Clive's Dog .sx I ate my sandwiches .sx Fat Clive practised his throw in the shade of the stacks .sx I didn't watch but listened to the light tappings of the darts , the bounce of the board as he pulled them out three to a fist .sx I worked my teeth into ham and cress , mustard which fired the passages of the nose and made my eyes water .sx Clive swore as a dart hit the wire .sx If you pushed him he called himself a semi-professional .sx I knew from one of the drivers that over the weekend he'd won a hundred quid and a picnic hamper .sx Fat Clive and I worked through the summer in the scaffolding yard behind the dogs' home .sx We took turns with the forklift when the long lorries from the sites backed through the gates .sx We freed rusted clips with a hammer blow and stacked the poles and cradles , the powdered lifts .sx A pole of the right length rang with a musical tone when you dropped its end onto the concrete .sx The dogs next door would be quiet for a while and then for no reason the noise would start with croons and whinings and build to a panicked howl .sx If you climbed the stacks in the angle of the yard you could see them in the wire runs outside their kennels - mostly small or medium sized dogs , ordinary and a bit measly-looking , like the people who get into those sorts of situations .sx Sometimes there'd be smoke from the tall stack of the crematorium and a smell like burnt dinner in the air .sx When Clive finished playing he removed the flights of the darts and folded them carefully into a special wallet .sx Without them the silver bodies looked helpless on his fat palm .sx He put them away in their case and then unscrewed the top of his thermos to let out the steam of stewed tea .sx " Any wins lately ?sx " I asked .sx He looked away from me into a corner of the stacks .sx The dogs were yapping and creating .sx " Nothing outstanding .sx " .sx He didn't like to talk about the game .sx Maybe he thought it was unlucky or that it took the edge off his relish for it .sx And he was a private kind of person despite occupying all that space .sx " Anything lined up ?sx " I persisted against the background of dog .sx " Coupla friendlies , " he admitted .sx I separated a half of my last sandwich and offered it to him .sx A piece of cress fell from the edge onto his knee .sx He flicked it away with his thumb and shook his head .sx " Still on the diet ?sx " .sx " Trying to lose a few stone , " he said .sx " Thought you blokes needed it for stability .sx " .sx He put his head to one side , thinking about this .sx " Only up to a point .sx After that it starts taking over .sx .. " Talking back to you , " I suggested .sx He stared over to the shadows in the stacks .sx " Yeah , that's it :sx it's like you've got somebody in there with you .sx " .sx The dogs had calmed down but now they started clamouring again .sx Clive bent over his tea , his hands clasped around the plastic mug , hiding it with those pork-sausage fingers .sx Clive rented a low ground-floor room with an iron-framed bed in one corner and a sink and cooker in the other .sx He rolled his own and used fast-food containers as ashtrays so that there was always a faint smell of take-away .sx French windows stopped with wadded newspaper and insulating tape opened on rare days of the years onto a sunken yard and the dustbins of the neighbours .sx There was the slope of a defunct rockery and then a grey-green froth of garden stretching at eye level to the chain-link fence of the railway .sx The garden was terminally untended , its plantations of thistle and ragwort rooted in packed earth with glass and broken crockery .sx Tom cats spat and fought among the dry stalks .sx Clive's place was a few streets from mine and I'd stop off with a couple of cans now and again .sx One night he started to talk about the past and told me that he'd killed someone .sx " Who ?sx " I asked .sx He pulled a face as if that wasn't a fair question .sx " Just some bloke .sx I didn't want to but he had to go .sx " Then he looked placid an thoughtful .sx He sat in the easy-chair and stared at his bare feet on the imitation sheepskin rug .sx " Wasn't he missed ?sx " .sx " No one would miss that bastard .sx " .sx " What about his family ?sx " .sx " Especially not them .sx " .sx I sipped from my lager and looked towards the french windows .sx I suppose I felt lumbered , as if he'd given me something useless and too big for the bin .sx What can you do with information like that ?sx " I thought it was all over but I've been thinking about it lately , " Clive said .sx " You could say I'm carrying it around with me .sx " He smiled to show me it was his little joke and then rolled up the front of his T-shirt to expose his belly .sx " Look , " he said .sx I played the innocent .sx " What's that ?sx " .sx " Look , " he ordered .sx I thought about pregnancy and then tried not to .sx Clive's belly sagged over the waistband of his trousers almost into his lap , distorted by its own weight as if it held a dense liquid .sx The flesh was taut and had a slight shine to it , a sheen .sx The compressed navel was like a closed eye .sx I didn't mention the murder again .sx I thought it was a private matter , personal to him .sx A couple of times he seemed on the verge of saying more but then his face would set and he'd change the subject .sx He moved wearily among the stacks , grunting and wheezing , sweating more than was natural .sx He was exhausted by the end of the long days and I could see that the flab was taking its toll .sx In the stickiest part of the summer , he acquired a dog - a black labrador cross but already old and dragging a hind-leg through rheumatism or some accident .sx It was greying at the muzzle and along the back and the angles of its rear-end were as sharp as a blade .sx The disk of a cataract gave its left eye a milky stare , a ghost look .sx Clive led it limping into the yard on a length of plastic clothes-line .sx " Won it in a game yesterday , " he said .sx " That was the prize ?sx " .sx " A side-bet .sx Won a colour TV as well .sx A portable .sx " .sx He led the dog to the shade of the stacks and squatted down to stroke the side of its head .sx The dog leaned into the fat of his palm .sx The yapping started up in the kennels beyond the chain-link , and it pushed up its nose to sample the panic on the air .sx The milk-eye swivelled with the other but gazed into itself , the sight striking back from the blank of the cataract .sx " It's old , " I told him .sx " So ?sx " .sx " They get things wrong with them at that age .sx They get all kinds of diseases .sx " .sx " The thing's better off alive than dead , " Clive said .sx He went into the offices and cadged a plastic washing-up bowl .sx He filled it at the tap and the dog lapped the water as if it was parched to the bone .sx In the hot afternoon it dozed on a strip of matting in the shade of the sheds , lying with its blind eye covered .sx The good eye watched over Clive as he worked or practised .sx The big lorries backed in from the sites and the drivers fed the dog scraps of their lunches through the afternoon .sx In Clive's room the dog lay on the imitation sheepskin and farted without a sound into the close air .sx He made another roll-up of strong Dutch tobacco and told me it had internal problems .sx His game was going well and he was talking about turning fully pro but first he needed to lose that couple of stone .sx The dog had already laid an inch of unstable fat over its bones .sx He called for me once of twice on his way to matches .sx The dog flopped full-length onto the carpet as if the half-mile walk had exhausted it .sx Clive told me he needed moral support , said he was too much the dark horse , always the fat-bastard outsider , that he'd never attracted a loyal crowd .sx " People don't appreciate the effort I make , " he complained .sx " They think it's the flab that does the throwing ; they don't know the hours I put in , refining my technique .sx " .sx The pub was in the shadow of the new cold-store .sx A big local presence was cheering for the other guy who looked an agile fifteen stone and wore a red cowboy shirt with fringes .sx Sandwiches and bite-sized sausage-rolls circulated on tin- trays with doilies and there was a half-hundred in the pot with something over that in side-bets .sx I took charge of the dog and squeezed near the bar for an unrestricted view over the cold-snacks counter .sx The animal was nervous and twitchy , because of the occasion or because it sensed the proximity of all that frozen meat .sx Clive leaned what seemed too far forward and the darts were slivers of silver between his finger and thumb .sx He waited for silence with his chin lifted .sx His face shone with concentration .sx The clatter and noise dropped for a second and he threw with hardly a movement as if the dart had strained for the board and he'd just needed to open his hand .sx He did well in a few more tournaments and was in line for the big money .sx He had his greasy hair trimmed and styled and a small symbol of crossed darts below a skull tattooed onto his left shoulder .sx It was the heyday of the dog and he led it to work on a short chain leash attached to a studded collar .sx Its limp had almost disappeared and now it began to develop territorial ambitions , lifting up its leg to squirt at corners .sx When the wailing and yapping started from the lost dogs it answered with throaty barks which hung on the air .sx I paid them a call one night .sx The french windows were open onto the bins and greenery and I saw the dog's greying arse among a clump of thistles .sx There was a snapping and commotion as it went for a scent .sx Clive was shaving in the mirror above the sink , angling the razor carefully in his big finger .sx His spotted back looked already straighter , the weight more concentrated in the shoulders .sx When he turned around I saw that he was loosing that look of stalled pregnancy .sx He pulled one of his fancy new shirts from the back of a chair .sx " Dog's happy , " I said .sx He looked proud .sx He buttoned the shirt , smiling back at himself in the mirror .sx " Yeah :sx thing'll be baying the moon next .sx " .sx I had some money saved by then .sx I thought about quitting the job and going abroad .sx I was one of the aimless and rootless .sx Clive won a tournament sponsored by the local paper and the dog died .sx I think in that order .sx He phoned me early one night and said come around and bring the van .sx The dog was ill and in pain and he thought it might have swallowed rat-poison or broken glass .sx When I arrived it was stretched out on the rug and breathing shallowly and quietly as if it was asleep .sx The gas fire was on and the room felt too hot and smelt of dog and take-away .sx When I went close I saw that its blind eye was open and staring backwards as if it was looking for something coming up from behind .sx Suddenly it pushed its legs out stiffly and hollowed its back , crooning to itself .sx Clive was sitting on the bed still in his work clothes , half rolling cigarettes and then forgetting about them , letting the strands of tobacco spill onto his lap .sx I looked up the numbers of a couple of vets and rang around .sx I could feel him looking at me and when I turned he asked , " Do you think there's an after-life for animals ?sx " .sx