Free Greyhound for Breakfast by James Kelman Page B

He grinned at Pat. ‘Deuces floating! Long time eh!’
    ‘Aye you’re no kidding! Deuces floating!’ Pat glanced across at the three women but they were talking about something and did not notice, and he grinned at Mister McDonald:
‘Years since I’ve played that.’
    Mister McDonald shoved the cards to Jimmy. ‘Want to get the ball rolling son.’
    Jimmy lifted the pack.
    ‘Better shuffle first.’ Then he glanced suddenly at Arthur: ‘You ready Big Time?’
    Arthur did not say anything. His face was red. He saw Eddie looking away and he placed his hands on the edge of his seat and gripped it.
    ‘It’s a game I’ve always liked but, brag . . .’ Pat tapped ash into the ashtray; his jacket cuff caught on a page of newspaper and he straightened it carefully.
‘What about the post?’ he said to Jimmy.
    ‘Two pence.’
    Mister McDonald smiled: ‘We’ll no get rooked at that anyway, eh Pat!’
    Pat grinned.
    Twenty minutes passed. The door clicked open and Matt appeared. His da called, ‘Fancy a game?’
    ‘Nope.’
    ‘It’s no a bad game Matt,’ said the other man.
    Matt nodded. He was holding a packet of cigarettes and a box of matches in his left hand. He displayed it: ‘Hey Jimmy you left your smokes in the room.’
    Jimmy gazed at him.
    He opened the packet and extracted one, put it in his mouth and got out a match, lighted the cigarette, handed Jimmy the packet and matchbox.
    His maw had been watching and she laughed. ‘See that!’ she said to the other women. ‘He’s a big boy because he smokes!’
    Mister McDonald frowned at Matt. ‘Is this you smoking in the house?’
    Matt ignored the question and said to Arthur: ‘How’s it going?’
    ‘Okay . . .’
    ‘A wee bit slow mind you,’ said Mister McDonald. ‘Eh Pat?’
    ‘Well . . . I suppose . . . Maybe if we stopped the deuces floating?’
    Mister McDonald nodded then winked. ‘I was thinking about a wee game of ponnies.’
    ‘Aw aye. I dont mind.’
    ‘How about it lads?’ Mister McDonald had glanced at Dougie and Eddie, and now at Jimmy and at Arthur. But nobody responded. They looked to Matt eventually and he walked across to his
maw and whispered something to her.
    She paused then called to her husband: ‘Right, that’s enough.’
    ‘Pardon?’
    ‘Time for the boys to go home for their tea.’
    Mister McDonald sniffed; he looked at the boys. ‘Have yous to go home for your tea?’
    No reply.
    ‘Eh lads? Is it teatime?’ He grinned.
    Matt shouted, ‘Da, they’ve got to go home!’
    ‘Nobody’s asking you.’
    Matt glared at his mother who shrugged, turned to the other women and shrugged again. The boy strode out the room. ‘Dont bang that door!’ cried Mister McDonald. But Matt did bang it,
and his bedroom door could be heard banging as well. ‘Some temper that boy,’ muttered the man.
    ‘See you!’ called his wife, ‘you’re just bloody stupid, so you are!’
    ‘Aw thanks . . .’ He winked at the other man. His face became serious and he said to Arthur: ‘You can deal son.’
    ‘Eh . . .’ Arthur gazed at Jimmy, Dougie and Eddie.
    It was Jimmy who spoke. He coughed beforehand, then said, ‘Eh Mister McDonald, see at ponnies, what you usually do is dish round the cards first.’
    ‘Mmhh.’
    ‘Because it’s the bank. You’ve got to see who gets it first.’
    ‘Aw.’
    Jimmy hesitated and looked at Arthur who was staring at the table, as if he was reading something in the spread newspaper. Mister McDonald shifted on his chair and said to Pat, ‘See what I
thought, I thought give the boy the bank cause he’s won most of the cash.’ He pointed at the columns of coins in front of Arthur. ‘Know what I mean? I thought it’d give the
lads a chance to win something back.’
    ‘I take your point.’
    ‘And it saves time.’ He paused, glanced at Arthur: ‘No think so son? A wee bit of excitement as well eh!’ He rubbed his hands together and smiled. ‘Do you no want
the bank?’
    Arthur