The Gambling Man

She was now pressing Jimmy towards the door. ‘Tell . . . tell him I understand, and . . . and shell be welcome. Tell him that, shell be welcome.’

Jimmy didn’t speak but, grabbing up his cap, he pulled it tight down on his head, then ran wobbling down the path and out of the gate, calling, ‘Rory! Rory!’

He was at the top of the bank before he caught up with Rory.

‘Aw, man, hold your hand a minute. It’s . . . it’s no use gettin’ in a paddy. I . . . I told you afore we come it would give them a gliff; it gave me a gliff, not only . . . not because of Janie, but . . .’

‘But what?’ Rory pulled up so suddenly that Jimmy went on a couple of steps before turning to him and looking up at him and saying fearlessly, ‘You want the truth? All right, you’ll get it. She’s different, older; plain, as Lizzie said, plain an’ . . .’

‘Aye, go on.’ Rory’s voice came from deep within his throat.

‘Well . . . All right then, I’ll say it, I will, I’ll say it, she’s a different class from you. You’ll . . . you’ll be like a fish out of water.’

Rory, his voice a tone quieter now, bent over Jimmy and said slowly, ‘Did you feel like a fish out of water last night when you met her?’

Jimmy tossed his head, blinked, then turned and walked on, Rory with him now, and after a moment, he answered, ‘No, ’cos . . . ’cos I felt she had set out to make me like her. But I won’t be livin’ with her.’ He now turned his head up to Rory. ‘That’s the difference, I won’t have to live her life and meet her kind of people. I won’t have to live up to her.’

‘And you think I can’t?’

Jimmy’s head swayed from one side to the other following the motion of his body, and he said, ‘Aye, just that.’

‘Thanks. Thanks very much.’

‘I . . . I didn’t mean it nasty, man, no more than they meant to be nasty.’

‘Huh! They didn’t mean to be nasty? My God! You must have ten skins. You were there, you were there, man, weren’t you?’

Jimmy didn’t answer for a while, and then he said quietly, ‘Me ma says she’ll be welcome; you can bring her and she’ll be welcome.’

‘Like hell I will! Take her up there among that bigoted tribe? Not on your bloody life. Well—’ he squared his shoulders and his step quickened and his arms swung wider—‘why should I worry me head, they’re the losers, they’ve potched themselves. I could have put them all on their feet, I could have set them all up, set them up for life.’ He cast a hard glance down now on Jimmy and demanded, ‘Do you know how much I’ll be worth when I marry her? Have you any idea? I’ll be a rich man, ’cos she’s rollin’, and I’ll be in control. Just think on that.’

‘Aye well, good for you, I hope it keeps fine for you.’

The colloquial saying which was for ever on Lizzie’s tongue caused Rory to screw up his eyes tightly for a moment.

I hope it keeps fine for you.

Would he ever do anything right in this world? Would he ever do anything to please anybody? . . . Well, he was pleasing her, wasn’t he? He had never seen a woman so openly happy in his life as he had her these past three weeks. Her happiness was embarrassing; aye, and humbling, making him say to himself each night when he left her, I’ll repay her in some way, and he would, he would, and to hell with the rest of them. The kitchen had seen him for the last time, he’d go to that registry office whenever she liked and he’d show them, by God! he’d show them. He would let them see if he could live up to her or not.

I hope it keeps fine for you.

And Janie was dead!

3

He let himself in through the front door, but as he opened the door leading from the lobby into the hall Jessie was there to close it for him.

‘What a night, sir. Eeh! you are wet.’ As she took his hat and thick tweed coat from him he bent towards her and said in a conspiratorial whisper, ‘Well, don’t shout it out, Jessie, or I’ll have to take cough mixture.’

‘Oh, sir.’ She giggled and shook her head, then said, ‘The mistress is upstairs,’ and as he nodded at her and went towards the staircase she hissed after him, ‘Your boots, sir.’

He looked down at his damp feet, then jerking his chin upwards and biting on his bottom lip like a boy caught in a misdemeanour he sat down on the hall chair and unlaced his boots. He then took his house shoes from her hand and pulled them on, and as he rose he bent towards her again and said in a whisper, ‘Between you all I’ll end up in a blanket.’

Again she giggled, before turning away towards the kitchen to inform the cook that the master was in. She liked the master, she did; the house had been different altogether since he had come into it. He might have come from the bottom end of nowhere but he didn’t act uppish. And what’s more, he had made the mistress into a new woman. By! aye, he had that. She had never seen such a change in anybody. Nor had she seen such a change in the house. Everybody was infected; as cook said, they’d all got the smit . . .

On opening the bedroom door he almost pushed her over and he put out his arm swiftly to catch her, saying, ‘Why are you standin’ behind the door?’