by David Peace
The Fortieth Week
Monday 3 – Sunday 9 December 1984
They had lost control. Lost control of their money. Lost control of their membership –
Two of their members in South Wales had dropped a concrete block from a bridge onto a taxi taking a working miner to Merthyr Vale Colliery. The block had gone through the windscreen. The taxi-driver had been killed. He had two children, his wife expecting their third at Christmas. Two young miners from the Oakdale and Taff Merthyr collieries had been arrested and charged with murder –
They were thugs and bullies. Hooligans. Terrorists and now murderers –
They were all lepers now –
Their offices were their hospitals. Their villages, their colonies.
There was silence in every office on every floor of every one of their buildings. There was silence in the street, their buckets empty now –
Just buckets of rain. Buckets of pain –
Bomb scares and death threats came by the hour. Letter bombs in the hate mail.
The President was frightened. Frightened of the outside. Frightened of the inside. The President didn’t trust anyone but Len and Joan –
The crows circling the monastery. The wolves at the gates –
The Moderates were meeting. Meeting with the TUC and with the Labour Party. Meeting in corridors. Meeting in motorway hotels. The backrooms of pubs –
Meeting and talking –
Talking of breakaways. Talking of returns without settlement or returns with a settlement. Hands over their mouths. Behind their backs –
Talking and planning –
Planning to sell out. Planning to cave in and compromise. Planning their coup –
Scheming and plotting –
Plotting his downfall. His descent and demise. Conspiring and dreaming. Dreaming of the President’s defeat –
His destruction and death –
The President caught between the rocks of the Right and the hard places of the Left. Cornered and trapped, he lived behind locked doors. He spoke in secret and talked on to tape. Taped all transmissions, recorded all reports. Joan cooked his food. Len tested it. The President ate only small amounts, staggered in stages. He drank only boiled water. The President left the locked doors of his office only for rallies. He travelled only in the Rover. Driven only by Len –
Len paid miners to watch the Rover twenty-four hours a day. Len paid men to watch the miners watching the Rover twenty-four hours a day –
From Friday 30 November 1984.
Today was Monday and tonight the President was to appear at a rally in Stoke. There had been bomb scares and death threats all day. Men with muffled voices had phoned local radio stations and whispered their warnings.
The President took Terry Winters and Paul with him. The President never let Terry out of his sight. The President had Terry and Paul stand before him on the stage. The President shared the platform with the Labour Leader. Terry Winters stared out into the spotlights –
He watched for the nooses. He waited for the snipers.
The Leader spoke first. The Leader said the violence had to stop –
The violence must stop and the violence must stop now.
Hecklers called him a traitor. Judas. Scab! Scab! Scab!
The hecklers were ejected. The Leader given a standing ovation.
The President stood up behind Terry and Paul –
The Town Hall fell silent –
The President’s voice was uncertain here. The President’s words were unsure now. The President admitted his deep shock at the tragic death of the taxi-driver –
He was given a standing ovation. The Town Hall sang the Red Flag –
Then the Town Hall fell silent again.
Len went for the car. Terry and Paul shielded the President as he left the building. The President sat in the back of the Rover between them, drenched in sweat and shaking. Len stayed in the fast lane all the way back to Yorkshire. Len dropped Terry off first. There was a police car parked outside his house –
There was a police car parked outside all their houses now.
*
These have been most fortuitous days for the Jew –
The murder of this taxi-driver in South Wales. The appointment of the receiver. The resignations of a few more Suits –
‘I could not have planned it better had I tried, Neil,’ muses the Jew.
The Jew is sitting pretty behind his desk and a huge new advertisement –
It’ll pay every miner who’s not at work to read this.
The Jew reorganizes his desk into two simple halves –
To the right are the reports on the progress of the receiver and the sequestrators. To the left are the reports on the progress of the National Working Miners’ Committee.
The Jew tracks the information from both left and right on his graphs and maps. The Jew walks round to the front of his desk. The Jew touches his graphs and maps –
The rising blue lines and the many blue pins –
The Jew runs a finger up and down North Derbyshire –
‘Is it not a beautiful thing, Neil?’ asks the Jew. ‘To win?’
Neil Fontaine picks red pins from out of the carpet. Neil Fontaine nods.
‘There were but three hundred and forty-three local lions in May,’ says the Jew. ‘To think there are now four thousand and forty-three in North Derbyshire alone, Neil.’
Neil Fontaine nods again. Neil Fontaine puts the red pins in the bin –
‘Four thousand and forty-three of them!’
But there is a price (there is always a price) –
The Jew has asked Neil to provide security for the homes of every working miner; every single working miner; every single home –
Neil jumps at the chance. The chance of a ghost. The ghost of a chance –
He leaves the Jew to sit pretty at Hobart House. He makes the usual calls –
Jerry Witherspoon. Roger Vaughan. The General –
No one answers the phone. No one takes a message. No one returns his calls.
He makes the usual rounds. He knocks on the usual doors –
The Special Services Club. The Institute of Professional Investigators. The TA –
But no one answers the door. No one knows his face. Remembers his name –
This is how it feels to be out in the cold.
He rents two post-office boxes and he places two adverts in the right magazines. He reserves a room in a hotel out by Heathrow. He pays cash money for all these things –
He uses the name Mr Farrant.
Fuck them. Fuck them all, thinks Neil Fontaine –
Promises Neil Fontaine.
*
The President was staying in Sheffield until the very last minute. Paul and Terry Winters travelled down to London separately. Paul in second class. Terry in first. Paul and Terry checked in to the County separately. Paul got a single room with a sink. Terry got a double with a private bath. Paul and Terry had both registered under assumed names –
Paul chose the name Smith. Terry chose Verloc –
Terry had been rehabilitated. But not by Paul. He had had a choice –
The President had had no choice.
Terry and Paul took separate taxis to the High Court.
The lawyers representing the working miners had claimed the Union trustees, including the President, were not fit and proper persons to be in charge of other people’s money. Not fit and proper persons –
Including the President.
The High Court had agreed. The High Court had removed the five trustees. Including the President. The High Court had appointed a receiver to take control of the Union’s funds and assets.
The receiver was a Mr Booker. Mr Booker planned to leave for Luxembourg. Mr Booker intended to seek the release of the Union’s five million pounds held in a small private bank account there –
Immediately.
Terry and Paul had come to the High Court to appeal. To swear not to mov
e the money. To assure the court they would abide by its jurisdiction.
The lawyers for the working miners said such words were worthless. The lawyers said the Union had embarked on a concerted course of action to hide its funds –
From Sheffield to the Isle of Man. From the Isle of Man to Dublin –
From Dublin to New York. From New York to Zurich –
From Zurich to Luxembourg.
The lawyers said the Union did not recognize the court. The Union had not purged its contempt. The Union continued to be in serious and deliberate contempt of orders, which placed the funds they held on behalf of their members in jeopardy.
The lawyers said the Union, including the President, were not to be trusted –
Especially the President.
The High Court agreed. The High Court asked for the word of the President.
The President was not in court.
Terry and Paul asked for a ten-minute adjournment. Terry and Paul rushed out to the phones. Terry and Paul called Sheffield. Terry and Paul asked for the President –
The President was not in Sheffield. The President was travelling to London –
The President could not be reached.
Terry and Paul went back before the High Court. Terry and Paul told the judge that the President was on his way to the court. Terry and Paul asked for an adjournment until tomorrow. Terry and Paul said that then the President would appear.
The High Court did not agree. The High Court rejected their appeal –
The appointment of Mr Booker as receiver stood –
Mr Booker held the purse strings now. Mr Booker was the boss.
Mr Booker left for Luxembourg –
Immediately.
Paul took a taxi to Congress House to wait for the President and brief the TUC Terry took a taxi to sit at a table in the bar at the County and pray –
Pray for miracles. Pray for resurrection. Pray for redemption –
Terry closed his eyes. Terry bowed his head. Terry said his prayers.
‘Your lips are moving again, Comrade.’
Terry opened his eyes. Terry looked up. Terry crossed himself.
Bill Reed sat down. Bill Reed put an envelope on the table.
Terry looked at the envelope. Terry looked at Bill. Terry said another prayer.
Bill tapped the envelope. Bill winked. Bill said, ‘Gotcha.’
Terry picked up the envelope. Terry opened it. Terry took out the contents –
‘Hubert Harold Booker, come on down,’ laughed Bill Reed. ‘Because, tonight, this is your life.’
Terry read the contents. Terry was amazed. Terry looked at Bill –
Bill looked at his watch. Bill said, ‘The President’s train is just arriving.’
‘This is dynamite,’ said Terry. ‘You must take it to the President, Comrade.’
Bill shook his head. Bill said, ‘The Fourth Estate have copies. That’s enough.’
‘But the President should know what you have done for him,’ said Terry.
Bill shook his head again. Bill said, ‘The President doesn’t need to know.’
‘But you would be forgiven,’ said Terry. ‘Your friendship restored.’
Bill stood up. Bill said, ‘Secret loves are best kept secret, don’t you think?’
Terry looked down at the table. The marks and the scars in the wood.
Bill Reed put his hand on Terry’s shoulder. Bill Reed said, ‘You go to him.’
And Terry went to him. Terry ran to him. Terry met with him –
The President, Terry and all the President’s men met with the TUC for six hours. The President asked the TUC to take out leases on all the Union’s property. The President asked the TUC to pay the wages of all the Union’s employees –
The TUC said they would need legal advice. The TUC were worried they would be held in contempt for assisting the National Union of Mineworkers –
The President shook his head. The President rolled his eyes.
The President and all the President’s men met the National Executive Committee. The NEC voted eleven to six to recommend that the Union’s cash be brought back to Britain, bringing the Union back into compliance with the law –
The President had supported the recommendation –
Terry was amazed. Terry was anxious –
The NEC were recommending to the Special Delegate Conference that the Union pay the £200,000 fine for contempt and obey all future court actions –
That there could be no disciplinary measures against scabs –
That they would have to hold a national ballot, if the court so decreed –
That the strike was unofficial –
Terry was appalled. Terry was afraid.
The meeting broke up in the small hours. Len drove the President and the ladies back to the Barbican. Terry and Paul walked back up to the County –
They took different routes.
Mr Verloc had messages waiting. Mr Verloc asked for an early morning alarm call and for The Times, the Telegraph, the Guardian, the Mirror and the Morning Star.
Mr Verloc did not sleep. Mr Verloc did not need his alarm call –
Mr Verloc read the headlines. Mr Verloc read the stories –
Hubert Harold Booker was vice-president of a Derbyshire Conservative Association. Hubert Harold Booker was an ex-Tory councillor. Hubert Harold Booker was a member of the Institute of Directors –
Hubert Harold Booker was also in for a shock and the sack.
Mr Verloc ate breakfast alone with half a smile and a slice of toast.
Terry Winters walked up to Congress House for the Special Delegate Conference. The President had called the delegates to discuss the legal assault upon the NUM –
To debate the three options. To decide on the best course to take.
‘Comrades, we will win this strike because the issue is right,’ said the President. ‘No matter what actions are taken against the NUM or its officers, it will not deter people in this Union who fight for what they know to be right: the right to work.’
The two hundred and twenty delegates applauded their president.
The President sat down. Paul then stood up and outlined the options –
‘The Union could ignore the courts. The Union could take no action whatsoever. The Union could recognize the supremacy of the High Court and thus purge its contempt; pay its fine, but gain the release of its funds.’
The two hundred and twenty delegates argued. The delegates squabbled and spat. The two hundred and twenty delegates fought. They bickered and they brawled –
Terry got a message from Mike in Luxembourg. Terry went to the phone –
‘Comrade, the bank have refused Booker admittance,’ Mike Sullivan told Terry. ‘The bank won’t hand over any money to any third party without a local court order. Booker is going to have to go to court here in Luxembourg to establish the validity of their claim. The plan’s worked!’
‘Of course,’ said Terry. ‘Didn’t I say it would?’
Terry hung up. Terry went back inside the conference to break the good news –
‘Good news, Comrades,’ shouted Terry. ‘The receiver has been defeated.’
There was applause for Terry Winters. There were accolades for Terry Winters –
The two hundred and twenty special delegates voted 139 to 80 to reject the moderate recommendation of the National Executive to bring their bacon back home to Britain. The money was to stay right where it was –
In the more than capable hands of their Comrade Chief Executive –
Terry Winters was absolved. Terry Winters was astonished.
The Kalamares in Inverness Mews, the Capannina on Romilly Street, the Scandia Room in the Piccadilly Hotel, the Icelandic Steakhouse on Haymarket –
In 1969. In 1972. In 1974. In 1979 –
These were the times and the places where Malcolm Morris had sat and stared into the silences and the spaces –
The loving wife he’d never met and the who
re he had. The lovely children they’d never had and the abortions they had.
The waiters did not bring him the menu. The waiters did not take his order –
Malcolm Morris was nothing but a ghost now. Nothing but a shadow –
In 1984 –
A shadow in the back where the light did not reach.
Mr Verloc woke up in his double room at the County. He was naked in his private bath. The water was cold, the shower still running. Mr Verloc dried and dressed himself for the day ahead. Mr Verloc ate breakfast alone with a sore cock and extra toast –
Terry had known it was risky. Diane had known it too. But they just didn’t care. Diane wanted to fuck Mr Verloc in his double room at the County. In his private bath. And Mr Verloc wanted to fuck Diane to thank her for all the things she’d done. So Terry and Diane had waited until the President was back at the Barbican; Paul and Dick in the Crown & Anchor with everyone else. Then Terry had gone to King’s Cross for Diane –