My fingers were fucking burning. Fucking gloves. McGraty shook his head.
Tony was walking out from the area, he cupped his hand round his mouth and shouted: Heh Shug, Shug. A lift. Heh.
Seconds later the overhead crane began moving, it made a rattling noise across the ceiling and the driver let the big hook down when it arrived. Using the clamps Tony got one end of the copper bar off the floor and kicked the hook round it. The crane raised it to sufficient height for the trolley to be pushed beneath, then the hook was withdrawn and the crane rattled back down to the furnace. Tony nodded to McGraty who stepped forwards and took the clamps, fixing them round the tip of the copper bar but as he was pushing it closer to the machine the toe of his right shoe nudged it and burst into flames. He screamed as he jumped back. He stubbed and scraped the shoe on the floor until the flames went out. Tony doused the smouldering part with water from a milk bottle. I told you about boots, he muttered.
The man from behind the machine was standing watching, he smiled and walked forwards saying, Fun and games eh!
Tony made no answer but passed him and called on the cranedriver to return. When the copper bar was back on the trolley the other man said, No use, too fucking cold.
Aw christ. Tony shook his head and lit a fresh cigarette.
Dont worry, said the man, we’ve got a learner remember. Just dock it off the timesheet.
Aye. Tony instructed the cranedriver and soon the copper bar was being returned to the furnace.
McGraty was leaning against the wall at the rear of the machine. The other man grinned: Hot in here eh? Come on, we’ll have a fucking bevy. . He waved him to follow. Round on his own side he brought a thick brown bottle out of a small metal cupboard and after swigging a mouthful handed it to Tony who also swigged from it before handing it to McGraty. Tony said: Just take a sip, it’s concentrated stuff, replaces the sweat or some fucking thing.
Good with vodka, said the other. Bring in a bottle the morrow and we’ll give it a buzz.
McGraty half smiled; he smelled it. Lime. He nodded and sipped some, passed it back to the other man and pointed to his cigarette: This tastes like sugar.
Aye. Tony nodded, Well, ready for another crack at it?
McGraty looked at him.
The overhead crane was withdrawing a new copper bar from the furnace. The other man said, You’ll be alright as long as you dont panic, that’s the chief thing about this game.
I didnt fucking panic.
Fair enough. You’re still best to dive right in but. Otherwise it can start building up in you.
Tony nodded. And the other man continued, I’ve seen a new guy do what you do and then no try it till later. By that time he was fucked, the nerve gone and that; you’re best to give it a go the now instead of hanging about just thinking.
Aye, said Tony.
McGraty exhaled smoke, he shook his head. Naw, no me, no till I get the right gear.
The other two men exchanged glances. Tony muttered, Well you better go and tell the gaffer.
Just now?
Aye. Tony shrugged. No point standing watching me all day if you’re no even going to attempt the thing.
If I had the right gear I would.
You better tell the gaffer.
Fine, suits me.
A woman was in the office; she had a bundle of papers under one arm and she was waiting for the gaffer to sign a form. McGraty stayed outside until she left. He chapped the door. He chapped again and entered immediately. The gaffer gazed up at him from his chair behind a desk. My shoes, said McGraty, they’re hopeless. Look what happened to this yin. . and he displayed the burnt toe. I need steel toe-caps.
The gaffer nodded.
Same with the gloves. Look at this. . McGraty showed the burst seams: No good, these bars are red hot. I dont know how that guy, Tony — I dont know how he manages just with his hands. I mean christ sake, even with these. . And the bloody heat, it’s murder polis so it is.
The gaffer nodded. The First Aid. You get all the gloves and that down there. The boots too.
I’ve got boots in the house.
Have you?
Aye.
Well. Fine. Okay then. . The gaffer glanced at a printed piece of paper before him.
Will I go to the First Aid or what?
For the gloves?
Aye. And the safety helmet, the guy told me I needed one.
Oh christ aye, aye. You’ve got to keep it on too. At all times. Mind and tell the rest of them to stick to that. Hell of a important. The fucking Safety Officer does his nut if he catches anybody without it. Naw, you’ll have to mind and wear it, at all times.
McGraty nodded.
At the dinner-break he left the other men and went along to the canteen, finding a space beside a group from a different factory section. He took out his sandwiches, he had bought a cup of tea at the counter. One of the men began talking to him for a spell. Later he borrowed a Daily Record and when the man noticed he was reading the racing section he indicated a boy across at another table. The young yin, said the man, he carries a line to the betting shop if you’re interested.
Good. . McGraty nodded and resumed the study. When he was leaving he stopped by the table and scribbled the ids of his horses on the back of an empty cigarette packet, and gave the boy 55 pence with it. It’s a comedy bet son, you want me to write it for you?
The boy shrugged.
McGraty returned him the pencil.
I’ll bring you the copy at the break later, whereabouts you working?
That machine with all the rollers.
What. . The boy moved his chair out and looked down at McGraty’s shoes, he grinned and called to the others at the table. Heh, it’s the new guy from the roller!
The others got up to see McGraty’s shoe. He smiled, Some fucking job eh?
They were amused. McGraty scratched his head.
A copper bar had just been delivered. McGraty was standing near the wall, watching Tony prepare to receive it through the rollers. The cranedriver shouted on him. When he walked beyond the machine the man said: Is it you’s got the good start to your line?
What?
I heard you’d a good start to your line?
Me?
So I heard, 10’s and 16’s, your first two.
Is that right?
Aye, as far as I hear. . The cranedriver pressed a button and his machine moved off, back down towards the furnace. McGraty gazed after it for a moment. From behind the roller the other man called, You’ve knocked it off eh?
McGraty shrugged, I’ll believe it when I see it.
Ah they’ll no con you. It’ll be gen.
You sure?
Aye. . The man stopped when the banging noise was heard. McGraty returned to the other side of the roller in time to see Tony thrusting the bar back inside. He took out a cigarette, he chuckled quietly, briefly; he flipped the match away and exhaled smoke, he watched Tony moving to the next position.
Remember Young Cecil
Young Cecil is medium sized and retired. For years he has been undisputed champion of our hall. Nowadays that is not saying much. This pitch has fallen from grace lately. John Moir who runs the place has started letting some of the punters rent a table Friday and Saturday nights to play Pontoons, and as an old head pointed out the other day: that is it for any place, never mind Porter’s.
In Young Cecil’s day it had one of the best reputations in Glasgow. Not for its decoration or the rest of it. But for all round ability Porter’s regulars took some beating. Back in these days we won the ‘City’ eight years running with Young Cecil Number 1 and Wee Danny backing up at Number 2. You could have picked any four from ten to make up the rest of the team. Between the two of them they took the lot three years running; snooker singles and doubles, and billiards the same. You never saw that done very often.