David Peace - Red or Dead

I could hear Gerry’s bones, whispered Bob. His bones, Boss. I think Gerry’s collarbone is gone. It’s gone, Boss …

His coat stuck to his jacket. His jacket stuck to his shirt. His shirt stuck to his vest. His vest stuck to his skin. Bill nodded. And Bill stared back out across the pitch, the Wembley pitch. Its damp turf, its holding turf. In the grey light now, in the slow rain now. For forty-five minutes. Forty-five dour minutes. Across the pitch, across the turf. In the grey-light and in the slow-rain. For ninety minutes. Ninety hard, hard minutes. On the Wembley pitch, on the Wembley turf. In the grey-light and in the slow-rain. Into extra time. On the damp turf, the holding turf. In the grey-light and in the slow-rain. In extra time. His coat stuck to his jacket. His jacket stuck to his shirt. His shirt stuck to his vest. His vest stuck to his skin. Bill watched Stevenson pass to Byrne. In agony and in pain. Byrne crossed to Hunt. Hunt headed the ball. And Hunt scored. In the grey-light, in the slow-rain. In the ninety-third minute. The players of Liverpool Football Club were winning. Ee-aye-addio, we’re going to win the Cup . And the supporters of Liverpool Football Club were singing. We’re going to win the Cup . In a sea of red, in a world of red. Ee-aye-addio, we’re going to win the Cup . But nine minutes later. On the damp turf, the holding turf. In the grey-light and in the slow-rain. His coat stuck to his jacket. His jacket stuck to his shirt. His shirt stuck to his vest. His vest stuck to his skin. Bill watched Bremner score for Leeds. The sea white now, the world white now. But in the grey-light, in the slow-rain. Bill could still hear the supporters of Liverpool Football Club. The supporters of Liverpool Football Club now singing. Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart . In the grey-light and in the slow-rain. And you’ll never walk alone. Smith passed to Callaghan. You’ll never walk alone. Callaghan crossed to St John. A-lone . St John headed the ball. You’ll never walk alone. And St John scored. LI–VER-POOL! The supporters of Liverpool Football Club turning the world red again. LI–VER-POOL! Forever red, forever LI–VER-POOL. Liverpool Football Club had beaten Leeds United two — one. LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL. In the grey-light and in the slow-rain. LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL! On the damp Wembley pitch, on the holding Wembley turf. Liverpool Football Club had won the FA Cup for the first time. On the first of May, nineteen sixty-five –

For the first time. In history,

in their history.

His coat stuck to his jacket. His jacket stuck to his shirt. His shirt stuck to his vest. His vest stuck to his skin. Bill got up from the bench. The Liverpool bench. Bill walked down the touchline. The Wembley touchline. And Bill shook the hand of Don Revie. The Leeds United manager. And then Bill walked across the pitch. The Wembley pitch. Bill went from player to player. From Sprake to Reaney, Reaney to Bell, Bell to Bremner, Bremner to Charlton, Charlton to Hunter, Hunter to Giles, Giles to Storrie, Storrie to Peacock, Peacock to Collins, Collins to Johanneson. Bill patted their backs, Bill shook their hands. And then Bill turned. Bill turned and Bill walked across the turf. The Wembley turf. Towards the supporters of Liverpool Football Club. Towards their scarves and their flags, towards their banners and their songs. Ee-aye-addio, we’ve won the Cup. And Bill stopped on the pitch, the Wembley pitch. Bill stood on the turf, the Wembley turf. Before this sea of red, before this world of red. We’ve won the Cup. His coat stuck to his jacket. His jacket stuck to his shirt. His shirt stuck to his vest. His vest stuck to his skin. Bill clenched his fists, Bill raised his arms. In triumph and in gratitude. Before the crowd and in the crowd, before her sea and in her world. In victory and in thanks. Ee-aye-addio, we won the Cup! For her sea of red,

in her world of red.

…

On the train from London to Liverpool, from Euston to Lime Street. In their carriage, in his seat. Bill looked across the table at Ness. Ness had been at Wembley Stadium. Ness had been at the Cup Final. It had been the first time Ness had ever seen Liverpool Football Club play. And Ness had seen Liverpool Football Club win the Cup. The first time Liverpool Football Club had ever won the FA Cup. The Cup under their table now, at his feet now. Bill smiled at Ness. Ness smiled back at Bill. And in their carriage, in his seat. Bill closed his eyes. And Bill felt the wheels of the train beneath him again. Turning, turning. Their movement and their rhythm. Round and round. Movement and rhythm. Forward, always forward. And in his mind, in his eyes. Bill saw the players of Liverpool Football Club walking up the steps at Wembley. In red. In his mind, in his eyes. Bill saw Ronnie collecting the Cup from the Queen. The Queen in red. In his mind, in his eyes. Bill saw Ronnie lifting the Cup aloft, showing the Cup to the supporters of Liverpool Football Club. In red. In his mind, in his ears. Bill heard the roar of the crowd. In red. That roar that had shook the earth, that had raised the dead. In red, all in red. Resurrected in red, all in red. In their carriage, in his seat. Bill opened his eyes. Again. Bill tapped the Cup with the toe of his shoe. The Cup still there. Under their table, at his feet. In the carriage, on the train, The train back to Lime Street, the train back to Liverpool. The FA Cup coming to Liverpool Football Club. For the very first time. In history, in their history. To LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL …

At Lime Street Station, Liverpool. Bill and Ness and the players and the staff of Liverpool Football Club got off the train. And Bill could not believe his eyes. Everywhere Bill looked, Bill saw faces. The faces of people. Everywhere Bill turned, Bill saw people. People cheering, people clapping. And Bill could not believe his ears. People shouting, people singing. Fifty thousand people cheering and clapping, fifty thousand people shouting and singing. All singing, singing –

LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL …

At the station, Bill and Ness and the players and the staff of Liverpool Football Club boarded the bus. The bus to take them to the Town Hall. And still Bill could not believe his eyes. Everywhere Bill looked, Bill saw more faces. More faces of people. People lining the streets, people thronging the roads. Everywhere Bill turned, Bill saw more people. People hanging off hoardings, people dangling off lamp posts. And still Bill could not believe his eyes. On Castle Street, on Dale Street. People in dangerous places, people risking their lives. For a glimpse of the Cup. One hundred thousand people cheering and clapping, one hundred thousand people shouting and singing –

LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL …

At the Town Hall, Bill and Ness and the players and the staff of Liverpool Football Club got off the bus. Bill and Ness and the players and the staff of Liverpool Football Club walked up the Town Hall steps. Bill and Ness and the players and the staff of Liverpool Football Club walked out onto the Town Hall balcony. And Bill blinked. And blinked. And blinked again. Bill just could not believe his eyes. Across the square, across the city. Everywhere Bill looked, there were people. Bill just could not believe his ears. Everywhere Bill turned, there were people. Two hundred and fifty thousand people. Two hundred and fifty thousand people cheering. Two hundred and fifty thousand people clapping. Two hundred and fifty thousand people shouting. Two hundred and fifty thousand people singing. All singing –

LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL. LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL. LI–VER-POOL,