A Chancer Read Free Page B

Listen eh I want to go to the dressing room a minute. I’ve left something there
and that and eh . . . Is the door locked or what?
    The man nodded, his attention on the game.
    After a few moments Tammas asked: Will I be allowed in okay?
    What? What’s that? The man frowned.
    Have you got the key? to the dressing room?
    To the dressing room! Naw, naw son you’ve got to see the caretaker.
    Aw aye. Tammas sniffed. He continued standing watching the game. The winger of the opposing team had the ball and was cutting in towards the corner of the 18 yard line; a player came to meet him
and the ball eventually ran loose and was collected by the keeper who kicked it high, and the wind carried it and it bounced out for another throw-in from the touchline opposite. He turned away and
blew his nose through his fingers, wiping his nostrils on his wrist; he headed off to the dressing room.
    •••
    Simpson’s Bar
was crowded. Moving between the bodies he ordered a pint of heavy and carried it to a group seated at the far side. Donnie was standing next to the
table, nearby the darts’ board and when he saw his approach he roared: Look who’s here! The famous vanishing substitute!
    Tammas grinned; he sat down on the fringe of the company.
    So he isnt skint after all! laughed Billy.
    Detained in a betting shop! laughed somebody else.
    Ah shite, said Tammas.
    A mixture of jeers and laughter greeted this. It was followed almost immediately by a loud roar from the darts game; a match had just ended. One of the guys at the board there shouted the
initials of the next player. And while he was rising and crossing the floor the person in question pounded the air with his right fist.
    Tammas drank a mouthful of beer and asked, What’s happening?
    Rab replied, Happening? What d’you mean happening – nothing’s happening apart from a chinky, we’re all going for a chinky.
    I mean the arrangements man, Blackpool.
    Hey Donnie will you listen to the boy here! Stoating in at 9 o’clock and he’s wanting to know about arrangements! Arrangements by fuck!
    Donnie shouted: We’re going for a chinky!
    O Christ! Tammas shook his head and raised his beer glass.
    See what I mean? Rab laughed. You’re too late man – everybody’s steamboats.
    John leaned over the table: We’ve booked in bed and breakfast Tammas. Seven pound a night and we’re lucky to get it. Usually well booked up before the end of August according to the
woman, the landlady. That’s how it’s so dear.
    Aye, said Rab, nudging Tammas, there’s a guy in John’s work could’ve got us a place at half the price.
    All I’m saying’s what he told me.
    Aye well you fucking tell him to give us the address man and then we’ll see.
    What is it yous’re paying? somebody asked.
    Seven notes.
    And that’s just for bed and breakfast, added John. On top of that we’ll have our dinner and tea to pay.
    Billy sniffed. That’s right enough. And then we’ve got snacks and bevy on top of that again.
    Aye and our fucking travelling expenses, called Donnie.
    True. Plus if we back a few losers and all that I mean who the fuck’s going to pay that!
    John shook his head. You cant get fucking talking in this place.
    It’s only because you talk so much shite John . . . muttered Rab.
    Aye do I!
    Aye, laughed Billy.
    Tammas had opened a new packet of cigarettes and he offered them about the company. He said to Rab: Saw the result in the paper man – great stuff. Is that yous through to the next round
then?
    Quarter finals . . . Rab shrugged. And he added, What about the eh . . . you wanting to give us a few quid or what?
    A tenner, aye. Tammas withdrew the money and handed it to him. Is that okay?
    Well it’s up to you man but you’re still a wee bit behind. Rab folded the notes and put it into his hip pocket. He had a notebook in his inside jacket pocket and he flipped through
the pages, entered in the details, and added, Even Billy stuck in a score!
    The others laughed.
    Billy