Free The Busconductor Hines by James Kelman Page A

have fucking jacked it if I’m standing here in the scabby bastarn transport green with machine and cashbag for christ sake!
    Careful man, dont poke.
    O very sorry sir please sir I’m poking. Hines was slinging the machine and cashbag up over his shoulder and off, lowering them to the floor that they lay upright against the bottom panel of the driver’s cabin. He took off the uniform jacket and turned to be facing the lower-deck passengers: Any of yous got a spare pair of breeks?
    Reilly hooting.
    Honest, I cant absolve myself in these greenly yins I’m wearing. Come on now, a spare pair of breeks; who’s got a spare pair of breeks? External condition irrelevant. Women’s slacks’ll do champion. Eh? come on, I’ve got to be having jacked this kettle of cabbage.
    A middle-aged couple rising from their seat; the man first down and holding out money. The fare son.
    I’ll swop it for your trousers, and throw in a ticket-machine of a money-making nature.
    The man smiling while placing the money onto the grooved top of the cabin door, and half turning his back to mutter, Just keep it for yourself – we’re no needing any tickets.
    And the woman grinning back to the other passengers.
    Dear god. Naw, I beg your pardon sir please sir never let it be said sir if truth be told I’ve no fiddled a coin for nigh on 4 year sir honest, and such an item cannot be contemplated during one’s penultimate conducting moments.
    So you’ve no jacked it! Reilly laughing: I might’ve blooming known!
    The bus slowed to a halt. The couple disembarked. Other three people came aboard. The doors shut.
    You’re a stabintheback cunt Willie did anybody ever tell you that?
    Ssh. Reilly smiled. Away upstairs for a smoke.
    Hines looked at him.

    The tea was lukewarm; he gulped it down and replaced the cup on top of the television, then stretched out beneath the blankets. Sandra came in from the lobby dressed in her going-to-the-office clothes. She smiled: I thought you’d gone back to sleep.
    Naw.
    When she noticed him still watching her she said, I’m meeting mum in town remember – to do a bit of shopping. Christmas, she mouthed.
    O aye, aye.
    Mind and give him something to eat.
    Hines nodded, and got out of bed.
    I dont mean just now Rab – before he goes to the nursery. She smiled. Stay in bed if you like . . . I better hurry or I’ll be late.
    He continued dressing, went to the tallboy for a fresh pair of socks and a T-shirt. Then Paul kicked open the door, carrying an armful of toys and stuff. Hines looked at him and made to say something but he shrieked and jerked his shoulders back the way. Sandra: she had come behind him and put her arms round him. Jesus christ.
    O Rab I didnt mean it!
    The fucking buttons Sandra, freezing.
    She grinned.
    He shook his head. He laughed, and drew her into him, held her closely. Trying to kill me woman. Heart attacks etcetera – at least wait till I get myself insured!
    She chuckled. I better go . . . She hurried to Paul and kissed him on the head.
    These feminist career women! no time to kiss their weans properly! Dont worry wee man, just call me mummy from now on.
    Paul grinned. Hines winked at him.
    Conspiracies as usual, muttered Sandra with a smile.
    Aye well we’ve got to stick the gether, said Hines, following her into the lobby; he gripped her shoulders for the last couple of steps; and at the door he kissed her again – until Paul tugged at his trousers. Jealous wee . . . He stepped back to lift him up.
    The front door was open and Sandra on the outside landing. Watch out for these bastarn salesmen, he cried.
    Ssh Rab.
    Mummy, shouted Paul. Kiss!
    O God. She returned quickly. Hines was laughing; he also kissed her. Away and put your socks on, she said, you’ll catch pneumonia.
    Aye aye sir.
    Paul was down onto the floor and off and running ben the front room before Hines had locked the door. He went to joinhim, by