David Peace - GB84

Back to the Transit –

More drink. More laughs. More music: Smash It Up –

Transit stops. Bags. Tools. Padlocks. Chains. NCB Property.

Through the pit yard. Set about the offices. The windows. The doors. Anything —

They smash it up —

The Transit comes back for them as the sun rises. This tour finished.

The Transit drops the Mechanic near his mother’s house.

He picks up the dogs. Heads home. He has a shower. A drink. He lies on the bed. Their bed. He switches on the news. Switches it off again. He gets up. Into the lounge —

He puts on a record. Sade. Turns it off again. He sits on the sofa in the dawn —

The curtains shut. His eyes wide open –

The money on the table. The Polaroid —

He knows she’s hurting. Knows he is not therefor her. Knows —

*

The Chairman was ready to meet. The Chairman was not. The President ready to meet. The President not. Preconditions. No preconditions. Set agendas. No set agendas –

The talks were on. The talks were off. The talks on. The talks off –

The talks on again.

Everyone went South with the President. Everyone but Terry –

Terry left to wait by the phone. To wait for the call. The word.

Terry did his homework. Two piles of big files on his desk. One pile of accounts. One pile of actions.

The phone rang. Click-click. It was the President. The President for Terry –

The talks were off again. The Chairman was a liar. Everyone was a liar –

Terry was to chair the morning meeting. The President hung up.

Terry gathered his files. His homework. He went upstairs –

They were waiting for him. They were waiting for news –

Terry had no news. No one told him anything –

So Terry told them things they already knew –

The Board in Derbyshire had sent out personal letters to every miner in the area but just sixty men had gone back; ten thousand still on strike. Lancashire had suspended one thousand members for crossing official picket lines. The President of Kent had been remanded in custody for nine days for breach of bail conditions.

Mike Sullivan raised his hand. Mike asked, ‘Is it true a Nottinghamshire miner nailed himself to his own fucking floor in protest over the scabs at his pit?’

The phone rang. Nigel picked it up –

Click-click.

‘Tell them we’re in a meeting,’ said Terry.

Everyone laughed. Everyone but Nigel. Nigel shook his head –

It was the President. The President for Terry –

The President wanted Terry. The President needed Terry –

Now. In London –

Terry dropped the phone. Dropped everything. Left Mike in charge –

In charge of everything.

Terry caught the first train down. First class –

It was a big day. The talks were scheduled to happen –

Huge. The Nottinghamshire High Court action was set to be heard too –

Terry took a taxi to the hotel. Through the revolving doors. Up the stairs –

Enormous. Terry knocked on the door. Terry walked into the hotel room. Everyone looked at Terry. Everyone but the President and Paul. Terry looked at Joan –

Joan shook her head. Joan whispered, ‘Kent won’t lift the picket of Hobart House. The President won’t cross a picket line. The Board won’t change the venue –

‘The Prime Minister won’t let them.’

Alice Keyes picked up the phone. Click-click. She put her hand over the phone. She said, ‘President. It’s Yorkshire.’

The President took the phone from her. He said, ‘Comrade?’

Terry looked round the hotel room. People came in and people went out again. Took away cups and saucers. Brought in papers and files.

‘They’re liars,’ shouted the President into the phone. ‘Liars! Tell them, no way.’

The President hung up. The President gestured to Len Glover. Len came over. The President whispered in Len’s ear. Len walked over to Paul. Len whispered to Paul. Paul nodded. Paul got up. Paul left the room.

Alice picked up the phone again. Click-click. Put her hand over the phone again. She said, ‘President. It’s Yorkshire again.’

The President took the phone back. He said, ‘Comrade, I don’t care if their whole bloody plant goes up. They’re not having another single piece of coal from us. Not one. Not while they continue to ride roughshod over every agreement we come to.’

Joan picked up the other phone. Click-click. Joan said, ‘President. Kent —’

The President put down one phone. He picked up the other. He said, ‘Comrade?’

The dogs in the back of the car. The Mechanic takes the A1 down to Leeds. He pulls into the car park. He leaves the dogs in the back. He walks across to the transport café—

Paul Dixon is already here. The table facing the door and the car park.

The Mechanic sits down opposite Dixon.

‘Nice work, Dave,’ says Dixon. ‘People are very pleased with you.’

The Mechanic says, ‘Always nice to be appreciated, Sergeant.’

Paul Dixon puts an envelope on the table. He pushes it over to the Mechanic.

The Mechanic opens it. He smiles. ‘Very nice to be appreciated, Sergeant.’

‘Lot more where that came from,’ says Dixon. ‘Way things are going.’

The Mechanic smiles again. He says, ‘Good. I need the money.’

‘Not planning to retire to the sun again, I hope?’ asks Dixon.

The Mechanic looks up from the envelope —

Paul Dixon is staring at him. The dogs barking in the car —

‘No,’ the Mechanic says. ‘Home is where the heart is.’

Neil Fontaine lies in the dark with the curtains open. Neil Fontaine thinks about alchemy; the transmutation of base metal into gold –

He looks at his watch. He taps it. It is five-thirty in the morning –

The telephone rings.

Neil Fontaine picks it up. He listens –

‘There’s been an explosion. Major slip in one of the furnaces.’

Neil Fontaine hangs up. He looks at his watch again. Taps it. He makes two calls. Hangs up again. He takes his blazer from the wardrobe. Puts it on. He checks the windows. The corridor. He leaves the room –

Leaves Jennifer sleeping in his bed, the living and the dead.

He takes the stairs. Goes outside. He hails a cab to the garage. Gets the Mercedes. He drives to Claridge’s. Picks up the Jew.

They head North. The fast lane. The Jew on the phone.

Neil Fontaine comes off the M1 at Junction 33. Heads down Sheffield Parkway. He goes round Poplar Way. Onto Orgreave Road. Down Highfield Lane –

They are here —

Orgreave.

They park. The Jew gets out of the Mercedes. His binoculars round his neck.

Neil Fontaine leads the Jew to a concrete-roofed bus shelter. Neil Fontaine helps the Jew up. They stand on top of the bus shelter. The Jew looks through his binoculars. The Jew sweeps the landscape. The Jew can see Catcliffe and Treeton. Handsworth and Orgreave. The Jew can see the cornfields and the slag heaps. The fences and the trees. The Jew can see the River Rother and the Sheffield-Retford railway. The roadways and the motorway –

The Jew can see a white Range Rover approaching.

Neil Fontaine helps the Jew down. They walk over to meet the Range Rover.

South Yorkshire Brass gets out. Handshakes. Smiles. Nods.

The Jew leads the way. They inspect the apron where the convoys will line up. They walk across the road to the old chemical factory. This is the base of their operations. Their command post. They climb dirty stairs up to the third floor. The ladder to the roof. They walk out into the sunlight. The Jew hands the Brass his binoculars –