David Peace - GB84

Car park.

Go, go, go —

Reception. Register. Key. Twin room for one night.

Go, go –

Lift. Corridor. Door. Key. Door open. Room.

Go —

Bed stripped. Linen in the bath. Cases open. Floor plans out. Headphones on —

Malcolm looked at his watch.

Go. Door. Corridor. Keys out. Inside —

Malcolm looked at his watch.

Plant one. Plant two. Plant three. Plant four —

Grid one in place. Test signal to first receiver. Check —

Malcolm looked at his watch.

Plant five. Plant six. Plant seven. Plant eight –

Grid two in place. Test signal to second receiver. Check —

Malcolm looked at his watch.

Toilet –

Plant nine. Plant ten —

Ante-room —

Plant eleven. Plant twelve —

Grid three in place. Test signal to third receiver. Check –

Malcolm looked at his watch.

Outside. Corridor —

Plant thirteen. Plant fourteen. Plant fifteen. Plant sixteen —

Grid four in place. Test signal to fourth receiver. Check —

Malcolm looked at his watch.

Go out —

Out, out, out —

Past the Board and the Union in the corridor. Room service —

‘I would not trust him if he told me the time of day.’

And Malcolm Morris was gone –

Back to their twin room. Cole with the cases open. Headphones on. Thumb up —

Tapes turning. Static. Recording –

The sounds of bags being unpacked. Chairs scraping. Voices:

‘— just at the outset, that the train leaves at —’

‘— kindly address all your questions to the President —’

Silence. Static –

Malcolm touched his headphones. Watched dials. Checked levels. Equipment —

For ten minutes. Static. Silence. Then:

‘— our membership, we ask for the withdrawal of pit closures and job losses —’

‘— nope.’

Chairs scraped. Bags packed. Doors opened. Slammed shut —

Static. Silence. Tapes ending —

Silence.

Cole looked at Malcolm. Malcolm looked at Cole. They shrugged their shoulders. Tookoff their headphones. Packed their bags—

Boxed tapes for drop boxes. Cole the cleaner for today. Malcolm off the clock –

He drove home. Radio off. Silence. He put the car in the garage. He went inside —

The house quiet, but not quiet enough.

Malcolm drew the curtains. He sat down on the sofa. He rolled two large pieces of cotton wool into two small balls. Placed them deep inside his ears. Hewrapped his headin bandages. Heclosed his eyes –

Silence. Sleep. Dreamless sleep. Silent sleep —

Dull sleep. Dying sleep. Dying silence. Dull noise —

The telephone ringing –

Malcolm Morris opened his eyes. He unwrapped the bandages. Took out the cotton-wool balls.

He pressed buttons. Picked up the telephone —

‘Late night?’ asked Roger Vaughan.

Malcolm sat up. He double-checked —

The wheels were turning. Wheels within wheels. The tapes recording.

Malcolm said, ‘Aren’t they all?’

‘We’ve got a shopping list for you.’

‘How many?’

‘Watches, not radios,’ said Roger. ‘Two, if you have them?’

‘Presents, are they?’

‘Birthday.’

‘What colour wrapping-paper do you want?’

‘Green.’

‘For when?’

‘As soon as you can.’

‘I’ll be in touch.’

‘Good man,’ said Roger. ‘Jerry and I will be waiting.’

Malcolm hung up. He stopped the recording. Pressed rewind. Stop. Play —

He listened again. Pressed stop again. Rewind. Stop –

Malcolm took out the tape. He found a case and wrote on the tape and its box —

RVPSN/MM/150684.

He put it somewhere safe.

Malcolm looked at his watch. He looked at the alarm clock. They were both fast —

He washed and shaved. Dressed. Made two cups of instant coffee. He ate cereal. Toast and marmalade. He drank the other cup of coffee. He put on a tie. Picked up his briefcase. His car keys. He locked the house. Backed the car outof the garage. Helocked the garage. Drove to work —

Harrogate to Sheffield.

He sat at his desk. He drank instant coffee. He smoked duty-free cigarettes –

And Malcolm Morris listened –

His hands over his ears. His headphones. Eyes closed. Head splitting —

Every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every month —

He heard it. Heard it coming. Coming near. Nearer and nearer. Now –

The traffic erupting. The dials turning. The levels rising. Deafening –

Noise.

Something was happening. Happening again. Happening near. Happening now –

The wheels turning. The tapes recording –

Death –

A Kellingley picket crushed to death by a lorry at Ferrybridge power station —

Silence.

The Jew has got his reward. The Jew has an office in Hobart House –

Full steam ahead with the legal actions. Individual legal actions. No more talks –

Except of victory.

Neil Fontaine carries the boxes up from the Mercedes. He sets them down on the office carpet –

Derbyshire. Lancashire. North Wales. Notts.

The Jew’s secretary takes the files from the boxes. She puts them in the cabinets. Chloe is new. Black. Beautiful. She started today.

A man in an overall is unscrewing a name-plate from the door. It is old. Finished.

Men in suits pace the corridors. They scowl. They slam their office doors –

The Jew doesn’t care. The Chairman doesn’t care –

The Chairman is an American. From Glasgow.

The Jew wants to be an American, too. From Suffolk.

They get on like a house on fire, the Chairman and the Jew –

They love Capitalism and Opportunity. They hate Communism and Dependency. The Freedom of Cash versus the Slavery of Coin –

The United States of Free Enterprise.

The Jew spins round in his new leather chair –

A house on fire.

It will be dark when the Jew and Neil Fontaine begin the drive North –

The world asleep.

The Yorkshire Miners’ Demonstration and Gala Day, Thornes Park, Wakefield —

In the Year of the Strike to Save Pits and Jobs.

Malcolm Morris marched from Wakefield city centre —

Behind the brass bands and the branch banners. The families and their friends. Thekids with their stickers. Their mumsin their T-shirts –

Women Against Pit Closures.

He followed the miners and the majorettes down to the park –

Sunshine and skin; beer tents and boxing rings; side-shows and singing.

This year’s Coal Queen contest had been cancelled. Just the fancy dress —

First prize to Dusty Bin (for putting scabs in); Maggie got fourth —

‘— Out. Out. Out. Maggie. Maggie. Maggie. Out. Out. Out —’

There must have been a thousand plainclothes police and security personnel here. Everywhere Malcolm looked; wearing wires; talking into their collars and their cuffs —

Just like Malcolm –

Malcolm stood in the marquee. Pressing buttons. Making tapes. Recording —