David Peace - GB84

Monday 14 — Sunday 20 May 1984

The set-up. The trigger effect. The wheels in motion. The chain reaction. The solution –

Neil Fontaine sets it up –

The final solution.

Waiters wheel in the trolleys. Waiters lay out the plates. Waiters serve the spirits. The Poles are hungry. The Poles take from the silver plates. The Poles drink the spirits –

The Poles are here to offer their coal.

The Poles watch Neil Fontaine pin maps to the board. The Poles watch him use red drawing-pins to mark the sites. The Poles watch Neil Fontaine introduce the Jew –

The Jew is here to accept their offer. Here to sign the blank cheque from her.

‘Gentlemen,’ says the Jew. ‘I am here to tell you all is in hand.’

But the Poles are worried about pickets. The Poles are worried about dockers.

‘Gentlemen, worry not,’ says the Jew. ‘Our intention is to avoid either foe.’

Neil Fontaine points at a red pin on the map. Stuck in the map. In Gunness.

‘Thank you, Neil,’ says the Jew. ‘This will be our secret little sanctuary.’

But the Poles ask questions about the Employment Acts. About the law –

‘Our friends in Sheffield need distractions,’ says the Jew again. ‘Not causes.’

But the Poles are still worried about the pickets. Still worried about the dockers.

‘Worry not,’ says the Jew again. ‘We have our distraction planned.’

Neil Fontaine points at another red pin on the map. Stuck in the map. Stuck in –

‘Thank you, Neil,’ says the Jew again.

The Poles offer their coal –

The Jew accepts their offer. The Jew fills in the blanks on her cheque.

The Poles are happy. The Poles clean their plates. The Poles drink toasts –

The Poles leave with the cheque and all the bottles they can carry.

Neil Fontaine looks at his watch. It’s stopped. He taps it. It’s started –

Time slips.

It stops again. It starts again –

Neil Fontaine used to love her, too.

The Jew turns to Neil with his glass raised. The Jew puts down his glass –

‘Heavens above,’ says the Jew. ‘You don’t look at all well, Neil.’

‘I’m fine, sir.’

‘Really?’ asks the Jew. ‘How are you sleeping these days?’

They lift weights in the morning sun. They run. They wrestle. They shower. The Brass break them back into their cells. Their teams. The Brass give them maps. Instructions. Fresh clothes. They change into their jeans and their boots. They sit on their beds. They crack their knuckles. They grind their teeth —

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

The Transits come as the sun sets. The Mechanic and his team sit in the back. They drink. Listen to music: White Riot loud.

The Transit stops. The Mechanic and his team get out. They walk through the centre of Mansfield. They come to the car park. They come to the coaches. They come to the bricks. The bottles. There are kids. Kids with their mums and their dads. His team pick up the bricks. The bottles. They throw the bricks. The bottles. The dads charge. Big men. Soft and drunk. Red from the sun. The Mechanic and his team charge. Big men. Hard and wired. Black from hell. There is fighting. Fists and boots. Boots and bottles. The dads go down. The Mechanic and his team stay up. Helicopters overhead. Sirens. Police car doors. Batons. His team walk away. Through the police. Back into the centre of town. Into the market place. The pubs. They buy drinks. They look for badges. They look for stickers. The Mechanic spills drinks. The Mechanic picks fights. His team take it outside. They fight. Fists and boots. Boots and bottles. The badges go down. His team stay up. Leave the badges on the pavement. In the road. The sirens come. The badges don’t give up. The badges make Sieg Heil salutes. The police beat them again. The police arrest them. The Mechanic and his men walk into the next pub and the next and the next. They look for badges. Look for stickers. Spill drinks. Pick fights. Take it outside. Fight. Fists and boots. Boots and bottles. The stickers go down. His men stay up. Leave the stickers on the pavement. The sirens come. Thestickers chant, ‘Section 5. Section 5.’ Thepolice beatthem again. Arrest them —

Breach of the Peace.

Neil Fontaine has a busy day. He drives North with the Jew. He drops the Jew in the car park of the Green Dragon. The Jew is here to meet with the Working Miners’ Committee. Neil Fontaine drives further North –

First stop Gainsborough.

Neil Fontaine looks at his watch. Taps it. Twelve noon. He takes the briefcase off the passenger seat. He gets out of the Mercedes. He walks across the forecourt towards the Portakabin –

The door opens. A middle-aged man in a suit appears –

‘Mr Parish?’ asks the man.

Neil Fontaine squints into the sun. He says, ‘Yes.’

‘Brendan Matthews,’ says the man. ‘Nice to be able to put a face to the name.’

Neil Fontaine shakes the man’s hand. He says, ‘John Parish. How do you do?’

‘How do you do?’ says Brendan Matthews. ‘Step this way.’

They walk up the white wooden steps into the Portakabin. A young woman is talking on a telephone at a school desk. They go through into Brendan Matthews’ office –

‘Can I offer you something to drink?’ asks Brendan Matthews.

Neil Fontaine raises a hand. He says, ‘I’m fine. Thank you.’

Brendan Matthews unlocks a filing cabinet. He takes out a large manila envelope. He hands it to Neil Fontaine. He says, ‘These are the photocopies of their licences.’

Neil Fontaine takes out the photocopies. He flicks through them.

‘I know you’ll obviously want to do your own checks,’ says Brendan Matthews. ‘But I’m confident these men will meet your needs.’

Neil Fontaine opens his briefcase. He asks, ‘How many are there?’

‘Fifty, as requested.’

Neil Fontaine puts the manila envelope inside his briefcase. He takes out another large envelope and fifty smaller plain brown envelopes held together with a rubber band. He hands the fifty smaller envelopes across the desk to Brendan Matthews. He says, ‘These are retainers of five hundred pounds for each man.’

‘Thank you very much,’ says Matthews.

Neil Fontaine hands him the large envelope. He says, ‘This is a deposit for the transport. The wagons are to be covered with Corporation stickers, which will be with you by the end of the week. Further payment will then be made when we are certain of the dates and the numbers. The men are to be paid in cash on a daily basis.’

‘Hundred quid a run?’ asks Matthews.

‘There and back,’ says Neil Fontaine. ‘Two runs a day with a completion bonus.’

‘That’s good money,’ says Brendan Matthews.

Neil Fontaine smiles. He says, ‘You want to give me a copy of your licence?’

‘It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Mr Parish,’ laughs Brendan Matthews.

Neil Fontaine and Brendan Matthews shake hands and say their goodbyes.

Neil Fontaine leaves Gainsborough. He drives to Scunthorpe. To Anchor –

To the furnaces. To the Queen Mary.

Neil Fontaine looks at his watch. It’s stopped. He taps it. It’s started –

Time slips, like a furnace.

It stops again. It starts again.

*

Terry felt the tide had turned. The Mansfield rally had been a magnificent occasion –

A triumph. A show of strength –

Just as Terry had planned.

Terry felt his own stock had risen. His own star back on the rise –

Yesterday, Mansfield. Today, Paris. Tomorrow, the world –