The Gambling Man

When eventually they tipped him from the box he was as stiff as a corpse itself, and not until he had vomited, after the grown-ups had thumped him on the back and rubbed him, did he start to cry. He’d had nightmares for years afterwards, and night after night had walked in his sleep, through the trap door and down the ladder. But having reached the kitchen door that led outside he would always wake up, then scamper back to bed where he would lie shivering until finally cold gave place to heat and he would fall into sweaty sleep.

But since starting collecting, he’d hardly had a nightmare and he hadn’t sleep-walked for years. But what now, and in the weeks ahead?

Jimmy came in at half-past six and stood just inside the door and stared towards the dess-bed where Rory was sitting propped up, and he grinned widely and said, ‘Aw, lad, it’s good to see you home again,’ then went slowly towards the bed. ‘How you feelin’?’

‘Oh, well, you know, a hundred per cent, less ninety.’

‘Aye, but you’re home and you’ll soon be on your feet again. And you know somethin’?’ He sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I’ve seen him, Mr Kilpatrick. I told him how things stood, an’ you know what he said? He said the rest can be paid so much a month. If you could clear it off in a year he’d be satisfied.’

‘He said that?’

‘Aye.’

‘Oh well—’ Rory sighed—’that’s something. Yes—’ he nodded at Jimmy—’that’s something. We can go ahead now, can’t we?’

‘You know, he came to the yard for me ’cos he was down that way on business. And Mr Baker wanted to know what he was about ’cos I had to leave me work for five minutes, and so I told him.’ Jimmy pulled a face. ‘He wasn’t pleased. Well, I knew he wouldn’t be. You know what he said? He said he had intended keepin’ me on an givin’ me a rise . . . That for a tale. He asked what we were givin’ for it and when I told him he said we were being done, paying that for the goodwill when it was just a few sticks of furniture and half an old patched sculler. One of the lads told me that he had seen him round there himself lookin’, an’ what he bet was that the old fellow was after the place for himself. Anyway, we scotched him.’ He jerked his head and grinned widely, then added, ‘Eeh! man, I’m excited. I never thought, I never thought.’ He leant forward and put his hand on Rory’s. ‘And if it wasn’t for what happened you we’d be over the moon, wouldn’t we?’

‘Aye, well, we can still be over the moon now.’

‘Get off the side of that bed with your mucky clothes on!’

‘Aw, Lizzie.’ Jimmy rose to evade her hand and he laughed at her as he said, ‘You’re a grousy woman,’ and when she made to go for him he ran into the scullery, his body swaying and his laughter touched with glee.

Jimmy was happy, Ruth was happy, and, of course, Lizzie was happy; and Janie would be happy; everybody was happy . . . except himself . . . and John George. John George. God Almighty, John George!

Yes, Janie was happy at the news that they had got the yard, for this meant she could be married any time now. Yet her excitement seemed to have been stirred rather by the fact that she had been granted a full day’s leave next Thursday. She sat by the bed gazing at Rory as she gave him the news. He wasn’t actually in bed, just lying on the top of it fully dressed. His legs and ribs still ached, and so the bed was left down during the day so that he could rest upon it.

Janie glanced from him to the Sunday company, all assembled as usual, and she hunched her shoulders at them as she said, ‘I told a fib, well, only a little one. I told her, the missis, it would need time to clear up the place an’ put it to rights an’ suggested like if I could have a full day. But you know what I wanted the day for? I thought we’d go up to Durham and—’ She clapped her hand over her mouth, then stared at Rory before looking back at the others again and saying, ‘Eeh! I forgot.’ Again she was looking into Rory’s unblinking stare and, taking his hand, she said softly, ‘We . . . we didn’t tell you, ’cos you were so bad, and you wouldn’t have been able to take it in.’ She gave him an apologetic look now. ‘I mean, with your head bein’ knocked about an’ that. And we knew that if you had been all right you would have asked for him, you know. Now, Rory, don’t be upset.’ She gripped his hands tightly. ‘John George’s been a silly lad. It’s all through that lass. You know, you said he was daft. Well, he was, and . . . and he took some money. He meant to put it back. I don’t know whether you knew or not but he had been on the fiddle for a long time and so . . . and so he was caught and’—her head drooped to one side as she shook it—’he was sent along the line. He’s in Durh . . . Oh, Rory . . .’

They were all gathered round the bed now looking flown on him. The sweat was pouring from him and Lizzie cried at them, ‘Get back! the lot of you’s an’ give him air.’ She looked angrily across the bed at Janie. ‘You shouldn’t have given it him like that.’