A Chancer by James Kelman Read Free Book Online Page B

something else, about Rena?
    About Rena? He frowned.
    No Tammas . . . Betty shook her head, she grinned and tugged on his arm till he brought his hand out his pocket. And he looked at her. She sighed: No Tammas I was just saying, about Rena; she
told me she wished Rab didnt drink so much.
    Rena?
    Aye, she said she thinks he’s drinking too much.
    Hh!
    She did.
    He nodded.
    Is it every Saturday night he goes to the pub?
    He shrugged. No every one, I dont think . . . He paused and she withdrew her arm from his. He took his hands out his pockets. Betty . . . he said. He put his hands back into his pockets and
hunched his shoulders.
    They had stopped walking now and she was looking at him.
    Eh . . .
    What’s up? she asked. She frowned, glanced away, watching someone pass by, before turning to him again. What’s wrong? she said quietly.
    Nothing, nothing, it’s no that, there’s nothing wrong. He patted her on the elbow, led her in to stand closeby a shop window. Naw, he said, it’s just – I’m skint.
He sniffed and poked his right forefinger into the corner of his eye socket, blinked a couple of times, then brought out his cigarettes and lighted one. When he exhaled she asked: What d’you
mean?
    Naw. Just – I’m skint, I’ve no got any dough. Well – about . . . He took some change from his trouser pocket and displayed it on the palm of his hand. Sixty three
pence.
    Betty began to say something but stopped, frowning.
    Naw, he said, I’m really . . . I just eh . . . He shut his eyelids.
    I dont know what you mean Tammas, I dont know what it is; what is it? what d’you mean?
    He sighed. He was gazing into the shop window then he glanced very briefly at her, and then up in the direction of the cinema. The September Weekend and that I just eh . . . I was really behind
and . . . He shook his head, inhaling deeply on the cigarette. He turned to her, putting his arm round her shoulder but withdrew it at once and shook his head again: I’m really sorry Betty,
honest.
    Do you mean you’ve had to put your money bye for Blackpool?
    Aye well, aye – but no just that I mean . . . you know how I’m living with my sister and that?
    She nodded.
    It’s just eh, I always like to pay my way and that, spot on, with the money and that, just to keep it right.
    Aw.
    I dont like to eh . . . He sighed, then he inhaled on the cigarette and gazed up Renfield Street.
    Tammas. Betty smiled and linked arms with him. Dont be silly.
    Naw, he said. He continued to gaze away from her.
    Betty tugged at his arm. She smiled. Come on . . . God Tammas I’ve got money, if it’s just the pictures, my goodness. She chuckled.
    Naw but that’s no fair Betty, hh, Christ.
    Tammas, it’s alright, honest.
    He shook his head.
    Come on . . . She tugged on his arm again and then they carried on walking towards the cinema; but before arriving he stopped and brought his right hand out his pocket so that Betty had to
withdraw her arm.
    He was shaking his head. Naw, he said, and he sighed quite loudly. Betty . . . He rubbed his eyes. This is out of order. I’m sorry, I really . . . He touched her on the arm, just beneath
her shoulder, then turned about and strode off across the street, and down the way, without looking back.
    •••
    His head jerked up from the pillow at the slight tremor of the clock and he switched off the alarm before it sounded. His eyelids closed. They opened, and he groped at the top
of the bedside cupboard where the cigarette packet was lying. He left it there and raised himself up, studied the clock. A moment later he slid out between the covers and went through to the
lavatory before getting on his clothes.
    The house was in semi darkness. He tugged the cord to pull up the venetian blinds in the kitchen, leaving off the electric light. He ate cornflakes and milk, rinsing out the bowl and spoon and
drying them, returning them into their places in the cupboard. Then he collected his jerkin and cigarettes from his own