David Peace - GB84

Monday 25 June — Sunday 1 July 1984

It is flesh time in the corridors and toilets of Westminster. The Jew whistles Waterloo. They pat him on the back. They shake his hand. The Jew says:

‘Four thousand men in one hundred and eighty PSUs. Forty-two mounted police. Twenty-four dog handlers. Spotters in among their men. Helicopter and military surveillance. Regiments in reserve. One hundred arrests. Countless injuries inflicted –

‘Orgreave was a battle; they are right to call it that. Because it is a war –

‘But it was a battle we won. And it is a war we shall win.

‘Our finest hour to date, gentlemen. Our very finest yet. Rugeley power station alone received one thousand and twenty-eight deliveries of coal that day and —’

The Jew stops mid-flight. The corridor has cleared –

There is a fresh hand on the Jew’s back. A word in his ear. Then the hand is gone.

The Jew rushes into the toilets. He comes out again. He’s not whistling –

He smells of vomit.

Neil Fontaine fetches the car.

Malcolm Morris drove down to London. To Hounslow. This was the place where they’d built the village. The place where they trained their divisional support groups. Their mounted police —

In Hounslow.

Malcolm found his plastic pass inside his clothes. He handed it to the officer at the metal gates. The officer took it inside a sentry hut —

Malcolm waited in the car with the radio on —

I Won’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me.

The officer came back with his pass. The gate went up. Malcolm was inside again.

He drove past the stables. The kennels. The barracks —

He could hear them banging their shields. Practising.

He turned into the village —

Pitsville, UK –

Two rows of mock-redbrick houses either side of a strip of road with an estate of mock-grey semis behind them. Malcolm watched the mounted police and the snatch squads drilling by a row of mock shops. Boarded-up shops. Charging —

NATO helmets on. Staffs drawn —

Men in donkey jackets and yellow stickers ran. Loudspeakers on street-corners barked orders. The horses stopped their charge. The horses cantered back —

The men were banging their shields again. Training.

Roger Vaughan was parked in the mock car park by the mock pub —

The Battered Ram –

Roger waiting today. Not Jerry.

Malcolm parked. He got out. Shut the car door.

Roger got out of his car. Roger said, ‘I’ve been waiting, Malcolm.’

Malcolm walked round the back of his car. He opened the boot. Took out the Slazenger holdall. He placed it on the tarmac. He closed the boot. Picked up the holdall again. He walked over to Roger. Handed him the holdall.

Roger took it. Roger said, ‘Two?’

Malcolm nodded.

Roger said, ‘Wrapped in green?’

Malcolm nodded again.

Roger took out an envelope from his coat. He handed it to Malcolm.

‘Wrapped in red, white and blue?’ asked Malcolm.

Roger smiled. Roger said, ‘There was one other small matter, Malcolm

Malcolm waited.

Roger said, ‘That business in Shrewsbury?’

Malcolm waited.

Roger said, ‘Jerry and I would be very grateful if we could have the tapes.’

‘The tapes were destroyed,’ said Malcolm.

Roger stared at him. Roger said, ‘Is that right?’

Malcolm nodded.

Roger sighed. Roger said, ‘That’s a shame, Malcolm. A very great shame.’

‘Standard procedure,’ said Malcolm. ‘In compromised operations.’

Roger said, ‘The operation in question was not subject to standard procedures.’

‘But it was compromised.’

‘In your opinion.’

Malcolm turned to go. He said, ‘I don’t like loose ends,MrVaughan.’

‘Neither do we, Malcolm,’ shouted Roger after him. ‘Neither do we,’

Malcolm turned back. He said, ‘I hopethat wasn’t a threat, Mr Vaughan?’

‘No, Malcolm,’ said Roger. ‘That wasn’t a threat.’

The Jew paces his fourth-floor suite. The Jew wants to get his show back on the road. Back to the front line. Back among his new-found friends. And foes. Fighting the good fight. The Jew is tired of the offices and the corridors of the capital. Tired of the handshakers and the backstabbers. Tired of the good news/bad news brigade –

The Jew asks Neil for another cup of tea. He says, ‘Did you speak with Frank —’

‘Fred?’ says Neil.

The Jew blinks. The Jew says, ‘Did you speak with him or not, Neil? Yes or no?’

Neil Fontaine closes the suitcase. He says, ‘Briefly.’

‘And how is life with our hero?’ asks the Jew. ‘The John Wayne of Pye Hill?’

‘He thinks the pit managers and local police are talking people out of returning —’

‘What?’ screams the Jew. ‘What? Tell me you are joking with me, Neil.’

‘To avoid bloodshed.’

The Jew throws his cup against the wall. He screams again, ‘What?’

Neil Fontaine nods.

The tea runs down the wall. The tea drips onto the carpet.

The Jew looks at Neil. The Jew shakes his head from side to side –

Neil Fontaine nods again.

‘Remember what she once said, Neil?’ asks the Jew.

Neil Fontaine waits for the words of wisdom from the wise –

‘A criminal is a criminal is a criminal,’ says the Jew. ‘Remember, Neil?’

Neil Fontaine nods now.

‘The good news?’ asks the Jew. ‘Please tell me there is good news, Neil?’

‘The strike in Lancashire is about to be ruled unofficial by Justice Caulfield up in Manchester; their delegate decisions at their area conference will be meaningless; their hands tied. The Union won’t be able to discipline members who cross picket lines; the Union won’t be able to instruct members not to cross picket lines; the Union won’t be able to call the strike or the picket lines official —’

But it is not enough —

‘There is still talk, though, of a return to court by the likes of British Rail and Steel. Rumblings at the Board, too. The Cabinet.’

The Jew nods. The Jew asks for a fresh pot of tea. The Jew picks up the phone –

The railways will stop tomorrow and certain newspapers not appear —

The Jew shouts down the phone again:

‘No, no, no. Use their own domino strategy against them. Take the individual area ballots that went against a strike and use them to beat the National Union. These actions — these actions from within — these will be the very key. The key to victory –

‘How many more times must we go over this?

‘Further action from British Rail, from British Steel, from the Board itself, will only be detrimental to the overall strategy. The nation perceives this dispute to be about the assault and intimidation of ordinary men who simply want to go to work but who are being prevented and frightened by the vicious hooligan thugs of an extra-parliamentary hard left –

‘Assault and intimidation are a matter of criminal law not industrial legislation. The individual actions by members against their own Union underline this perception –

‘OK? OK?’

The Jew throws the phone against the wall. The Jew closes his eyes –

The broken telephone lies on the damp carpet in a pool of cold tea.

Neil Fontaine puts the Jew’s suitcase and briefcase by the door. He says, ‘Sir?’