The Busconductor Hines (31 page)

A bit easy on the language there, called the Committee man.

Aye, sorry; but I mean if they're going to you know, Christ I mean we're no going to sit back and let them. I think it's a disgrace!

Aye, shouted somebody. Away down and tell them Sammy.

An outbreak of angry muttering.

Hold on a minute, cried a voice. There's got to be a vote.

Hell with the vote, shouted somebody.

Aye, no fucking need, shouted another.

Other voices began to be heard as the Committee man called for order, and the second Committee man climbed onto the tables, also calling for order. The clamour stopped almost at once. Does anybody object if we take the vote just now? asked the first Committee man. Nobody answered. People were looking about. The Committee men exchanged glances and the first went on: All those in favour of withdrawing our labour, if they try to sack the Brother; will you raise your hands!

The response was immediate.

The Committee man grinned: I think that's unanimous.

A few cheers and applause. The Shop Steward had climbed onto a table and he raised his hand. Good to see the support, he said, and I just want to point out that things'll probably no go that far now they see where we stand. Sammy sniffed before continuing. I'll go down the stair and explain the position . . . He nodded.

Reilly had come into the canteen, smiling and shaking his head at Hines, as he queued for something to eat. A constant toing and froing of people both in and out of uniform, walking from the bothy to the canteen, to the snooker-room. Hines would gaze up from the table and find somebody turning away, embarrassed at being caught staring at him. To pass the time he had been borrowing newspapers. One of them he folded and ripped methodically into shapes that multiplied as the paper unfolded. Paul was bored to the point of sleep
but not beyond, and Hines had arranged two chairs so that if he did sleep he wouldnt roll onto the floor. There was no chance of getting him to the nursery now but what did that matter; just one more petty point with nothing to do with anything. Sammy was downstairs; he would be addressing McGilvaray as Mr while he in return would be addressed as Sammy. Was that of more importance than the nursery. Obviously. Obviously it was. What a strange fucking question. That is the kind of thing Hines has to be wary of. Maybe if people would talk to him. But people dont talk to him. Of course there are reasons for this. Most of the crowd attending the Meeting worked the opposite shift from him; when he was on earlyshift they would be on backshift. It was only now, when the earlyshifts were finishing, that folk were coming in to whom Hines could really chat. But not many of them were chatting to him. It was probably his own fault, when all's said and done he is a negation. Being a negation is peculiar. Hines can see himself as this and it makes him think. What he thinks is nobody's business. This is why he left the bothy as soon as possible after the Meeting broke up. The majority had remained there to get their thoughts on the tables. It wasnt Hines' place to be there during such an occurrence. He would be a point of discussion and was duty bound to vanish. If he had shirked his duty and stayed, and become involved in laying himself out for inspection, what would have happened. To begin with he wouldnt have done it. He would have lied. It is pointless lying. Hines gets sick of it. A wee boy sits facing him. Probably Hines will become his greatest influence. So what. There isnt much to be said about that. Lying wouldnt make any difference. It's all a load of shite. And what about auld Boabbie. Is he Hines' greatest influence. Hines cannot talk to him and vice versa. What has that got to do with it. So fucking stupid. There are matters in hand of an important
nature. Reilly has been talking with great excitement. What is there to be excited about. The thing has finished before it has started but he cannot understand. Reilly cannot understand. In a year the fare to Australia can be achieved. Reilly would give a year's wages to be in Hines' shoes. Hines would sell his part in the dispute. He doesnt want to be in his own shoes. There are practical reasons. He is not able to shout. If Reilly was in his shoes then he could shout but as things are he is unable to do so, because he is directly involved. Reilly can shout. He could be ben in the bothy doing shouting instead of eating soup in the canteen. He could be downstairs shouting. They should all be downstairs shouting. None of them are downstairs shouting. They let Sammy go down to speak and he will address McGilvaray as Mr and in return be addressed as Sammy. What is the point. There is no point in any of it. They do not understand. There is no point in speech. How come they speak. What do they speak for. It is beyond belief. How come people are content to act in this manner. Are they fucking crazy. McGilvaray is the type of fellow for whom a no-nonsense lack of shilly-shally goes down a bomb. If you trace a knife line from the adam's apple to the belly button his blood'll spurt in wee bubbles. If I had a gun I'd blow McGilvaray's fucking brains out. Hines grinned. To be honest I wouldnt – ever see his daughter! Eh, christ sake, murky nights at Yoker terminus.

Naw, said Reilly, it's Campbell gets me; I'd love to have seen his face when you refused to sign for the line.

Hines nodded. It was yet another lie. How come you nod to such nonsense. You spend your life working such that you cannot say what the things are. An apple a day keeps the doctor in clover.

Reilly smiled. He likes to smile. He is a humorous fellow. He shall be a more agreeable Shop Steward than Sammy; he shall address McGilvaray as Mr and in return be addressed as Willie
– or Bill. From now on I'm going to call you Bill Bill. Hello Bill, how's it going?

Your patter's really degenerating ya cunt ye.

Is that right Bill?

Reilly grinned. He finished eating by wiping his soup bowl with his last bit of bread.

Bread had been the highlight of the day so far for Paul. Hines had bought them both soup and bread; and he was amazed to see the bread being served dry, without margarine. He thought it was a joke, grinning his disbelief at Hines and it had taken him a while to make the first bite. Now he was munching away on potato crisps, bought for him by Reilly. It was good to have bought him the crisps. Hines could have done it himself if he had thought about it but he didnt. Reilly is good at thinking of things like that.

I've got one question for you Bill, one question and one question only. How d'you make a petrol bomb?

Reilly's look!

Naw seriously man; d'you know?

Others were sitting at the table. This made matters complicated. Hines grinned and glanced from face to face. I mean surely that's a fucking legit question to ask a potential Shop Steward? I mean if I was fucking Shop Steward I'd want to know such things in the off chance of helping out the Members.

If you were Shop Steward there wouldnt be any bloody Members, laughed a fellow with a large nose.

Hines has nothing against people with large noses. His own nose isnt small. Nor is it large. It is just right. The nose that juts from the face of Hines is just right. Heh you ya cunt, he said, see if you were fucking Shop Steward!

The expectant faces.

Hines laughed briefly. Naw, seriously, I want to be a cowboy when I grow up.

I wish to God they would sack you, chuckled somebody.

Reilly nodded, grinning.

I didnt even have time for a pint! laughed Barry.

Well fuck sake man, said Hines, neither did I . . . He glanced at Paul and winked. Give us a crisp.

Paul gave him one.

Heh Willie, said a conductor, you missed yourself; best Meeting I've ever been at. See when the vote came! totally unanimous. Everybody in the room man it was really good.

Aye, I'd like to have been there, I must admit.

Admit fuck all, said Hines, just keep it to yourself Willie; that's my advice to you.

Ohh! Reilly rubbed his forehead. Anybody got a fucking aspirin!

Christ sake ya cunt ye one minute you complain about me no talking then the next you're fucking . . . ! Hines shook his head. I'm definitely going to Australia now.

I wish you would and give us all peace, laughed a driver. Bloody strikes! Christmas coming and no wages! murder polis.
You
can go and explain it to the wife.

Aw here we go, said Reilly.

I'm only joking.

Hines muttered, Is he – is he fuck.

A short silence. The driver shook his head. I was only fucking joking.

Hines raised his right hand. The man was only joking. Anyway, to be perfectly fucking honest with yous all, I dont want anybody going on strike on my behalf. I want to do it on my tod. It's my strike, yous can get your own. I mean they're fucking easy to find.

Here we go! Barry smiled.

Naw, said Hines, the job's so fucking lousy you can choose anything you like, just at random. Same with me. That's what
I'll do, I'll go down the stair and tell them I'm on strike for something else altogether.

Such as? said Reilly.

Look ya cunt you started at 5 this morning and finished at the back of 2. I mean it's alright for you and that, no weans or fuck all – you can jump into bed with Isobel whenever you fucking like. But no me man, I'm beat. How come we dont strike about that!

Shut up ya fucking idiot.

Did that no make sense?

Heh, said Barry, what did Fairlie say to you? you never told us.

Ach . . . Hines shrugged then said: Tell me this Barry; how come we dont go on strike about these Office cunts? I mean they're earning more than we do for fewer fucking hours.

Barry shrugged.

No reply, see. Hines shook his head. Heh Bill, what about you? One question and one question only.

Aw give us peace Rab for fuck sake.

Hines looked at him and nodded.

After a moment Barry said, I wonder what's keeping them. Nobody replied. The driver who had only been joking got up and said he was feeling like a cup of tea, and went to buy one.

Hines said to Reilly, You were asking about the line and I never told you. I just never took it because it meant I would have to put on my uniform and I wouldnt be getting paid for it; basically I mean that's it. But as far as Sammy's concerned – and every other cunt – it's got nothing to do with that; they're going to go on strike if I get the boot and that's all really.

Naw it's no, muttered Barry.

It is but; look at what he said in the bothy, the main issue, it's Fairlie being out of order. I mean . . . Hines snorted. It's a
load of shite. I'm on strike because garage business isnt my business outwith the sold hours.

Reilly grinned. How can you be on strike if you're no working? Eh? you're outwith the sold hours right fucking now ya daft bastard.

Hines looked at him and chuckled. He lifted the tin and prised off the lid. Your patter's improving Reilly. Heh, your turn for the tea.

Naw it's no ya cunt ye!

No time for tea, said somebody.

One of the Committee men had appeared in the doorway. Hines had turned away; he asked Paul if he was doing okay, if he wanted a cup of milk or something. When the Committee man arrived at the table Hines glanced round at him, aware of the faces looking from elsewhere in the canteen. They're wanting to see you down the stair.

He nodded. Who was it asked?

What?

Was it Sammy told you?

Eh; naw, an Inspector – Bob Docherty.

Is it McGilvaray I've to go into?

Aye, come on, they're waiting.

O sorry, I better run. He got up, glanced at those round the table. How come McGilvaray doesnt go into the fucking bothy to see me? I mean I've got to go into his fucking Office and face him and Fairlie, and Campbell, and that stupid fucking Inspector. It'll no do. It'll just no do. What d'you think Willie? point for discussion?

Reilly didnt reply.

Should we go on strike or what? Hines grinned and followed the Committee man to the door. But he had forgotten about Paul; he returned quickly. I'll no be long son, just stay here with Willie eh!

The boy wasnt looking too keen. With a bit of luck he'd get a chip on his shoulder – probably against Hines; it wasnt him bought the potato crisps! That's the trouble with weans, a selfish bunch of bastards.

He followed the Committee man in silence, occasionally smiling when somebody they passed called a comment. At the counter-hatch downstairs in the Office he said to the Inspector: I dont feel like this. The Inspector shrugged. He was just doing his job. You run messages for Deskclerks and garage Superintendents whenever necessary. Hines smiled, It's my angina acting up.

He followed the Inspector across the Office area and through into a corridor, along to the Office of the Superintendent – a room Hines knew well, having made frequent visits to the place over the years, in order that he might explain certain conductorial deeds of a nefarious nature and be brought to account for same, that a rightful retribution might be passed upon him, set against him, as further Black Marks in the File, to be noted against his name, a name which has long been frowned upon when matters pertaining to the recruitment of new men are discussed within the School for Busdrivers. The Inspector had chapped the door and waited. Hines smiled at him. Then a noise from within which amounted to Enter!