Tam, Tea and
Christmas
Charlie stood on the bridge looking down at
the cold, grey river Clyde below him. The freezing drizzle of a Scottish
December trickled down the neck of his thin jacket and he had never felt so
cold or so alone. He glanced to his left where he could see the bright lights
of the city centre and hear the distant echo of music. Buildings here and there
twinkled with Christmas lights but there was no cheer for him. He looked at the
dark, brooding sky, his eyes beyond tears, he had finally hit rock bottom.
Stupidity and drugs had robbed him of his youth, his friends and everything
that was good in his life. Doors had closed to him one by one and the blank
looks on strangers faces told him all he needed to know. As a train rumbled overhead towards Central
Station he turned and walked towards the city centre. He knew the places to go
to get what he needed though he had no money to pay for it. The hard hearts who
sold their poison would probably give him nothing but he could try, he could
even beg if necessary.
As Charlie trudged up Sauchiehall Street looking
for the tell-tale signs that the regular dealers were about. He ignored the
people who frowned and crossed the road to avoid him. Some sneered, a few others gave a small encouraging
smile which suggested they weren’t judging him. A crowd of drunk young men poured
out of a pub by the Garage night club. One of then, a stout red faced young man
laughed and pointed at Charlie, ‘Here, check
this skinny junkie oot! Mate, you
allergic tae soap ya fuckin tramp.’ He rolled a pound coin along the ground
towards Charlie, ‘Get yerself a bath ya
clatty bastard.’ Charlie, too devoid pride to be offended, stooped to pick
the coin up. He kept walking as their laughter echoed in his ears. As he turned
down Holland Street, Charlie looked at his reflection in the rain stained glass
of a closed shop. He was dirty, thin and pale. His shoes let in the cold
Glasgow rain and his face was sunken. He looked ten years older than he was.
As he reached the corner at Bath Street he
saw a familiar face. ‘aw right Chas,’ grinned Davie in his unique gap toothed
way, ‘Where ur ye off tae?’ Charlie patted Davie on the shoulder, pleased to
see a friendly face. Davie was 2 years clean but he understood the dark roads
Charlie was walking. ‘Nae where mate, nae-where at aw, whit aboot you?’ Davie smiled again, ‘Mon get a bit of grub
then, there’s a place doon here.’ Charlie nodded, ‘Skint mate, doon tae ma last
pound.’ His friend explained that the meal was free and led him to a door at
the side of a tall steepled church. They were greeted warmly by a smiling
middle aged man who led them to a dining room without questioning their
appearance or ability to pay. ‘Have a
seat chaps and I’ll get you some tea. Fish and chips tonight is that ok?’ Charlie
nodded, ‘Aye, cheers mate.’ The room contained about a dozen tables and around
30 people sat talking quietly or eating. Charlie looked around the room. The
clients seemed mostly poor people, perhaps homeless, certainly hungry. A few
men and women moved between the tables collecting dishes, delivering food and
tea, smiling. Charlie had missed that, people simply smiling at him. A tall man
in a nice suit was talking to two men at the next table. Charlie recognised one
of the men from the drug scene. He had the same haunted, hollow look Charlie
had seen in the glass window of the shop when he had looked at his reflection.
After a few minutes their food and tea arrived and it instantly warmed Charlie.
He hadn’t eaten at all that day. He smiled at Davie, ‘Thanks for showing me
this place Davie, need a wee feed.’ Davie nodded, ‘Good people here Charlie,
they don’t judge ye.’
Just as Charlie was finishing his food the
tall, slim man with the nice suit approached their table. ‘How are we tonight
lads?’ Davie smiled, ‘Good, pal, glad tae get in oot the rain.’ The man then
smiled at Charlie, ‘Not seen you in here
before friend?’ Charlie, who was nervous around strangers and acutely aware
of his bedraggled appearance didn’t look up from his tea cup,’ ‘First time the night mate. Appreciate the
grub.’ The man touched Charlie’s
hand, ‘Good, plenty more where that came
from, you eat up pal.’ Charlie was encouraged by the man’s seemingly
genuine warmth and looked up, ‘It’s good
of you folk tae dae this.’ The man smiled, ‘Listen pal, I’m lucky, got a nice house, warm clothes and a lovely
family. Some folk haven’t got that so this is the least we can do.’ Charlie
nodded, ‘Thanks anyway.’ A voice
further down the room called out, ‘Van’s
ready Tam,’ and the tall man answered, ‘With
you in a minute.’ He stood and looked at Davie and Charlie, ‘Don’t you two rush off, I’ll be back in a
couple of hours for a gab!’ With that he smiled and turned and wandered out
of a door at the back of the room.
Charlie took a long sip of his tea, feeling
its warmth spread through him. ‘Nice guy
that,’ he said to Davie. Davie smiled and nodded, ‘Ye no recognise him then?’ Charlie shook his head, ‘I’m that spaced oot a widnea recognise the
Queen if she served me ma tea.’ Davie nodded and let the topic drop. The
two friends enjoyed the warmth and acceptance they found that night in the church
centre. As they talked quietly, Davie avoided asking Charlie if he’d try again
to go clean. He knew his old friend had reached the bottom and he also knew
that Charlie was aware of the choices facing him. Outside they heard a scream,
as some other addict struggled with his demons. Soothing voices calmed him and
the noise abated. Davie looked at Charlie, he didn’t have to speak; his friend
knew he wanted him to quit the drugs for good.
The friends parted with a smile outside the
church centre. Davie headed back to his hostel and Charlie back towards
Sauchiehall Street. To what, he wasn’t quite sure. The rain had stopped and but
the bitter wind chilled him to the bone. He wandered aimlessly around the city
centre until a voice called him, ‘Here
pal, come and get a cup of tea,’ Charlie turned, unsure where the voice had
come from. It had emanated from a large van parked by the side of the road.
Three men were serving soup and tea to any who requested it and a small group
huddled around the van. Charlie saw one of the men was the guy he had met at
the church centre. He took the warm cup from him as the man smiled, ‘The centre shut now? That’ll warm you up, it’s still freezing out
there!’ Charlie shivered and returned his smile, ‘Thanks Pal, I didnea catch yer name earlier?’ The man extended a strong handshake, ‘It’s Tam, Tam Burns.’ Charlie shook his
hand. ‘I’m Charlie, thanks for the tea
Tam.’ Charlie felt he knew this guy
from somewhere but his mind was confused, still he’s a decent guy he thought,
whoever he is.
Later as Charlie wandered through George
Square, the Christmas lights glistening and reflecting in the puddles, he thought
of the events of the day. There were some decent folk left perhaps he should
try one last time to give up this lifestyle which has slowly killing him? He looked at the glittering decorations around
the Square. ‘Yon guy wi the soup has mer
tae dae wi Christmas than aw this crap,’ he said to himself. He turned and
wandered off into the darkness, determined to try again.
God Bless Tommy Burns
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