The Busconductor Hines by James Kelman Read Free Book Online Page B

from tray to table and collected the empties. Why dont you join the Foreign Legion, he grinned. Either she failed to hear or she ignored him. He reached for the water jug and added a measure to his whisky.
    Reilly was talking. He was saying, No chance, they’ll never give in without a fight. Look at that last bother we had over the rise; I mean after the autumn agreement it was supposed to be a formality, but was it? was it fuck!
    Aye and we’re still waiting for the backpay, said Colin.
    What they’ll do is toss it into us at Christmas week then every cunt’ll think they’ve had a fucking bonus!
    Hines laughed with the others.
    McCulloch shook his head at Stewart. You’re just encouraging them.
    Ah you cant escape politics.
    Dead right Stewart, but it’s no good telling this yin.
    What you want to do is get a transfer down to our garage, said Hines, then you’ll find out: bunch of fucking houdinis so they are.
    They laughed again. Rab’s right but, continued Reilly. It’s murder polis. You’ve just got to mention the word strike and no cunt’ll speak to you for six months.
    No wonder. Union union union, muttered McCulloch.
    See what I mean!
    Aye well fuck sake if I started talking about the job yous mob’d soon be shooting me down in flames.
    Hines frowned. That’s actually true.
    I know it’s fucking true!
    And this big forward we had . . . the driver named Donnie was saying: Eight goals in three games before he does a vanishing trick. Fuck knows what happened to him. One day he’s there the next nobody’s seen him. Same thing with another yin we had, a full-back – just a young cunt but he was big as well, a rare header of a ball; it was like having an extra striker at corner kicks. Caught by a plain clothes.
    Aye, went on Stewart, the bastard jumped onto his bus a couple of stops from George Square and told him to keep the ticket. The daft cunt did and that was that; a 10 o’clock line waiting for him when he paid in his money. Bumped out the door right away, no messing.
    Heh wait a minute, began Colin Brown.
    Agent provocateur, said Reilly. You trying to tell us the plain-clothes told him to keep the ticket and then done him for fiddling? I mean what was your Shop Steward doing?
    Fuck all he could do. The boy never told any cunt. And his driver was a Paki – one of them that never speaks to a white face.
    Aye but surely there was a case for reinstatement?
    Stewart shrugged. One of the lads went up to the place he stayed but the landlord told him he’d fucked off down south or something.
    Rare player too. Donnie shook his head: So all in we lost half a team in about three weeks. Next thing you know we’re losing five games on the trot. Then the shield: knocked out in the first fucking round.
    Aye, said Reilly, when something like that happens you’ve got to act fast.
    Colin muttered, Your branch sounds as bad as ours.
    Salt of the earth. Our branch is the salt of the earth; especially during the long hot summers . . . Hines lighted his cigarette, reached for a drink.
    I thought you were asleep, said McCulloch.
    Wish to christ I was man, that’s the trouble with nowadays, you yawn and then you yawn and what fucking happens?
    Dont worry, grinned Colin to the other two drivers, he’s always like this.
    Handy to know, replied Donnie.
    Reilly was calling to Sandra: Did you and him have a drink before you got here!
    She smiled. Hines winked. One of the women said something to her and she smiled again, and then was involved in a conversation there.
    The men had laughed at something.
    Donnie was saying: I’m telling you – and when I ask for a fucking omelette I get a hard-boiled egg!
    I heard that! called his wife. To the others at her table she added: Just because they’re sitting over there they think they can say what they like.
    Away and give us peace! grinned Donnie.
    Stewart winked: I knew it was a mistake to