The Gambling Man

He didn’t answer immediately but took her arm and led her across the road and up the street towards the beginning of Westoe and the select section of the town, where the big houses were bordered by their white railings and the roads were broad enough to take two carriages passing, and he said now, ‘I wish I could, oh I wish I could ’cos she’s nice, Janie, and bonny. Not as bonny as you, but she’s bonny. And she’s had a life of it. Aye, one hell of a life. And still has. Her da’s got religion on the brain I think. Her mother’s bedridden, and, you know, they spend Sunday praying round her bed, taking turns. The only time she’s allowed out is on a Saturday afternoon when she’s sent to Gateshead to visit an aunt who’s dying and who seems to have a bit of money. Her da wants to make sure of who she’s leaving it to and as he can’t go up himself and the other two lasses are in jobs—there was a brother, Leonard, but he ran off to sea, and good luck to him I say—Anyway, Maggie is allowed to go to Gateshead on a Saturday afternoon. That’s how I met her first, on one of me Saturday train jaunts.’

‘You go on a train to Gateshead every Saturday? I didn’t know that. Eeh! on a train . . .’

‘Well’—he laughed self-consciously—’not every Saturday, only when funds allow. And then not to Gateshead, but Newcastle. I take the train up half-way, say to Pelaw, and walk the rest. I love Newcastle. Aw, lad, if I had the money I’d live there; I wouldn’t mind rent collecting around Newcastle.’

‘Aren’t there any slums up there then?’

‘Oh aye, Janie, plenty. But I don’t look at the slums, it’s the buildings I look at. There’s some beautiful places, Janie. Haven’t you ever been to Newcastle?’

‘No, I’ve been across the water to North Shields and Cullercoats, and once I went as far as Felling on this side, but no, I’ve never been to either Gateshead or Newcastle.’

‘Rory should take you up, he should take you to a theatre.’

‘There’s a good theatre here, I mean in Shields.’

‘Oh aye, it’s all right, but it isn’t like Newcastle.’

‘They get the same turns, only a little later.’

‘Oh, I’m not thinkin’ about the turns, nothing like that, it’s the buildings you know. I suppose it was a wrong thing to say that he should take you to a theatre, but I think he should take you up to Newcastle to see the lovely places there, the streets and buildings.’

‘I never knew you liked that kind of thing, John George?’

‘Oh aye, an’ have ever since I was a lad. It was me da who started it. On holiday week-ends we’d walk up there. Me mother never came, she couldn’t stand the distance and she wasn’t interested in buildings. It was because of me da’s interest in buildings and such that I was taught to read and write. He was standing looking up at a lovely front door once. They’re called Regency. It was off Westgate Hill; it was a bonny piece of work with a lovely fanlight and the windows above had iron balconies to them when a man came alongside of us and started crackin’. And it turned out he worked in an architect’s office and he seemed over the moon when he knew me da was interested in masonry and such and was leading me along the same lines. That was the first time I heard the name Grainger mentioned. He was the great builder of Newcastle. And John Dobson, he used to design for Grainger and others. I’d heard of the Grainger Market, and had been through it, but you don’t think of who built these places. And then there’s Grey Street. Eeh! there’s a street for you. The best time to see it is on a Sunday when there’s no carts or carriages packing it out and few people about. By! it’s a sight. As me da once said, that’s what one man’s imagination could do for a town.’

Janie now blew at the snow that was dusting her lips and turned her head towards him and blinked as she said, ‘You’re a surprise packet you are, John George. Do you ever talk to Rory about it?’

‘Aye, sometimes. But Rory’s not really interested in Newcastle or buildings and such.’

‘No, no, he’s not.’ Janie’s voice held a dull note now as she added, ‘Cards, that’s Rory’s interest, cards. Eeh! he seems to think of nothing else.’

‘He thinks of you.’

‘Aye, he does, I must admit.’ She was smiling at him through the falling snow and she added now, ‘You’ve got me interested in Newcastle. I’ll tell him . . . I’ll tell him he’s got to take me up.’

‘Do that, Janie. Aye, do that. Tell him you want to see Jesmond. By! Jesmond’s bonny. And the houses on the way . . . Eeh! lad, you see nothing like them here.’