The door of the pub swung open as a man came out and passed by the close. Danny was at the door. A hot draught of blue air and the smells of the drink, the whirr of the voices, reds and whites and blues and whites all laughing and swearing and chapping at dominoes.
He walked to the chip shop.
Ten number tens and a book of matches Mrs, for my da.
The woman gave him the cigarettes. When she gave his change he counted it slowly, he said: Much are your chips?
Same as the last time.
Will you give us a milky-way, he asked.
He ate half of the chocolate and covered the rest with the wrapping, stuck it into his pocket. He smoked a cigarette; he got to his feet when he had tossed it away down the close.
Edging the door ajar he could see Uncle Archie still at the table. The beer was the same size as the last time. The small tumbler was going back to his lips. Danny sidled his way into the pub, but once inside he went quickly to the long table. He was holding the torn-in-half tickets for the return journey home, clenched in his right hand. He barged a way in between two men and put one of the tickets down on the table quite near to the beer glass.
I’m away now Uncle Archie.
What’s up Danny boy?
Nothing. I’m just away home. . He turned to go then said loudly: But I’ll no tell my mother.
He pushed out through the men. He had to get out. Uncle Archie called after him but on he strode sidestepping his way beyond the crowded bar area.
Twenty minutes before the train would leave. In the waiting room he sat by the door and watched for any sign of his uncle. It was quite quiet in the station, considering there had been a game during the afternoon. He found an empty section in a compartment of the train, closed the door and all of the windows, and opened the cigarette packet. The automatic doors shut. He stared back the way until the train had entered a bend in the track then stretched out, reaching his feet over onto the seat opposite. He closed his eyes. But had to open them immediately. He sat up straight, he dropped the cigarette on the floor and then lifted it up and opened the window to throw it out; he shut the window and sat down, resting his head on the back of the seat, he gazed at the floor. The train crashed on beneath the first bridge.
The chief thing about this game
McGraty had to wait outside the door for a while. Then the foreman called him in and explained the job he was putting him to work on. He took him to the machine and left him with the man there. Show him the ropes Tony, he added.
Tony glanced at McGraty. I thought they were sending a young fellow. I dont mean you’re old or nothing.
McGraty shrugged.
Just stand and watch for the time being. And I might as well tell you, these shoes you’re wearing, they’re fucking hopeless. And the safety helmet. Surprised he allowed you in here without one.
Tony had picked up a pair of enormous heavy-duty clamps while he was speaking. He positioned himself at a point to the side of the machine. Over the top McGraty could see the head of another man bobbing about now and again.
A banging noise. Tony had crouched, staring into the machine. Slowly a copper bar of some 6 feet in length and 8 inches square issued out from between rollers. It was white hot. Tony caught the end of it in the clamps once enough of the copper bar was showing and he allowed it to come forwards until it appeared set to clatter to the floor. But it stopped at the edge with his weight balancing it from the protruding end. He lowered this end onto a small metal trolley he manoeuvred into position with his right foot. He moved backwards so that the bar came off the rollers and dropped. Still with the clamps on the end he pushed it forwards into a different part of the machine and soon the bar disappeared through other rollers. Stepping back and to his left a pace Tony wiped his brow with his sleeve. The copper bar now issued from a different pair of rollers; it was much longer and narrower, and a great deal less hot than before. He pushed it into another place; he exchanged his clamps for a lighter pair, and wiped his brow. He glanced at McGraty. The process was repeated. He glanced at McGraty who nodded.
The banging noise. Tony crouched nearer the machine, and turned his back to it with the clamps poised slightly above. He muttered, Watch this bit.
McGraty also crouched a little.
There was a gap the size of a mouse-hole about a foot above the metal plated floor. Suddenly a wire thrust its way out and was caught by Tony who had immediately begun trotting to the rhythm of its movement in the direction of a sort of kerb twelve yards off. The wire still issued from the rollers. Upon reaching the kerb he thrust the wire straight into a narrow tunnel through it, and jumped over the kerb with the momentum of his trot. The tunnel was angled so that the wire was coming out directly across to where another man was standing at a smaller machine some thirty yards away.
Tony had returned. He was smoking a cigarette. Barely glancing at McGraty he asked if he had ever done any work on a roller before. McGraty shook his head: I was in the building game.
Tony frowned.
I never said I had on the form. McGraty shrugged, They told me there was six weeks probation so it can be learned.
Aye. . He put the cigarette in his mouth and collected the heavy-duty clamps. I’ll let you have a go before tea-break. Where’s your gloves by the way?
Gloves?
Jesus Christ.
They never said anything about it.
You cant expect to work the clamps without the fucking things. Tony shook his head and strode round the machine, out of sight; he came back with the man who worked the copper bar from the other side and motioned McGraty over. He said: Tell him what you’ve just told me. About the gloves and that.
McGraty shrugged.
And the helmet, tell him about the safety helmet.
They never said fuck all about it either. And the boots, nothing about them.
Aye you’ll have to buy them, said the other man, cause they dont supply them. Get them out the First Aid room. They cost a few quid right enough, but it gets deducted every week, it’s no too bad. And the boots’re okay, eh Tony?
Aye, no bad.
Wear them to the fucking dancing if you like, grinned the man.
McGraty also smiled, and he took a half smoked cigarette from behind his ear and struck a match for it.
Okay, said Tony, time for another yin.
McGraty had frowned and taken the cigarette out of his mouth, he studied it: Tastes like sugar or something.
Tony had not heard, and the other man was already out of sight behind the machine. An overhead crane was arriving with another copper bar which was white hot, straight out of the furnace at the bottom end of the factory floor. McGraty took another drag on the cigarette then stubbed it out.
After tea-break Tony came with a pair of old gloves he had found; the stitching was out in places. He shrugged. All I could find. Sort it out with the gaffer when you see him next.
McGraty pulled them on without replying. He lifted the heavy-duty clamps and stood exactly where Tony had earlier. The banging. The copper bar showed. He got the clamps round its end and dragged it out to its other end. He stood for a moment, then Tony kicked the metal trolley towards him. He nodded, manoeuvring the trolley into position with his right foot and the copper bar dropped to it, the clamps fell out of his hands and the copper bar clattered onto the trolley, turning it over and bouncing once. McGraty and Tony had jumped clear. Tony looked at him. What did you let it drop for?