After leaving Shamens store one afternoon, I was accosted by Popeye who had been sitting on the bench with a couple of his mates.
"Yorky mate!", he said as he walked up to me. "Yah got a smoke mate?"
"No mate, I left mi tobacco in the room."
"No worries mate, I'll walk up to Gilltraps with you. I haven't had a smoke all day."
I found it hard to refuse Popeye a smoke as I wouldn't like to be without one miself.
Once I got to Traps, I said to Popeye,
"Wait here, on the pavement, outside mi window. I'll pass one out for ya."
"No worries boss. Hurry up will ya!"
"Jesus Popeye, I don't mind givin' ya a smoke but steady on with the demands mate!"
"Yeah, right. Don't be long will ya'."
Popeye was a very simple man who was not hard to read. He probably thought that once in mi room, I'd close the curtains and forget about him. Sitting on mi bed, I rolled a couple of smokes. Before I had a chance to pass one out the window, there was a knock on the door.
"Who is it?", I yelled. No answer.
Opening the door, my suspicion was confirmed. There stood Popeye with a painful grin on his face.
"I thought ya forgot about me mate."
"Are you fucking kidding? You won't let me forget about ya!"
"Ya got that smoke boss?"
"Come in for fucks sake before Cath Gilltrap sees ya or you'll get me in the shit. By the way Popeye, I'm not ya fuckin' Boss!
"Yeah, I know mate. Ya got the smoke?"
Soon as I handed him him the rolly, he said,
"Where's the 'Rochmans'?"
"I don't have any Rothmans. I don't smoke tailor-mades. If ya don't like it, give it back. I'll smoke it."
"I suppose it'll do.", he said . "Ya got a light?"
"Jesus Popeye, Is there anything else I can git ya while I'm at it?"
"How about 50 cents mate?"
Just then, I heard mi mothers voice come out of me and say to Popeye,
"You think money grows on trees? I'm not bloody Rothchilds, ya know."
"Who's Rothchild?", said Popeye. "Is he a 'lation of 'Rochmans?"
"No mate, he's a multi-millionaire?"
"Oh, another white fella' eh?"
I must admit, this little interchange with Popeye made me laugh.
"What's funny mate? I wish I was a millionaire."
"And what would you do if ya had a million bucks Popeye?"
"I'd buy Gilltraps and fill it up with Plonk and 'Rochmans. Then I'd kick out all the white fellas and fill it up with black fellas'.
"So, you wouldn't let me in for a beer mate?"
"Yeah, you can come in for a beer mate but I wouldn't let War Dog in."
"Why not mate? Don't ya like War Dog?"
"No!"
"How come?"
"He's a cranky bastard when he's got too many beers in him."
"So why would ya let me in Popeye? I'm a white fella."
"Yeah, but you're a pommy, that's different. And you're mi mate!"
I felt a small lump growing in mi throat as Popeye revealed his true feeling to me, so I immediately changed the conversation. At some point, there was a tapping on the window. I got up, opened the window and pulled the lace curtains back. Standing outside on the pavement were two young, half-cast Abbo girls. There were the same 2 girls who I'd spoken to, many times before,
"What d'ya want?", I asked, as they looked around nervously.
"Ya got a smoke mate?", asked the prettier one of the two.
"What's in it for me?", I asked.
"Nothin' mate.", said her friend. "We just want a smoke. You're Popeyes' mate arent' ya?
Before I could answer, Popeye, who had heard his name being used, pushed me to the side and stuck his head out the window,
"What do you two want?, he said.
"What are you doing in Gilltraps rooms?", said one of the girls. "If Gilltrap catches ya, he'll call the cops on ya mate."
"I'm a guest.", said Popeye, with an air of authority.
"Give us a smoke mate."
"I haven't got any smokes.", said Popeye.
"What about plonk? Ya got any plonk?"
"I haven't got any plonk either."
"What about that white fella? I'll bet he's got smokes and plonk."
"He hasn't got any. You better go before the Sargeant sees ya hangin' around outside here."
"Fuck you Popeye.", said the not so pretty one. "Let's go mate.", she said to her friend and took off down the street.
"Pull ya head in before ya git me in the shit mate." I said.
"How do those two young Ginns know ya live here mate?", asked Popeye.
"I've had a bit a' fun with 'em before and now they keep coming back."
"Yeah, you'll never get rid of 'em, now they know you're a millionaire mate."
"Do you know 'em Popeye?"
"Yeah, they're mi second cousins. They live out at the Mission."
"Ya think there's any chance of me gettin' a root off the pretty one?"
"I don't know mate but the fat, ugly one roots."
"Fuck that for a joke Popeye. I'm not that desperate mate."
"I can ask her for ya, next time I see her."
"Ya wanna' go and ask her now mate?"
"50 cents and I'll go now."
"25 cents and ya got a deal Popeye."
"No mate, 50 cents or no deal."
"Alright, 50 cents and I'll give it when ya get back and don't take all day!"
15 minutes later, Popeye was knocking on mi door again.
"Come in mate. Shut the door. How'd ya go?"
"Where's mi 50 cents?"
Once Popeye had the money in his hand, he said,
"The best one said she doesn't go out with white fellas' and the fat ugly one said she'd give ya a root for a half-flagon and a packet of 'Rochmans'."
"Fuck that for a joke mate, I'm not that hard up."
"Yeah.", said Popeye. "She's not the best lookin' Ginn on the Mission but a roots' a root mate."
Popeye had a bit of a giggle at his little joke and proceeded to bite me for another smoke.
"Fuckin' hell Popeye, I just gave ya 50 cents. Why don't ya go and buy a pack?"
"Can't do that mate. The 50 cents is for a drink and it's easier to bite you white fellas for a smoke than the money for a drink."
After another giggle from Popeye, I said to him,
"Ya seem a bit happier today mate."
"I am mate."
"How come?"
"Mi missus is in the lock-up for 24 hours."
"What happened?"
"She got full mate and tried to get a drink at Twitcheys' place and he refused to serve her."
"Why, because she was full?"
"No mate, Twitchey won't serve Black Fellas', so he told her to fuck off and get the fuck out of his hotel."
"What happened then?"
"She told him to git fucked and called him a white, mongrel-bred bastard and refused to leave so
Twitchey called the Sarg and he drove down to the hotel and dragged her out and then threw her in the back of the Bull Wagon."
"Yah think she's all right mate?"
"Yeah, she's been in the lock-up more times than me!"
"Aren't ya worried about her?"
"Not likely. If she wasn't locked up and she knew I had 50 cents, she'd have taken it off me by now."
"Why d'ya let her do that Popeye?"
"I told ya before mate, she's bigger than me. She waits till I'm full a' plonk and then she knocks me arse over head!"
"Jesus, what a fuckin' life Popeye!"
"Oh well, it's not too bad mate. Anyway, there's not much I can do to change it 'cause I'm a black fella."
Popeye got up off the bed and headed for the door.
"Where ya off to now mate?", I asked.
"The bar for a couple of plonks!"
