David Peace - GB84

They appeal for peace. For quiet. For their secret talks to be kept secret.

The Jew calls the Chairman. The Jew tells the Chairman, ‘Forget it. Fuck him –

‘Fuck them all.’

The Jew hangs up. The Jew is disappointed. The Jew is jealous –

The Board and the Union are still on speaking terms –

Still, still, still talking, talking, talking –

The Jew will soon put a stop to that.

*

The gentlemen from the media had chased them the length and breadth of the country, North to South, East to West. Keystone Kops on the trail of the Chairman’s Daimler and the President’s Rover –

Edinburgh to Selby –

The Chairman and the President had appeared side by side, shoulder to shoulder, on the steps of the Monk Fryston Hotel to plead with the media to leave them alone –

Then it had been back down the back roads in the dead of night –

Selby down to London; London back up to Doncaster –

The offices of British Ropes in Doncaster –

For more warm bottles of water. More cups of tea. More stale ham sandwiches. More margarine stains. Shirtsleeves and stubble. Sweat and bad breath –

So near –

Terry Winters looked at his watch. Half-past one in the morning –

The hour was late. The paper was on the table. The deal there to be done –

So near and yet so –

Under the bright strip lights, the President and the Chairman rubbed their eyes. The heating hummed, Dick and Tommy from the Board’s eyes closed –

Paul and Ted from the Board went out to get more coffees.

‘Perhaps we should all sleep on it?’ said Terry. ‘Meet again on Friday?’

The President and the Chairman looked across the table at each other –

So near and yet so far –

It was agreed to meet again. On Friday. In London.

Terry tapped Dick on the shoulder. Dick wiped the spit from his collar.

Paul and Ted came back with the coffees. Paul said, ‘What’s going on?’

‘It’s too late,’ the President told him. ‘Meeting again on Friday.’

Paul slammed down the coffees. Paul looked at Terry –

So near and yet so far; too near and not far enough for some.

*

‘All that is needed for evil to triumph’, announces the Jew for the hundredth time today, ‘is that good men do nothing.’

The Jew has raised five hundred thousand pounds to make sure evil does not triumph –

That good men do something. Those good men like the Jew –

From out of the shadows, the Good Jew steps again.

His themes for this week are the deterioration in a number of coal faces and the acceleration in the number of new faces; 177 this week –

The resistance of the cell versus the rule of the mob; the subtext –

There is work for those who want to work. But for how much longer?

From out of the shadows, Neil drives the Jew again –

The Jew has chosen the Social Democratic Party Conference for this moment –

The Jew has had Neil Fontaine bus them in to the Buxton Pavilion, Derbyshire.

‘Gentlemen of the Fourth Estate,’ says the Jew, ‘may I proudly present to you the one and only National Working Miners’ Committee —’

The Jew applauds alone as the four public faces of the NWMC emerge –

From out of the shadows –

Nervous in their old boots and new suits, shaved and groomed for the cameras, the NWMC might well be four hired taxi-drivers on wedding or funeral duty.

The Jew puts a hand on Fred’s back. The Jew grips Jimmy’s shoulder. He says, ‘These brave men are but a few of the many brave men who are on the front line, fighting for what they believe in. These men need to know they are not alone –

‘These men need to know they have friends. New friends –

‘For their president stands before the trade union movement and claims he is striking for the right to work. Ladies and gentlemen, fifty thousand of his own members are working for the right to work. Working and fighting against that dictator and his stormtroopers, those thugs and those bullies who would attempt to deny ordinary men and their families the right to work through violence and through intimidation –

‘For those who want to work, we salute and support you!’

Neil Fontaine watches from the wings as the hacks in their packs lap it all up –

The Jew in full flight. The Jew says, ‘Fred?’

Fred Wallace stands up. Fred unfolds his piece of damp paper. He reads from it: ‘The National Working Miners’ Committee is a genuinely national committee from Wales, Derbyshire, Lancashire, Staffordshire, Warwickshire, Yorkshire and Nottingham. The committee is financed by collections at working pits and by contributions from ordinary members of the public sent in response to advertisements placed in the national press. The committee has shunned offers of help from big business and even from Conservative miners.

‘Our legal constitution states that our aims are: a) to ensure that the NUM and its constituent areas are controlled by and for the membership and to protect the democratic processes of the Union; and b) to ensure the legal rights of all members of the Union and their relatives and dependants, and to protect them from or compensate them for any loss arising from the abuse of such rights.’

Fred Wallace folds his piece of damp paper back in two. Fred sits down again.

The Jew back on his feet. The Jew says, ‘Jimmy?’

Jimmy Hearn stands up. Jimmy straightens his brand-new tie. He smiles. He says, ‘My name is James Hearn. I’m from Lea Hall Colliery. Believe it or not, I voted to strike. However, the majority of men at our pit voted to work and I must respect that decision, because that is their wish. I am here today to defend that democratic decision against the bully-boys and the hit squads, the baseball bats and the jackboots of the Yorkshire Mafia that have terrified our children and our wives on the streets of our villages and our towns. I am here today to say to you, and to say to them, enough is enough.’

Jimmy Hearn loosens his tie. Jimmy sits back down.

The Jew applauds. The Jew says, ‘There are thousands of men like Jimmy across this country. There are thousands more desperate to join him. Now they can –

‘The National Working Miners’ Committee will finance any miner who wishes to enforce his right to work and who is in need of help. Call us today –

‘Not tomorrow. Not the day after. Today!’

The Jew puts a hand on Fred again. He grips Jimmy’s shoulder again. He says, ‘The next President of the NUM could very well emerge from the membership of the National Working Miners’ Committee, and it is most unlikely that he will have to wait for the present holder of that office to retire.’

In the shadows, Neil Fontaine watches –

Neil Fontaine waits –

In the shadows, the bloody shadows.

The Mechanic drives the JCB off the road. Up the side of the garage. Through the yard at the back. There is a lot of spare land behind the wrecks and the parts. It is ideal. The Mechanic starts to dig. To set the metal teeth into the ground. To turn the earth. To scoop it out into the digger’s mouth. To pile it up on the side. In mounds. The Mechanic cuts the engine. He jumps down from the seat. He stands at the edge. He looks down into the fresh pit. He smells the dirt. Tastes it. The Mechanic goes back through the yard to the garage. He opens the door of the Cortina. He drives it out of the back of the garage. Through the yard. The Mechanic stops by the pit. He keeps the handbrakeoff. He gets out. He rolls the car forward with one hand on the steering wheel. The front tyres go over the edge. The car rests on its chassis on the edge. The Mechanic gets back into the digger. He uses the machine to nudge the car into the pit. The car tips over the edge. It lands on the bottom. The Mechanic starts to move the mounds of earth –