David Peace - GB84

Monday 27 August — Sunday 2 September 1984

Jennifer puts on her shades. She runs her hands through her blonde hair and ties it back. She scowls at Neil Fontaine. She sticks out her tongue –

She says, ‘You want a fucking picture, do you?’

Neil Fontaine gets up from the edge of the bed. The notebook still in his hand. The years in pieces on the floor. He opens the dawn curtain –

Jennifer slams the hotel door as she leaves –

Neil stood at the window. In the real light and the electric –

The very last moment like this.

The Jew isn’t sleeping nowadays, either. He is too fearful of what the future holds. He doesn’t wait for the doorman or Neil. He opens the back door of the Mercedes himself. He slams it shut –

‘Downing Street,’ he shouts.

‘Certainly, sir.’

The Jew slumps in the backseat. The Prime Minister has cut short her holiday. The Prime Minister has cancelled her trip to the Far East due to the industrial situation. The Jew is embarrassed. The Jew shakes his head. He wants to hammer nails into coffins. He mumbles on about the danger in the docks. The TUC. The weak sisters of the Board. Bent nails and empty coffins –

‘— I told her go. Leave everything to me. But those lascivious leeches begged to differ. Margaret, Margaret, you can’t leave us. You mustn’t leave us. Sterling is slipping, our shares are sliding, our ship is sinking. That’s all they can ever think about, Neil. Feeding their own fat faces. Saving their own sorry selves. They have no conception, Neil. No conception whatsoever of the Big Picture. The War —’

The Jew is wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday.

‘Two steps forward,’ the Jew says to himself. ‘One step back.’

Neil Fontaine stops at the end of Downing Street –

The Jew sighs.

Neil Fontaine opens the back door for the Jew. Neil says, ‘Good luck, sir.’

The Jew stops. He looks at Neil Fontaine. He says, ‘Thank you, Neil.’

Neil Fontaine watches the Jew disappear into Downing Street –

The Total War Cabinet.

He starts the car. He has his own steps to take –

Backwards and forwards.

Roger Vaughan drops three sugar lumps into his cup. He picks up the teaspoon. He stirs his coffee. He takes the spoon out of the cup. He knocks it twice against the rim. He puts the silver spoon down on the saucer. He looks across the table at Neil Fontaine –

Neil Fontaine is waiting.

‘Fortunately,’ says Roger, ‘it would appear all our troubles will soon be over.’

Neil Fontaine is still waiting.

Roger Vaughan lifts up his napkin. He pushes the envelope across the cloth.

Neil Fontaine opens the envelope. He stares at the photo inside –

‘He’s been watching you,’ says Roger. ‘Listening to you. Both of you.’

Neil Fontaine starts to speak. To protest and to lie. To beg and to plead –

‘There’s no need for that,’ says Roger. ‘It’s a blessing in disguise.’

Neil Fontaine looks down at the tablecloth. He closes his eyes –

There are mountains of skulls. Boxes of candles –

‘He’s waiting for you,’ says Roger Vaughan. ‘Expecting you.’

There were bandages upon the floor. Two small balls of cotton wool. Blood upon the blades. Blood upon his fingers. Malcolm opened the box. Twocassettesinside –

He took out the second cassette. Tape 2. He put it in the recorder. Side A –

He pressed fast-forward. Stop. He adjusted the tone. He lowered the volume –

Pressed play and played it all back (one last time) –

‘— no, please, no, please, no, please —’

‘— in here, that what you want —’

‘— please, no, it’s at the cottage at Llanymynech —’

‘— shut up, it’s too late —’

‘— please don’t, it’s at the cottage, please don’t, in the cottage, no —’

‘— too late!’ screamed Julius Schaub. ‘Too late!’

‘—’

Malcolm lay on the floor between the bed and the door. In the spots of blood. Head to the left again. In a pool of blood. His wounds to the floor. In the seaof blood –

These nights across the world. The shadows everywhere.

Malcolm lay on the floor covered in blood. Between the bed and the door –

He wished for day and he wished for light –

Head to the floor. In 1984. The knock upon the door –

Malcolm stood up. Malcolm listened –

The sounds of the animal kingdom filled the room. The knock on the door again.

Malcolm walked over to the door. Malcolm touched the Emergency Procedures –

Malcolm Morris wiped his eyes. Malcolm Morris asked, ‘Who is it?’

‘Room service.’

Between the bed and the door. In the shadows. In the night –

How he wished for day and wished for light.

It is the hour before dawn. Neil Fontaine parks at the junction of Gate House Lane and Mosham Road. To the left is Finningley Airfield (disused). To the right Auckley Common. Doncaster straight ahead. The Jew sits in the back with his army binoculars. He is dressed in combat fatigues. He is wearing his aviator sunglasses.

Neil Fontaine sees the headlights approach. He says, ‘They’re coming, sir.’

The Jew raises his sunglasses. He lifts up his binoculars.

Four sets of headlights come down Gate House Lane from the airfield.

The Jew watches them through his binoculars.

Four trucks turn left and head down the Mosham Road towards Doncaster.

Neil Fontaine starts the car.

‘Most impressive‚’ shouts the Jew from the back. ‘Most impressive indeed, Neil.’

The Mercedes follows the four trucks. Their brake lights in the grey light –

The Mercedes loses sight of the lights in Doncaster. For now –

Neil Fontaine parks close to Rossington Colliery. The Jew with his binoculars. There are no scabs at Rossington. No scabs as yet. Just six pickets and a cardboard sign. Two policemen in their car. Neil Fontaine looks at his watch. He taps it –

Bentley. Hatfield. Armthorpe –

Neil Fontaine turns to the Jew in the back. He says, ‘Any minute now, sir.’

The Jew takes off his sunglasses. He sits up. He looks through his binoculars.

Neil Fontaine looks at his watch again. He taps it again.

‘Here they come,’ says the Jew. ‘Here they come, Neil.’

Neil Fontaine watches the pickets stand. The policemen get out of their car –

Neil turns to see the four trucks hurtle up the road and through the gates.

The pickets and the police run towards the trucks, then stop –

Pit managers come out of their offices, then back off –

Everybody staring, staring at the trucks –

The fifty men disembarking at the sound of a whistle –

Fifty men in camouflage jackets, boiler suits and balaclavas –

Fifty men with pick-axe handles, their leader in a baseball cap and sunglasses –

Fifty men setting about the yard at the sound of the leader’s second whistle.

Neil Fontaine looks at his watch. He taps it. He looks at the Jew in the mirror –

The Jew watching through his binoculars from the backseat of the car –

Fifty men taking out the security cameras, the windows of the offices –

The cars and vehicles belonging to the NCB and their staff.

Neil Fontaine looks at his watch. He taps it. He looks up at the two policemen –

They are still hiding behind their car doors, still shouting into their radios.

There is the third sound of the whistle –

The men form columns. The men board the trucks. The first three trucks leave.