by Graham Johns
“Well, I think our political game has become apparent at least,” Veronica said.
“Can we use the telethon to get a message out there somehow? Can we get on TV and mobilise protests?” Bob asked.
“Other than going to see our MP and having a meeting with him, I don’t see that we have a great deal of choice,” Ernest said.
“He’s a soft southern bastard with a lisp, Maurice Bickerdyke is his name, and being a weasel-bastard is his game, and that is being derogatory to weasels everywhere!” Gordon almost shouted. He decided to leave the room again at this point.
“Whoever is free, we’ll go and see him tomorrow morning,” Veronica said.
***
Word had spread since the night before. One person speaks to another and then another and before long the whole of Nether-Staining knew what was going on. The village grapevine had done its thing once more.
Those present on the organising committee, minus Selina who thought better of such an outing, and the Reverend who had better things to do, left the village with time to spare, largely so as to not have to be behind Gordon in traffic. He and Mick arrived twenty minutes after everyone else and Gordon again stopped to count the offended drivers filing past as he exited the vehicle.
“Seventeen today!” he advised with a rather more satisfied air than he had yesterday. “A new record! One man actually mooned at me on the way past, that’s new. Wonder how he could still drive the car. Clever dick.”
Even if it was a male behind, Mick paused momentarily to convert it to a female bottom and bask in the thought of a nice, fine naked specimen, before saying, “Time for action.”
“I think you’ll find it’s time to play a game of ‘Lynch the Bastard’, Michael.”
CHAPTER 10
LET’S ALL PLAY ‘LYNCH THE BASTARD’
IT REALLY IS SUCH FUN!
YOU GRAB HIM BY THE ARMS AND LEGS
AND I’LL GO GET MY GUN!
Maurice Bickerdyke arrived in a timely fashion for his regular clinic at around nine o’clock and was shocked by the scene before him. Word had spread so effectively that most of Nether-Staining was patiently awaiting his showing this morning, gathered in a haphazard fashion outside his office and encroaching onto the road in a number of places. As with any crowd scene, it was really just small groups who knew each other that made up a larger whole. But this was a village-load of them with common cause. At least two hundred persons were there nursing varying levels of anger, anger which was simmering slowly with a hope of boiling over. Maurice realised he must face them and get it over with, but also tread carefully. Deep breath completed and moustache smoothed, he approached his office with the most winning smile he could muster.
“Good morning everyone! Pleathe give me a few minuteth and I will be ready to thpeak to you all!” He unlocked his door and disappeared inside before anyone had chance to respond.
The crowd of people spent the interim period whispering to each other in hushed tones, wondering what to expect next. Words like “bastard”, “git”, “swine”, “dishonest” and, strangely, “railway enthusiast” were heard flying around. He reappeared as promised. The crowd volume was turned all the way up to eleven as everyone started to speak at once. Maurice raised his arms and then lowered his hands palm-down and the volume decreased to three.
“Ladieth and gentlemen, thank you for waiting, I hope I can help you today. Pleathe let me talk and I will then anthwer quethtionth.”
People exchanged looks, one or two exchanged translations, and then they waited. There was palpable anger almost dripping from them. Maurice felt he had to shout to make himself heard and took several deep breaths as he built up his concentration before beginning in as loud a spoken voice as he could muster.
“Thank you all for waiting! I know you are angry and I agree with your feeling on the matter! I am your MP and I will fight it with you! I am amazed by the plan to join our county and another! I know I have been garnering opinion but I believe I didn’t ever allude to agreeing with it! Together we will fight! Together we will keep our county whole and per normal!”
Maurice ceased talking and waited. The crowd was mostly silent. It seemed that the promised lynching game wasn’t likely to happen now and there were a few disappointed faces. One teenager attempted to kick a passing cat in frustration and got a slap around the head from his mother in payment. Gordon looked at the child with distaste, indeed any form of human child would get that reaction from him in equal measures. He then looked at the cat and pondered his distaste for that type of creature also, before shifting his mind to thoughts about Maurice.
“The two-faced bastard,” Gordon whispered to Mick, “he’s lying.”
“At least he didn’t shower us with spittle during that little speech, it’s quite a talent to say that much without using the letter ‘s’,” Mick replied in equal degrees of quietude, “but yes, I agree, he’s got to be up to something.”
“We’ll just have to see what he does next and be careful not to trust him,” Gordon concluded by fixing his MP with a hostile expression, not easy with a pair of mutton chops.
Most of the crowd dispersed quite quickly now that their fire had been extinguished. It didn’t take long for Gordon and Mick to be left feeling a sense of open space as even Maurice Bickerdyke had retreated to his office. A fine drizzle began to drip onto them.
“D’you think we should get him involved in our planning then?” Mick asked.
“You mean keep your enemies close? That kind of thing?” Gordon replied.
“Yeah, but keep him at arm’s length at the same time. Feed him the odd line every now and again perhaps.”
“Might be worth a try, plus he’s got an inside track on the whole governmental thing.”
The rest of the committee who had been present for the speech slowly assembled with Mick and Gordon. There was a general consensus that here was a man who they couldn’t trust, which was no great surprise given he was a politician, thereby cut from the same cloth as dishonest folk everywhere. Mick was surprised that everyone agreed that they perhaps needed to talk with the man, however, and allow him some knowledge of their campaign plans. With this in mind, they trooped into his office as one.
“You again?” Maurice asked when he saw Gordon enter the room. “If you are here to rattle my china again you can leave in the identical way to that you entered by.”
“A fine choice of words there, Mr. Bickerdyke,” said Gordon.
Gordon took the only available seat as Mick, Ernest, Veronica, Ranjit, Mathew, Bob, Beryl, Tom and Johnny filed in behind him and were forced to stand. There was a short uncomfortable silence as they all shouldered each other in an effort to get a tad more personal space.
“What can I do for you?” Maurice asked.
“We’ve got a proposal for you,” Gordon said, “we want to test your words just now and see if you can help us ensure that we don’t experience any issues going forward with this county-merger nonsense.”
Maurice looked at Gordon and his assembled cohort and shook his head slowly with his eyes closed. “No, I’m thorry but your methodth of acthion are contrary to what I believe to be right and proper. I cannot allow my party to be linked with thuch extremeth.”
There was a momentary pause while the message sank in. A few etchings of surprise appeared on a few faces.
“Really?” said Mick, leaning precariously on Veronica, who was trying in vain to push him off, “Not even in an advisory capacity?”
“I don’t thee how I can work on your thide. It compromitheth my principleth.”
“But there’s strength in numbers, a problem shared is a problem halved and so on,” Gordon offered.
“And I’ve got some excellent videos from my gym you might enjoy, you’re welcome to borrow them,” Mathew added.
Whether it was this offer of filth which tipped the scales, documented history will thankfully protect us from, but a smile etched across the features of Maurice Bickerdyke.
&nb
sp; “Lithen, I have an idea, why don’t we conthult on the political side of thingth in thecret and I will attend your meetingth and we can go from there?”
A touch of relief passed around the group momentarily, even if feigned.
“Excellent, thank you!” Gordon said and stood, causing his chair to slide backwards and smack Ernest in the midriff. He took a business card from the desk in the same motion, notably graceful for a larger man.
“Fat bastard,” Ernest muttered under his breath.
The assembled group vacated the room.
***
Bob had opened the Dog & Duck a little earlier than usual so the committee could meet and discuss their options, an added benefit of which being that there was no danger of appearing on one of Mathew’s videos. On entering the building Mick noted a large stack of boxes labelled with various distiller’s logos.
“You expecting an increased demand for spirits, Bob?”
Bob looked a little nervous at his oversight but quickly recovered to say, “Maybe, but there was an offer on at the suppliers so I thought I’d get a few boxes in while the going is good. Can I interest you in a mid-morning schnapps perhaps?”
“No thanks, I’d happily sample some Hole though if that’s OK?”
Bob obtained Mick’s Hole for him and arranged, with Beryl’s help, hot drinks for everyone else.
“So,” Mathew began when all were settled, “what are we going to tell Mr. Bickerdyke and how are we going to ensure we take advantage of the situation?”
“It seems fairly plain to me that we tell him things that sound true but are not really true at all. Thus giving him a flavour of what we intend but directing him and whoever his cronies are down the wrong path,” Gordon said, “but we don’t need to hold two meetings each time of course.”
“And do we think he’ll give us anything in return?” Ernest asked the group.
“I doubt it. He’ll probably do the same to us. The bastard.”
“At least if we expect that, we can plan for it. Perhaps for now we should just continue to focus on ourselves and look for an opportunity to leverage this new arrangement?” Mathew asked. Nobody disagreed with him on that score.
“I imagine he’ll most likely be looking to do the same so I guess we need to be vigilant on that score,” Ernest added earnestly, “so if he contacts you, be on your guard.” He looked at those present one-by-one and then arose from his seat to leave. The meeting seemed to be over.
***
“Yeth. I’ve made contact with them, or rather they made contact with me. It ought to give our group an inthight into what they are doing going forward. Mind you, they probably won’t trutht me, and neither I them. Time will tell what it will deliver.”
“Very good. Very good indeed. Keep on it. Don’t allow things to stagnate.” The voice sounded pleased.
“OK.”
Maurice put down the telephone and cradled his chin thoughtfully with one hand while smoothing his moustache with the other. He needed to think about how best to snoop. A sound strategy was required, something more than him just turning up in Nether-Staining looking like an MP. Maybe a disguise would work? Or maybe a stooge to act on his behalf? Mind you, they didn’t seem like the sharpest bunch of yokels he’d come across so perhaps too much thought would be a bad thing.
***
TRANSCRIPT FROM YORKSHIRE TELEVISION NEWS
“Our main headline this evening is that bigoted attacks have broken out in various parts of the county. A number of hate crimes have been committed against anyone who is known to not be born in Yorkshire, and in some cases, against those who are very much of Yorkshire origins.
“It seems that the building of an external county wall, one which has been met with almost unanimous support from the public, is now leading to rather unsavoury outcomes. Unwelcome acts of vandalism and bullying are already beginning to rend communities into two, marginalising new minorities, who in many cases may have moved into the county from what is effectively just a short distance down the road.
“Opinion of this reporter is that interpretation of the original desire to try to avert the uniting of Yorkshire and Lancashire has, it seems, begun to go awry and the less desirable members of the population are now creating a headache for local policing services. One can only hope that such behaviour and prejudice doesn’t get passed from the old to the young as time goes by.
“A statement from the Prime Minister has already condemned such behaviour and there have been warnings that if they continue, more drastic action will be considered to control the unruly element of the population.”
***
“Oh hell,” Mick said as he watched the news unfold from the sanctity of the pub after their meeting had concluded.
“What?” asked Gordon as he returned from a bathroom break, still adjusting his belt and checking his flies before he took his seat once more.
“Why are there always idiots who spoil a good thing for everyone else? Look at these pictures!”
Gordon watched as images of graffiti scrawled over alleyways were shown on screen, with unimaginative messages such as ‘Lancastrians out!’ shown in gaudy glory. Other more racist messages were also shown before the images cut to what would perhaps look like normal Friday night drunken behaviour being played out in broad daylight as scuffles and object-throwing was clear on camera from the centre of Leeds and outside schools.
“This wasn’t what we wanted!” Mick added. “We wanted a wall and consideration of our rights!”
Gordon shook his head and adopted a philosophical air, “I guess we reap what we sow, we should’ve known this would come about. For all the bastards outside of Yorkshire, there are plenty of bastards in it as well. We should kick them out too!”
“Maybe we need to have a chat with that Bickerdyke fella quicker than we thought. I’ll let Veronica and Ernest know and they can perhaps invite him round to their place, what d’you think?”
“Guess you’re right. Let’s do it. Hopefully this won’t change our outlook or derail our plans too much. Not sure I could face being classed as Lancastrian after all these years,” Gordon said with yet another shake of the head. He then rose to his feet, finishing the last gulp of Priest’s Hole as he did so, and left the pub.
Bob arrived at Mick’s table shaking a bucket with a few coins in it, “Care to buy another raffle ticket?”
“Not right now, Bob. I fear this latest news might scupper a few things, I’ll see you later.” Mick left the pub for the Scoggins’ farm, leaving Bob staring after him with a half-shaken bucket of coins, somewhat dolefully reflecting the light from his many sequins.
***
The committee convened the following evening at the Scoggins’ farm, with their Member of Parliament also in attendance. They were seated around the ample pine kitchen table as this was the only space large enough to accommodate them all. There was a notable edginess to the event as nobody was entirely sure what they should or shouldn’t say, the result of which was that most people didn’t say anything for fear of announcing something that would later be regretted.
Veronica called the meeting to order by clapping her hands twice, “Thank you everyone for coming. And thank you to Mr. Bickerdyke for attending also.”
Maurice nodded at everyone.
“In light of some recent and very concerning violent events we felt we should get together to decide what, if anything, needs to change from our perspective, or if we just carry on. Does anyone have any thoughts?” Veronica eyed the group slowly but none were forthcoming with opinions.
“Well, if you will allow me, I will begin by thaying that apparently there hath been a violent act here in Nether-Thtaining. I wath told about it thith afternoon.” Maurice started the conversation.
“Who was it?” Mick asked.
“A Mr. Towler, I’m told.”
The group all zeroed in on Tom as one. He shifted uncomfortably under such a weight of disapproving stares.
“What did you do?” Mick a
sked him.
Tom shifted a little more before whispering in a barely audible manner, “Kicked a tourist. Gorrim right in the knackers.”
“You moron!” Gordon shouted at him. Veronica followed this up by moving towards Tom and swiftly clipped him round the ear.
“This won’t help our cause, Tom. We can’t be doing things like that and expecting support from elsewhere for our cause at the same time!” Mick had a better handle on politics than was expected.
Tom rubbed his head where Veronica had connected, “Sorry, I didn’t think.”
“Clearly,” Gordon said, “if you have to kick someone, at least have the sense to do it out of sight!”
Veronica clipped Gordon for that one. “Ow!”
Mick asked of Gordon, “What? On their ass you mean?”
Veronica clipped Mick too for good measure. “Ow!”
“Doeth anyone elthe think that maybe having a violent member on thith committee may not be the motht thenthible option?” Maurice asked.
There was quiet for a moment as everyone considered their own private thoughts on the matter. It was Tom who broke the silence.
“Fair play, I’ll save you all the trouble of voting me out or summat. I quit. I’d rather just help where I can anyway instead of all of this committee crap.”
With his little speech said he left the building. Johnny Gilpin followed swift on his heels, “Afraid we come as a pair, a BOGOF!” His laugh at his own statement was cut short as the door closed behind him as he left.
“Well, that should make these gatherings a little quieter and easier to arrange at least,” Mathew said.
“So, what do we do next?” Bob asked.
“Bloody hell, Bob, it’s hard to look at you under direct light!” Gordon said, referring not only to Bob’s purple sequins but now with purple patent leather shoes he had to match his fundraising suit, replacing the black ones he had on earlier.
Ignoring Gordon, Maurice said, “You need to tell people that you condemn the rethent acthionth and thupport a peatheful protetht only. Thimple. Then you can go on with your plan ath before.”