David Peace - Red or Dead

…

On the bench, the Anfield bench. Bill and thirty-eight thousand, five hundred and ninety-one folk were watching the new Liverpool Football Club play Servette Football Club of Geneva in the second leg of the First Round of the European Cup Winners’ Cup. Tommy Smith was playing and Kevin Keegan was playing. Tommy Smith injected with cortisone and Kevin Keegan injected with cortisone. In the twenty-seventh minute, Emlyn Hughes scored. And in the sixtieth minute, Steve Heighway scored. But Kevin Keegan was limping, Kevin Keegan was struggling. And in the seventy-first minute, Bill took off Kevin Keegan. And Bill sent on John Toshack. In the eightieth minute, Tommy Smith tackled Barriquand of Servette Football Club of Geneva. And Tommy Smith won the ball. But Barriquand’s studs raked down the right shin of Tommy Smith. And the referee blew his whistle. And the referee awarded a free kick to Liverpool Football Club. Tommy Smith got up. Tommy Smith took the free kick. And Tommy Smith kept on playing, Tommy Smith kept on running. But the players of Servette Football Club of Geneva were not playing. The players of Servette Football Club of Geneva were staring at the right shin of Tommy Smith and now the players of Liverpool Football Club were staring at the right shin of Tommy Smith. And Tommy Smith looked down at his right shin. His red sock. His Liverpool sock. Torn in two. The red sock. The Liverpool sock flapping loose. The support bandage and the surgical tape ripped apart. The bandage and the tape. Loose. The skin torn and the skin ripped. Loose. And red. And black. Red and black with blood and mud. Red and black. And white. White with bone. The white bone of his shin poking through the torn skin. Through the ripped skin. And now the referee was staring at the right shin of Tommy Smith. The referee white with shock. The referee blowing his whistle. Pointing to the bench, pointing to the tunnel. And in the eighty-fourth minute, Bill took off Tommy Smith. And Bill sent on Ian Ross. And the new Liverpool Football Club beat Servette Football Club of Geneva two — nil in the second leg of the First Round of the Cup Winners’ Cup. Three — two on aggregate. At home,

at Anfield. The thirty-eight thousand, five hundred and ninety-one folk had all gone home. But Tommy Smith had not gone home. And Joe Fagan had not gone home. Tommy Smith and Joe Fagan were in the treatment room at Anfield. Joe Fagan told Tommy Smith to lie down on the physio bench. Joe Fagan took off the right boot of Tommy Smith. Joe Fagan stared down at the right foot. The right shin. The right leg of Tommy Smith. And Joe Fagan shook his head –

We best wait for the doc, said Joe Fagan.

John Reid, one of the club doctors of Liverpool Football Club, came into the treatment room. John Reid looked down at the right foot. The right shin. The right leg of Tommy Smith –

That’s the worst cut I’ve ever seen outside of theatre, said John Reid. We best wait for my brother Bill to get here, Tommy.

Bill Reid, the brother of John Reid and the other club doctor at Liverpool Football Club, came into the treatment room. Bill Reid looked down at the right foot. The right shin. The right leg of Tommy Smith. And Bill Reid shook his head –

Fucking hell, Tommy.

On his back, on the bench. In pain. In the treatment room, at Anfield. In fear. Tommy Smith looked up at the two doctors –

What are you going to do, docs?

I’m going to clean it up, said John Reid. And then I’m going to try and stitch it up, Tommy.

Try? What do you mean try? Either you can or you can’t …

Well, I’m not going to lie to you, Tommy, said John Reid. It’s not going to be easy and it’s not going to be pleasant …

John Reid took out a pair of scissors. And John Reid cut away the red sock. The Liverpool sock. From the right shin of Tommy Smith. And John Reid cleaned up the right shin and the right ankle of Tommy Smith. And then John Reid took out a needle. A giant needle. And John Reid stared down at the right shin of Tommy Smith. And John Reid brought down the needle towards the right shin of Tommy Smith. But then John Reid took away the needle. John Reid wiped his brow on the back of his hand. And John Reid turned to his brother –

Go get Tommy a brandy, Bill. And go get one for me, too. A bloody large one, Bill. Bloody large ones for the both of us.

On his back, on the bench. In pain. In the treatment room, at Anfield. In fear. Tommy Smith waited for Bill Reid to return. And Bill Reid returned with two brandies. Tommy Smith declined his brandy. John Reid drank both brandies. And then John Reid picked up the needle again. The giant needle again. And John Reid stuck the giant needle into the right shin of Tommy Smith. And John Reid filled the wound in the right shin of Tommy Smith with penicillin. And then John Reid began to stitch. To try to stitch –

Have you washed your hands, John Reid asked Joe Fagan. Are they clean, Joe? Your hands?

No, doc. Not very.

Never mind. Just put your finger on the knots, Joe. So I can tighten them, will you? Put your fingers there. And keep them there.

Joe Fagan put his fingers on the knots in the stitches in the right shin of Tommy Smith. And Joe Fagan looked away from the stitches in the right shin of Tommy Smith. Joe Fagan looked up at the ceiling.

There you go, said John Reid. All done, Tommy. All done.

On the bench, in the treatment room. Tommy Smith raised himself up on his elbows. And Tommy Smith looked down at his right shin. At the stitches in his right shin. The stitches and the knots –

Are you sure that’s right, asked Tommy Smith. Those are big gaps between the stitches. There must be an inch between each stitch.

Well, I’ll pack the gaps with some more penicillin. How about I do that for you, Tommy? Will that make you feel better, Tommy?

On his back, on the bench. In the treatment room, at Anfield. Tommy Smith nodded. And Tommy Smith stared up at the ceiling.

Joe Fagan patted Tommy Smith on his shoulder –

I’ll be back in a minute, Tommy. I’ll give you a lift home.

Joe Fagan walked out of the treatment room at Anfield. And Joe Fagan saw Bill Shankly. Bill Shankly pacing up and down in the corridor outside the treatment room at Anfield –

And Bill said, How is he, Joe?

It’s bad. It’s very bad, Bill. Tommy’s going to be out for quite some time. Quite a long time, Bill …

…

In the house, in their front room. In the night and in the silence. Bill threw his book onto the carpet. His book of names, his book of notes. The names of injured players, the notes on their injuries. And in the night and in the silence. Bill cursed. And cursed again. Bill remembered when Tommy Smith had severed his kneecap against Vitoria Setúbal two seasons ago. And Bill remembered how Liverpool Football Club had struggled without Tommy Smith two seasons ago. Without his drive, without his leadership. And Bill knew Liverpool Football Club were going to struggle again. Without his drive and without his leadership. In the front room, in his chair. Bill picked up his book from the carpet. His book of names, his book of notes. Bill opened the book again. The book of names, the book of notes. The names of injured players, the notes on their injuries. Kevin Keegan was injured, too. Pains in his left foot, the bones of his left foot. But no one seemed to know how. No one seemed to know why. But in the night and in the silence. Bill knew Liverpool Football Club struggled without Kevin Keegan. Without his spark, without his fire. Bill knew Liverpool Football Club needed that spark, Bill knew Liverpool Football Club needed that fire. And in the night and in the silence. Bill was determined not to lose that spark. Bill was determined not to lose that fire. That spark and that fire. In the front room, in his chair. Bill closed his book. His book of names, his book of notes. Bill put the book down on the arm of his chair. And Bill stood up. In the night and in the silence. Bill heard Ness cough upstairs. In their bed, in her sleep. And cough again. And in the night and in the silence. Bill sat back down in his chair. And Bill coughed, too.