those waxworks up there. They’re like something out of a Hammer Horror. The eye plays tricks on you, especially in an old place like this.'

'When you get to my age you begin to realise there’s more in this world than can be explained.' Archie looked at Eilidh and me as if imparting some ancient wisdom. 'People don’t just vanish when they die, they’re all around us and sometimes we catch sight of them.'

A cold finger pressed into my neck bone then ran the length of my spine.

Eilidh said, 'Do you really believe that?'

'Aye, I do dear. You should go to the spiritualist church up on Berkeley Street sometime. It’s amazing the messages that come through.'

'It’s a pile of mince.'

I was surprised at my own vehemence. Archie bridled.

'We’re all entitled to an opinion. I go there every Tuesday to see if the wife’s got anything to tell me. It’s a comfort.' He gave me a defiant stare, then turned to Eilidh. 'Do you mind if I go and have a look at your display, dear?'

'You’re welcome.'

'Thanks.' He stropped off the stage muttering something that sounded suspiciously like superior wee cunt as he passed me.

When Archie was out of earshot Eilidh said, 'Poor old soul, he’s lonely.' She gave me a compassionate look. 'How are you, William?'

I felt like saying lonely but settled for, 'Fine.'

Eilidh hesitated as if there was something else she’d like to add, then thought the better of it and said, 'I’ll leave you to get on with things, while I make a start on setting up the chairs.'

I followed Archie’s gaze as he watched Eilidh make her way to the back of the hall, then I went down to make amends.

'I shouldn’t have said that just now. You’re right, what do I know?'

'What does anyone know, son?' He gave me a sharp, shrewd look. 'Have you lost someone recently?'

My heart executed the familiar dip between fear, pain and shame, but my voice remained neutral.

'What makes you ask that?'

'Just a feeling.'

I kept my own counsel and handed Archie what I owed him, plus the promised extra.

He counted it and smiled, tucking the notes safe in his jeans.

'Look at all this stuff.' He pointed to a tray in the cabinet filled with small objects, cigarette packets, buttons, ladies’ brooches, a couple of rings, a silk commemorative poppy, old newspapers and programmes. 'See they old Woodbines?' He smiled nostalgically.

'That’s what I used to smoke when I was a boy.'

'It’s true they stunt your growth then?'

'Cheeky bugger. They found all of this under the floorboards in the gallery up there.

Can you imagine it? Some poor woman loses an engagement ring or a fella drops a full pack of five, got to last him the whole night most likely, and that’s that until a hundred years later.'

'I never realised you were interested in history, Archie.'

'Get to my age and you’ve got to be, son. What you call history’s sometimes just yesterday to me.'

'Oh get off it, you’re not that old.'

'Aye well, what I’m saying is, nothing vanishes for good. There’s still traces of it somewhere, so don’t close your mind. The dear departed often come back.'

'Like a packet of Woodbines?'

'Just don’t close your mind, that’s all I’m saying.' He grinned, showing me his missing teeth. 'She’s a bit of all right that one; you could’ve been in there.'

'You’re a dirty old man for a mystic.'

'That’s the only reason I’m no trying to get in there myself, son.'

'Anyway you’re wrong, she’s married.'

'Ah.'

Archie gave me a look that said it wouldn’t have stopped him in his prime.

'Her wee girl’s one of the kids I’m doing the benefit for.'

'Ah right, I see.'

'And her husband’s a friend of mine.'

'Aye, and you’re an ugly scunner she wouldn’t look twice at. Here,' Archie took a fiver out of the money I’d just given him. 'Put that in the pot for the weans.'

'You don’t have to.'

'I know I don’t bloody have to. They get a hard deal they Down’s kiddies, it’s amazing what they can do given the chance.'

'Aye, I guess so.'

'I mean look at you. Bet your ma was told you’d never make it out your pram and here you are now.'

'Chatting to a turnip heid.' I shook my head and took his money. 'Cheers, you’re a good man, Archie.'

'You’ll not be saying that if I’ve got a ticket. I’ll be back up these bloody stairs afore you can wave your wand and say izzy fucking wizzy.'

After Archie had left I went up to the back of the hall where Eilidh was setting out rows of folding chairs. I had things to do but I dragged over a fresh stack and started to give her a hand.

'I thought I might catch Johnny today.'

'He’ll be sorry to miss you. He’s up to his ears in work, it’s that time of year.'

'Exams?'

'Exams, essays, assessments.'

'It must be difficult to find time to spend together.'

'It’s what you expect with a new baby.'

'And benefits to organise.'

Eilidh smiled.

'It’s not the best timing but you know John, he deals with things through action. Has to feel he’s doing something.'

I picked a collapsed chair off my stack and hit its seat smartly with my hand, unfolding it and starting a new row in front of the one Eilidh had already begun.

'Looks to me like you’re the one doing all the work.'

Eilidh paused; she looked straight at me to give her words emphasis.

'I’m not put upon.'

I placed a new seat next to the last.

'I never said you were.'

'You had that look, poor Eilidh all on her own again.'

I set another seat on the ground and held up my hands.

'Eilidh, I hardly know you and before I met you both in the pub that night it was years since I’d last seen John. I’m in no position to make assumptions.'

We worked without talking for a while, the only sound the scraping of chairs against the rough wooden floor until Eilidh said, 'The last time I saw you I said that every time we meet someone behaves badly. I guess I just proved my own point, sorry.'

I set up another chair.

'You must lead a pretty sheltered existence if you call that bad behaviour.'

'Perhaps I do.'

Eilidh unfastened another chair and wiped a hand across her face.

I hesitated then asked, 'Are you OK?'

'Yes, just a bit tired.'

'And staying up all night with fuck-ups like me probably doesn’t help.'

'It’s my job. Anyway, it’s only part-time.'

'I was hoping you’d say I wasn’t a fuck-up.'

She laughed.

'Well, you’re looking a whole lot better than you were a week or so ago.'

'I’m trying.'

It was my turn to look away.

Eilidh put her hand on my arm.

'What I mean is I don’t think you’re a fuck-up. Far from it.'

I asked softly, 'What do you think I am?'

'I think you’re a bit of a chancer.'

Our eyes met. My lips tingled with the thought of what would happen if I kissed her. I thought of Johnny. Then there was a sound from the back of the building. I looked round and saw Eilidh’s mother come through the door with a small child in her arms.