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Not Not While the Giro Page 3


  He could only shrug. She was eighty eight years of age at least.

  ‘And Mister Clark say he hear noises other times. And I don’t believe!’

  ‘Ah he’s a liar! Where does he live? Does he live up above?’ He could not restrain a grin appearing on his face.

  ‘Aah please please, do not be cheeky with me.’

  ‘I’m not being cheeky. But it’s not very nice throwing somebody out into the street like this is it!’

  The landlady poked his back as she followed him downstairs. ‘Don’t talk,’ she said, ‘not very nice with woman in my house. Never before in many many years! Think of your mother! No, I think you never do that!’

  ‘I’m a young man Missus Pernacci you must expect it.’ He opened the door but paused. ‘Surely you can at least think it over?’

  ‘No. Come on. Out you go. Can’t behave like this in people’s houses!’

  He shook his head.

  ‘You must mend yourself,’ she continued. ‘Now please go. Mister Pernacci be very angry with you!’

  ‘No he’ll not!’

  ‘Yes yes, he will.’ Her old eyes widened at him. ‘Now cheerio please.’

  ‘Cheerio!’ he called but the door slammed shut.

  The rain was falling steadily when he came lugging the suitcase round the corner at eight p.m. She was surprised to see it when she came out the gates.

  Nice to be nice

  Strange thing wis it stertit oan a Wedinsday, A mean nothin ever sterts oan a Wedinsday kis it’s the day afore pey day an A’m ey skint. Mibby git a buckshee pint roon the Anchor bit that’s aboot it. Anywey it wis eftir 9 an A wis thinkin aboot gin hame kis a hidny a light whin Boab McCann threw us a dollar an A boat masel an auld Erchie a pint. The auld yin hid 2 boab ay his ain so A took it an won a couple a gemms a dominoes. Didny win much bit enough tae git us a hauf boattle a Lanny. Tae tell ye the truth A’m no fussy fir the wine bit auld Erchie’ll guzzle till it comes oot his ears, A’m tellin ye. A’ll drink it mine ye bit if A’ve goat a few boab A’d rethir git a hauf boattle a whisky thin 2 ir 3 boattles a magic. No auld Erchie. Anywey – nice tae be nice – every man tae his ain, comes 10 and we wint roon the coarner tae git inty the wine. Auld Erchie waantit me tae go up tae his place bit Jesus Christ it’s like annickers midden up therr. So anywey A think A git aboot 2 moothfus oot it afore it wis done kis is A say, whin auld Erchie gits stertit oan that plonk ye canny haud him. The auld cunt’s a disgrace.

  A left him ootside his close an wint hame. It wis gittin cauld an A’m beginnin tae feel it merr these days. That young couple wir hinging aboot in the close in at it as usual. Every night in the week an A’m no kiddin ye! Thir parents waant tae gie thim a room tae thirsel, A mean everybody’s young wance – know whit A mean. They waant tae git merrit anywey. Jesus Christ they young yins nooadays iv goat thir heid screwed oan merr thin we ever hid, an the sooner they git merrit the better. Anyhow, as usual they didny even notice me goin up the sterr. Bit it’s Betty Sutherland’s lassie an young Peter Craig – A knew his faither an they tell me he’s almost as hard as his auld man wis. Still, the perr iv thim ir winchin near enough 6 month noo so mibby she’s knoaked some sense inty his heid. Good luck tae thim, A hope she his, a nice wee lassie – aye, an so wis her maw.

  A hid tae stoap 2 flerrs up tae git ma breath back. A’m no as bad as A wis bit A’m still no right; that bronchitis – Jesus Christ, A hid it bad. Hid tae stoap work cause iv it. Good joab A hid tae, the lorry drivin. Hid tae chuck it bit. Landid up in the Western Infirmary. Nae breath at aw. Couldny fuckin breathe. Murder it wis. Still, A made it tae the toap okay. A stey in a room an kitchen an inside toilet an it’s no bad kis A only pey 6 an a hauf a month fir rent an rates. A hear they’re tae come doon right enough bit A hope it’s no fir a while yit kis A’ll git buggir aw bein a single man. If she wis here A’d git a coarpiration hoose bit she’s gone fir good an anywey they coarpiration hooses urny worth a fuck. End up peying a haunful a week an dumped oot in the wilds! Naw, no me. No even a pub ir buggir aw! Naw, they kin stick them.

  Wance in the hoose A pit oan the kettle fir a pot iv tea an picked up a book. A’m no much ay a sleeper at times an A sometimes end up readin aw night. Hauf an oor later the door goes. Funny – A mean A dont git that minny visitors.

  Anywey it wis just young Tony who’d firgoat his key, he wis wi that wee mate ay his an a perr a burds. Christ, whit dae ye dae? Invite thim in? Well A did – nice tae be nice – an anywey thir aw right they two; sipposed tae be a perr a terraways bit A ey fun Tony aw right, an his mate’s his mate. The young yins ir aw right if ye lea thim alane. A’ve eywis maintained that. Gie thim a chance fir fuck sake. So A made thim at hame although it meant me hivin tae sit oan a widdin cherr kis A selt the couch a couple a months ago kis ay that auld cunt Erchie an his troubles. They four hid perred aff an were sittin oan the ermcherrs. They hid brung a cerry-oot wi thim so A goat the glesses an it turned oot no a bad wee night, jist chattin away aboot poalitics an the hoarses an aw that. A quite enjoyed it although mine you A wis listenin merr thin A wis talkin, bit that’s no unusual. An wan iv the burds didny say much either an A didny blame her kis she knew me. She didny let oan bit. See A used to work beside her man – aye she’s nae chicken, bit nice tae be nice, she isny a bad lookin lassie. An A didny let oan either.

  Anywey, must a been near 1 a cloak whin Tony gits me oan ma ain an asks me if they kin aw stey the night. Well some might ay thoat they wir takin liberties bit at the time it soundit reasonable. A said they kid sleep ben the room an A’d sleep here in the kitchen. Tae tell the truth A end up spennin the night here in the cherr hell iv a loat these days. Wan minute A’m sittin readin an the nix it’s 6 a cloak in the moarnin an ma neck’s as stiff as a poker ir somethin. A’ve bin thinkin ay movin the bed frae the room inty the kitchen recess anywey – might as well – A mean it looks hell iv a daft hivin wan double bed an nothin else. Aye, an A mean nothin else, sep the lino. Flogged every arra fuckin thin thit wis in the room an A sippose if A wis stuck A kid flog the bed. Comes tae that A kid even sell the fuckin room ir at least rent it oot. They Pakies wid jump at it – A hear they’re sleepin twinty handit tae a room an mine’s is a big room. Still, good luck tae thim, they work hard fir their money, an if they dont good luck tae thim if they kin git away wi it.

  A goat a couple a blankets an that bit tae tell the truth A wisny even tired. Sometimes whin A git a taste ay that bevy that’s me – awake tae aw oors. An A’ve goat tae read then kis thir’s nae point sterrin at the waw – nothin wrang wi the waw right enough, me an Tony done it up last spring, aye, an done no a bad joab tae. Jist the kitchen bit kis A didny see the point ay doin up the room wi it only hivin wan double bed fir furniture. He pit up a photy iv Jimi Hendrix oan the waw, a poster. A right big yin.

  Whit’s the story wi the darkie oan the waw? says auld Erchie the first time he comes up eftir it wis aw done. Wis the greatest guitarist in the World ya auld cunt ye! says Tony an he grabs the auld yin’s bunnet an flings it oot the windy. First time A’ve seen yir heid, he says. Nae wunnir ye keep it covered.

  The Erchie filla wisny too pleased. Mine you A hidny seen him much wioot that bunnet masell. He’s goat 2 ir 3 strans a herr stretchin frae the back iv his heid tae the front. An the bunnet wis still lyin therr oan the pavement whin he wint doon fir it. Even the dugs widny go near it. It’s a right dirty lookin oabjict bit then so’s the auld yin’s heid.

  Anywey, A drapped aff to sleep eventually – wioot chinegin, well it wid be broo day the morra an A wis waantin tae git up early wi them bein therr an aw that.

  Mibby it wis the bevy A dont know bit the nix thin Tony’s pullin ma erm, staunin oor me wi a letter frae the tax an A kid see it wisny a form tae fill up. A’d nae idear whit it wis so A opind it right away and oot faws a cheque fir 42 quid. Jesus Christ A near collapsed. A mean A’ve been oan the broo fir well oor a year, an naebody gits money eftir a year. Therr ye ur bit – 42 quid tae prove me wrang. No bad eh!

  Wiv knoak
ed it aff Stan, shouts Tony, grabbin it oot ma haun.

  Well A mean A’ve seen a good few quid in ma days whit wi the hoarses an aw that bit it the time it wis like winnin the pools so it wis. A’m no kiddin ye. Some claes an mibby a deposit tae try fir that new HGV yiv goat tae git afore ye kin drive the lorries nooadays.

  Tony gits his mate an the burds up an tells thim it’s time tae be gaun an me an him wint doon the road fir a breakfist. We winty a cafe an hid the works an Tony boat a Sporting Chronicle an we dug oot a couple. Well he did kis A’ve merr ir less chucked it these days. Aye, long ago. Disny bother me much noo bit it wan time A couldny walk by a bettin shoap. Anywey, nae merr ay that. An Tony gammils enough fir the baith ay us. Course he wid bet oan 2 flies climbin a waw whirras A wis eywis a hoarsy man. Wance ir twice A mibby took an intrist in a dug bit really it wis eywis the hoarses wi me. A sippose the gammlin wis the real reason how the wife fukt aff an left me. Definitely canny blame her bit. I mean she near enough stuck it 30 year by Christ. Nae merr ay that.

  A hid it aw figird oot how tae spen the cash. Tony wint fir his broo money an I decidet jist tae go hame fir merr iv a think.

  Whin A goat therr Big Moira wis in daein the cleanin up fir me bit she wisny long in puttin oan a cup a tea. Jist aboot every time ye see her she’s either drinkin tea ir jist aboot tae pit it oan. So wir sittin an she’s bletherin away good style aboot her weans an the rest ay it whin aw iv a sudden she tells me she’s gittin threw oot her hoose – ay an the 4 weans wi her. Said she goat a letter tellin her. Canny dae it A says.

  Aye kin they no, says Moira. The coarpiration kin dae whit they like Stan.

  Well A didny need Moira tae tell me that bit A also knew thit they widny throw a single wummin an 4 weans oot inty the street. A didny tell her bit – in case she thoat A wis oan therr side ir somethin. Big Moira’s like that. A nice lassie, bit she’s ey gittin thins inty her heid aboot people, so A said nothin. She telt me she wint straight up tae see the manager bit he wisny therr so she seen this young filla an he telt her she’d hivty git oot an it wisny cause ay her debts (she owes a few quid arrears). Naw, it seems 2 ir 3 ay her neighbours wir up complainin aboot her weans makin a mess in the close an shoutin an bawlin ir somethin. An thir’s nothin ye kin dae aboot it, he says tae her.

  Well that wis a diffrint story an A wis beginnin tae believe her. She wis aw fir sortin it oot wi the neighbours bit A telt her no tae bother till she fun oot fir certain whit the score wis. Anywey, eftir gittin the weans aff her maw she wint away hame. So Moira hid tae git oot ay her hoose afore the end ay the month. Course whether they’d cerry oot the threat ir no wis a diffrint story – surely the publicity alane wid pit thim aff. A must admit the merr A wis thinkin aboot it the angrier A wis gettin. Naw – nice tae be nice – ye canny go aboot pittin the fear a death inty folk, speshly a wummin like Moira. She’s a big stroang lassie bit she’s nae man tae back her up. An whin it comes tae talkin they bastirts up it Clive House wid run rings roon ye. Naw, A know whit like it is. Treat ye like A dont know whit so they dae. A wis gittin too worked up so I jist opind a book an tried tae firget aboot it. Anywey, A fell asleep in the cherr – oot like a light an didny wake up till well eftir 5 a cloak. Ma neck wis hell iv a stiff bit A jist shoved oan the jaiket an wint doon the road.

  The Anchor wis busy an A saw auld Erchie staunin near the dominoe table wherr he usually hings aboot if he’s skint in case emdy waants a drink. Kis he sometimes gits a drink himsel fir gaun. A wint straight tae the bar an asked John fir 2 gless a whisky an a couple a hauf pints an whin A went tae pey the man A hid fuck aw bar some smash an a note sayin, Give you it back tomorrow, Tony.

  40 quid! A’ll gie ye it the morra! Jesus Christ Almighty. An he wis probly hauf wey oor tae Ashfield right noo. An therrs me staunin therr like a fuckin numbskull! 40 notes! Well well well, an it wisny the first time. A mean he disny let me doon, he’s eywis goat it merr ir less whin he says he will bit nice tae be nice, know whit A mean! See A gave him a sperr key whin we wir daein up the kitchen an A let him hing oan tae it eftirwirds kis sometimes he’s naewherr tae kip. Moira’s maw’s git the other yin in case ay emergencies an aw that. Bit Tony drapped me right in it. John’s staunin therr behind the bar sayin nothin while A’m readin the note a hauf dozen times. The bill comes tae aboot 70 pence – aboot 6 boab in chinge. A leans oor the counter an whispers sorry an tells him A’ve come oot wioot ma money.

  Right Stan it’s aw right, he says, A’ll see ye the morra – dont worry aboot it.

  Whit a showin up. A gave the auld yin his drink oor an wint oor tae sit oan ma tod. Tae be honest, A wisny in the mood fir either Erchie’s patter or the dominoes. 40 sovvies! Naw, the merr A thoat aboot it the merr A knew it wis oot ay order. Okay, he didny know A firgoat aboot ma broo money kis ay me hivin that kip – bit it’s nae excuse, nae excuse. Aw he hid tae dae wis wake me up an A’d iv ay gave him the rest if he wis needin it that bad. The trouble wis A knew the daft bastirt’d dae somethin stupit tae git it back if he wound up losin it aw at the dugs. Jesus Christ, aw the worries iv the day whit wi big Moira an the weans an noo him. An whit wid happen if they did git chucked oot! Naw, A couldny see it. Ye never know bit. I decidet tae take a walk up tae the coarpiration masell. A kin talk whin A waant tae, bit right enough whin they bastirts up therr git stertit they end up blindin ye wi science. Anywey, I git inty John fir a hanfill oan the strength ay ma broo money an wint hame early wi a haufboattle an a big screwtap wioot sayin a word tae auld Erchie.

  Tony still hidny showed up by the Monday, that wis 4 days so A knew A’d nae chance ay seein him till he hid the cash in his haun ready fir me. An it wis obvious he might hiv tae go tae the thievin gemms inty the bargin an thir wis nothin A could dae aboot it, A’d be too late. Big Moira’s maw came up the sterr tae see me the nix moarnin. Word hid come aboot her hivin tae be oot the hoose by the 30th ir else they’d take immediate action. The lassie’s maw wis in a hell iv a state kis she couldny take thim in wi her only hivin a single end. A offirt tae help oot bit it didny make matters much better. An so I went roon as minny factors as A could. Nae luck bit. Nothin, nothin at aw. Ach A didny expect much anyhow tae be honest aboot it. Hopeless. I jist telt her maw A’d take a walk up Clive House an see if they’d mibby offer some alternit accommodation – an no tae worry kis they’d never throw thim inty the street. Single wummin wi 4 weans! Naw, the coarpiration widny chance that yin. Imagine expectin her to pey that kinna rent tae! Beyond a joke so it is. An she says the rooms ir damp an aw that, and whin she cawed in the sanitry they telt her tae open the windaes an let the err in. The middle ay the fuckin winter! Let the err in! Ay, an as soon’s her back’s turnt aw the villains ir in screwin the meters an whit no. A wis ragin. An whin A left the hoose oan the Wedinsday moarnin A wis still hell iv a angry. Moira wis waantin tae come up wi me bit A telt her naw it might be better if A wint oan ma tod.

  So up A goes an A queued up tae see the manager bit he wisny available so A saw the same wan Moira saw, a young filla cawed Mr Frederick. A telt him whit wis whit bit he wisny bothrin much an afore A’d finished he jumps in sayin that in the furst place he’d explained everythin tae Mrs Donnelly (Moira) an the department hid sent her oot letters which she’d no taken the trouble tae answer – an in the second place it wis nane iv ma business. Then he shouts: Nix please.

  A loast ma rag at that an the nix thin A know A’m lyin here an that wis yesterday, Thursday – A’d been oot the gemm since A grabbed the wee cunt by the throat. Lucky A didny strangle him tae afore A collapsed.

  Dont even know if A’m gittin charged an tae be honest A couldny gie 2 monkeys whether A am ir no. Bit that’s nothin. Moira’s maw comes up tae visit me this moarnin an gies me the news. Young Tony gits back Wedinsday dinner time bit no findin me goes doon tae Moira’s maw an gits telt the story. He says nothin tae her bit jist goes right up tae the coarpiration wherr he hings aboot till he finds oot whit’s whit wi the clerks, then whin Mr Frederick goes hame a gang iv young thugs ir supposed ta iv set ab
oot him an done him up pretty bad bit the polis only manages tae catch wan ay thim an it turns oot tae be Tony who disny even run aboot wi embdy sep sometimes that wee mate iv his. So therr it is an A’ll no really know the score till the nix time A see him. An big Moira an the weans, as far as A hear they’ve still naewherr tae go either, A mean nice tae be nice, know whit A mean.

  The bevel

  When I woke up the sun was already quite strong and it was clammy in the caravan; also it seemed like the midges had started biting. I had to rise. Chas was snoring in his bunk but in the other there was neither sound nor movement amongst the big heap of blankets. I gave up worrying about that a few days earlier. I struck a match and lit a cigarette. Time to get up: I shouted.

  Chas moved; he blinked then muttered unintelligibly. I told him it was going to be another scorcher. He nodded. He peered at the big heap of blankets and raised a foot and let it crash down. An arm reached out from the blankets, it groped about the floor for the spectacles beneath the bunk. I picked them up. Then Sammy appeared with his other hand shielding his eyes. I passed him the spectacles and also a cigarette. When he inhaled he went into a coughing paroxysm. Jesus Christ, he managed to gasp.

  Never mind, just think of the bacon and eggs, and these boiled tomatoes.

  Chas had pulled his jeans out from underneath his bunk and was dressing. He glanced at Sammy: Some smells coming from your side last night.

  Ah give us peace.

  Chas is right, I said, fucking ridiculous. I’m complaining to Joe about it.

  Ah shut up. Anyhow, when you get to my age it’s all you’re bloody good for.

  Chas grinned. A different story last night – you and that auld wife of yours! I could hardly get to sleep for thinking about it. Aye and I’ll be telling her what you said next time I see her.