David Peace - GB84

Monday 7 — Sunday 13 May 1984

Bill Reed and the President went way back. Bill Reed knew the President from Woolley. Bill Reed knew the President from Barnsley. Bill Reed had been the President’s candidate. Bill Reed had got the job. Now Bill Reed edited the Miner, the Union’s paper.

Bill Reed put down his cup. Bill Reed said, ‘Think it’s fair? Us donating our salary to the hardship fund? I’m not on strike. I’m working twenty-four hours a day, me.’

‘What do you want, Comrade?’ said Terry.

Bill Reed nodded. Bill Reed said, ‘This contact of mine, very well placed. Remember he told me they’d got someone inside Huddersfield Road?’

Terry said nothing. He stirred his coffee –

Anticlockwise.

Bill Reed leant across the table. Bill Reed said, ‘I know who it is, Comrade.’

Terry stopped stirring his coffee. He put the spoon on the saucer.

‘Did my homework on this feller at Manton,’ said Bill Reed. ‘Feller who’s organized the vote down there. This Don Colby?’

Terry took a sip from his coffee. He put the cup back down. He shook his head.

Bill Reed smiled. Bill Reed said, ‘Turns out you and Don have a mutual friend.’

Terry said nothing. Terry waited –

Bill Reed smiled. Bill Reed said, ‘Clive Cook.’

*

She had got the Jew and Neil Fontaine on a private flight up to Prestwick. Not Glasgow. Her car was there to meet them. Drive them straight to Motherwell –

Neil Fontaine sat in the front with the driver. The Jew in the back with the Brass. The Strathclyde Brass briefed the Jew about the day’s events at Ravenscraig. The Craig. The events at Hunterston –

The lorries. The horses. The injuries. The arrests. The photographs. The numbers.

The Brass told the Jew one thousand pickets had already gathered at Hunterston –

The Jew rubbed his hands. The Jew wanted to be where the action was –

And the action was now steel –

Steel, the New Battlefield.

The Jew watched the horses charge. The pickets fall or fly –

The Jew applauded. The Jew thanked the Brass. The Jew had seen enough. It was home time –

Neil Fontaine opens his eyes. He watches the lights come up from down below. Nothing too good for her friends. Private night flight back: Prestwick to East Midlands. The Jew in the cockpit. The Jew in the co-pilot’s seat. The Jew waving his licence about. The Jew with his hands on the controls. Neil Fontaine with his stomach in his mouth. Touchdown. More applause. Handshakes. Another private car waiting on the tarmac –

Nothing too good for her friends –

Nothing too good for his friends either; the Jew’s new friends:

The link-up of friendship.

The Jew has hired the upstairs room of a modern pub –

The Green Dragon. Oxton. The middle of nowhere.

The Jew has laid on beer and sandwiches. The men arrive in dribs and drabs. They shuffle in. They stand in the corners. They drink heavily –

They don’t touch the sandwiches.

The Jew moves from man to man. The Jew introduces man to man –

Fred, this is Don. Don, this is Fred. Fred is from Pye Hill. Don is from Manton. Fred, this is Jimmy. Jimmy, this is Fred. Fred is from Pye Hill. Jimmy is from Lea Hall –

Jimmy, this is –

The link-up of friendship.

They form small groups. They stand in the corners. They drink heavily –

They don’t touch the sandwiches.

They whisper about this branch and that branch. Behind their hands about this secretary and that secretary. Under their breath about this solicitor. That solicitor –

They stand in the corners and talk about right and wrong. They drink heavily –

They don’t touch the sandwiches.

They are the Nottingham Working Miners’ Committee — The Secret Nottingham Working Miners’ Committee.

*

Terry called Clive Cook from a payphone. Terry spoke in code. Terry set it up –

Dawn. Woolley Edge Services.

Terry was early. Clive was late –

Clive got out of his car. Clive wore sunglasses. Clive crossed the car park –

Clive said, ‘I don’t think I can take much more of this, Comrade.’

‘Get in,’ said Terry. ‘You might not have to.’

Terry drove down little roads and little lanes. Terry drove to Bretton Park –

Down by the lake, they sat down. Terry said, ‘Bill Reed called me.’

‘How very unpleasant for you,’ said Clive.

Terry grabbed Clive by his coat. Terry said, ‘For you actually, Comrade.’

‘What?’ said Clive. ‘What are you talking about?’

Terry pulled Clive closer. Terry whispered, ‘Bill says you’re Special Branch.’

Clive pushed Terry away. Clive swung at Terry. Clive missed Terry –

‘Fuck you!’ screamed Clive. ‘Fuck you for getting me into this, Winters!’

Terry shook his head. Terry said, ‘I’m just telling you what Bill said.’

‘You believe him,’ cried Clive. ‘You fucking believe him! You fucking —’

Terry walked over to Clive. Terry put his arms round Clive.

‘I’ve only been doing what you told me to do,’ sobbed Clive. ‘That’s all.’

Terry squeezed Clive tight. Terry said, ‘I know that, Comrade. I know —’

‘Now I’m finished,’ wept Clive. ‘Because of you and that drunk bastard.’

Terry held Clive. Terry said, ‘I’ll talk to the President for you.’

*

They lift weights. They run. They wrestle. They shower. The Brass break them into their cells. Their teams. The Brass give them photographs. Maps. The Brass give them instructions. Uniforms. The teams change into their brand-new boiler suits. They sit on their beds. They crack their knuckles. Theygrind their teeth –

The Brass give them pills. The Brass make them wait.

The Transits come as the sun sets. Ten of them. Back doors open —

The teams get into their Transits. They sit in the backs with their helmets on –

They drink. They listen to music: Ace of Spades on loud.

The Transit carrying the Mechanic and his team stops. The doors open –

The Mechanic and his men get out. They walk into the centre of town. Theycome to the Robin Hood.Theystand outside. Theygrind their teeth —

And wait.

Their targets come out. Easy to spot with their badges on. Their stickers –

They’ve had a few and all, these striking miners.

The Mechanic asks them, ‘Where you lot going, then?’

‘Home,’ the strikers tell him.

The Mechanic and his men step aside.

The strikers start up the road.

The Mechanic and his men follow them.

One striker at the back is very drunk.

The Mechanic catches him up. He pushes him. He trips him up –

Slaps him on the back of his head.

The drunken striker stops.

The Mechanic grabs him. Throws him to Team Member A –

A pushes him to B. B pushes him to C. C gives him back to the Mechanic —

The Mechanic and his men laugh. The Mechanic throws him over to A again.

The rest of the strikers are watching. One of them comes back down the road —

‘Please let him go,’ he says. ‘He’s done nothing. He’s just drunk.’

The Mechanic tears the yellow sticker off this man’s sweater. He folds the yellow sticker up –

The man just stands there, this striking miner. Just watching the Mechanic.

The Mechanic grabs this striker’s head. His hair. He twists this striker’s head —