Greyhound for Breakfast by James Kelman Read Free Book Online

means it was fucking dear.’
    ‘You’re a bastard,’ said Fisher.
    Eddie grinned. ‘Yous for another? A wee yin?’
    ‘Eh . . . Aye.’ Fisher said, ‘I’ll have a doctor.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘A doctor.’ Fisher winked at Mick. ‘He doesnt know what a doctor is!’
    ‘What is it?’ asked Eddie.
    ‘A doctor, a doctor snoddy, a voddy.’
    ‘Aw aye. What about yourself?’ Eddie asked Mick.
    ‘I’ll have one as well Eddie, thanks.’
    Although it was busy at the bar he was served quite quickly. It was good seeing as many working behind the counter as this. One of things he didnt like about England was the way sometimes you
could wait ages to get served in their pubs – especially if they heard your accent.
    He checked the time of the clock on the gantry with his wrist-watch. He would have to remember about the bank otherwise it could cause problems. Plus he was wanting to get a wee present for his
mother, he needed a couple of quid for that as well.
    When he returned to the table Fisher said, ‘I was telling Mick about some of your exploits.’
    ‘Exploits.’ Eddie laughed briefly, putting the drinks on the table top and sitting down.
    ‘It’s cause the 2,000 Guineas is coming up. It’s reminding me about something!’
    ‘Aw aye.’ Eddie said to Mick. ‘The problem with this cunt Fisher is that he’s loyal to horses.’
    ‘Loyal to fucking horses!’ Fisher laughed loudly.
    ‘Ah well if you’re thinking about what I think you’re thinking about!’
    ‘It was all Sweeney’s fault!’
    ‘That’s right, blame a guy that cant talk up for himself!’
    ‘So it was but!’
    Eddie smiled. ‘And Dempster, dont forget Dempster!’
    ‘That’s right,’ said Fisher, turning to Mick, ‘Dempster was into it as well.’
    Mick shook his head. Fisher was laughing again, quite loudly.
    ‘It wasnt as funny as all that,’ said Eddie.
    ‘You dont think so! Every other cunt does!’
    ‘Dont believe a word of it,’ Eddie told Mick.
    ‘And do you still punt?’ Mick asked him.
    ‘Now and again.’
    ‘Now and again!’ Fisher laughed.
    Eddie smiled.
    ‘There’s four races on the telly this afternoon,’ said Mick.
    ‘Aye,’ said Fisher, ‘we were thinking of getting a couple of cans and that. You interested?’
    ‘Eh, naw, I’m no sure yet, what I’m doing.’
    Fisher nodded.
    ‘It’s just eh . . .’
    ‘Dont worry about it,’ said Fisher, and he drank a mouthful of the vodka.
    ‘How’s Stevie?’
    ‘Alright – as far as I know, I dont see him much; he hardly comes out. Once or twice at the weekends, that’s about it.’
    ‘Aye.’
    ‘What about yourself, you no married yet?’
    ‘Eh . . .’ Eddie made a gesture with his right hand. ‘Kind of yes and no.’
    Fisher jerked his thumb at Mick. ‘He’s married – got one on the way.’
    ‘Have you? Good, that’s good.’ Eddie raised his tumbler of whisky and saluted him. ‘All the best.’
    ‘Thanks.’
    ‘I cant imagine having a kid,’ said Eddie, and to Fisher he said: ‘Can you?’
    ‘What! I cant even keep myself going never mind a snapper!’
    Mick laughed and brought out a 10-pack of cigarettes. Eddie pushed it away when offered. ‘It’s my crash,’ he said.
    ‘Naw,’ said Mick, ‘you bought the bevy.’
    ‘I know but . . .’ He opened his own packet and handed each of them a cigarette and he said to Fisher: ‘You skint?’
    Fisher paused and squinted at him, ‘What do you think?’
    ‘I think you’re skint.’
    ‘I’m skint.’
    ‘It’s a fucking dump of a city this, every cunt’s skint.’
    Fisher jerked his thumb at Mick. ‘No him, he’s no skint, a fucking millionaire, eh!’
    Mick chuckled, ‘That’ll be fucking right.’
    Eddie flicked his lighter and they took a light from him. Fisher said, ‘Nice . . .’
    Eddie nodded, slipping it back into his pocket.
    ‘What you up for by the way?’
    ‘Och, a couple of things.’
    ‘No going to tell us?’
    ‘Nothing to tell.’
    Fisher winked at