Free A Chancer by James Kelman Page B

Life
on the way home, studied form until early afternoon. His nap for the day
was going in the third race at one of the flat meetings. In the betting shop he glanced at the other newspaper formpages on the wall, reading the stable news and any sort of racing gossip. The
first race was about due off. The shows of betting had been coming through for some time. He glanced back at his own newspaper then made out a bet for the favourite, laying on what he had. It
finished fourth.
    He watched the boardman wiping out the old price quotations, tearing down the runners’ list and replacing it with the next. Three or four guys hovered near the pay-out window. He did not
know any of them. A show of betting came for the next race. He walked to the door. Upstairs in the house he switched on the television for the televised racing, seeing his nap win at 5/2 and
hearing the commentators recall how it had won and why it had been well fancied to do so. And the owner being interviewed briefly, receiving a trophy. He turned channels. Motorbikes were racing
over bumpy countryside. He switched it off altogether and went ben the kitchen and put on a kettle of water to boil; then he switched off the oven ring. He went to his room, undressed and got into
bed, then got back up again and drew over the curtains. He dozed eventually.
    •••
    Once he had washed and shaved he put on the fresh shirt and his old suit. Taking the jacket off again he began peeling a couple of potatoes but stopped, he went into the front
room and put on the television and lay down on the settee with his head on an arm of it. Mrs Brady lived in the room and kitchen on the landing directly above. Tammas had known her most of his
life; she had been acquainted with his mother and friends with his grandmother. She rarely left the house; she would be sitting watching television, or reading maybe. Margaret did her shopping
quite a lot; and Tammas too, on occasion – even collecting her pension a couple of times last winter.
    Going into the lobby he opened the outside door but closed it immediately and went ben the kitchen. The potatoes lying on the draining board at the sink. His cigarettes lay on the floor next to
the settee in the living room. Three of them remained. He smoked part of one then nipped it and shoved it back in the packet, and walked to the front door. He left the door on the latch before
going upstairs. When Mrs Brady answered his flapping of the letter box he said: Eh Mrs Brady I was wondering if you had a ten pence bit by any chance – the electricity’s away and that .
. . He sniffed.
    She nodded. I think so, wait a wee minute. Then she closed over the door. Back she came with her purse and she opened it in such a way that he could look inside also. I’ve got a couple,
she said, and she took them out and gave them to him. Here’s another yin as well Tammas.
    Probably one would be enough, he said. He made to return the other two.
    Are you sure? Take them, just in case.
    Well okay. Thanks. I’ll hand them back in tomorrow.
    Och there’s no rush: she shook her head. As soon as you like, it doesnt matter.
    Well . . . thanks.
    Mrs Brady smiled: And where is it the night?
    He shrugged.
    The dancing?
    Maybe, maybe. He grinned, turned away, about to go downstairs.
    And how’s your grannie?
    O fine, fine.
    You tell her I was asking for her. I would go up and see her if I could.
    Okay Mrs Brady.
    Mind and tell her now.
    I will.
    •••
    The conductor was standing waiting for the money. Tammas passed it to him and was returned half. The conductor nodded very slightly, not looking at him, not giving him a ticket,
before moving on down the aisle. Tammas stared out the window, keeping the money enclosed in the palm of his hand. The night could yet turn into something although in another way he would have
preferred the actual ticket. Having this extra bit of dough was a bit of a nuisance. It left him twopence short of the minimum tote bet. Better