Durham Trilogy 03. Never Stand Alone

by Janet MacLeod Trotter

  ‘It’s non-union drivers are the problem,’ Eddy muttered. ‘They’ll cross the Red Sea if the bosses tell them.’

  Dan Hardman shifted nervously and asked Mick for a cigarette. It was his first time on picket duty and Mick wondered if they should have brought him along. It might have been better to let him picket at home to start with, but now it was too late. The number of police was growing by the minute and they looked set for a confrontation.

  ‘How’s Linda?’ Mick asked him.

  Dan shrugged. ‘OK.’ Mick thought that was all he was going to say, but he suddenly blurted out, ‘I can’t afford to keep the flat on. I’m going to have to move back in with my parents.’

  Mick watched him. ‘What about Linda?’

  Dan gave him a defensive look. ‘She’ll have to go back to her mam and dad. I can’t see what else we can do.’

  ‘What does Linda want to do?’ Mick asked, trying to keep his voice level.

  ‘She wants to get wed, of course. On at me all the time,’ he grumbled.

  ‘Well, she is going to have your bairn,’ Mick reminded him.

  ‘Aye, that’s all I ever hear about,’ Dan complained. ‘And how am I supposed to pay for it? I told Linda I didn’t want her to keep it.’

  Mick bit back a sharp reply. Instead he said, ‘We’ll help you out where we can, that’s what families are for. Don’t go doing anything daft without telling us first.’

  Suddenly a shout went up and Mick found the men around him surging forward. Within seconds he was separated from Dan and the others. Above the noise of the crowd he could hear the roar of a lorry approaching at speed and the cordon of police began to push them back. They jostled and shoved and Mick heard Sid shouting in anger somewhere nearby. The lorry drew closer, but the rows of police were too great to break through.

  All at once, Mick saw Sid drop his shoulder and charge at a constable as if on the rugby field. He barged the policeman out of the way and ran out into the road, followed by several others. They tried to flag down the lorry, but Mick could tell it was not going to stop.

  ‘Get out the bloody way!’ he shouted at his friend.

  Just as Mick thought Sid was going to be knocked over by the coal lorry, two policemen grabbed him from behind and wrenched him backwards, flinging him to the ground. Then Mick lost his footing as they were shoved backwards and the lorry sped past through the gates with a belch of exhaust.

  ‘Shite!’ It was Eddy beside him, pulling him up. ‘Look over there.’

  Mick stood just in time to see Sid being bundled into the back of one of the white vans along with two others and then he was gone from sight. Mick felt a surge of anger and frustration at the arrest of his friend. What right had the police to prevent them from trying to speak to the drivers? They were being treated like criminals. He was about to rush after the van when Eddy put a restraining hand on his arm.

  There’s nowt we can do just now,’ he told him, ‘and I think you better see to the Hardman lad.’ Eddy nodded over his shoulder.

  Hearing a groan behind him, Mick turned and saw Dan bent double over the dirty verge. He rushed up to the young miner.

  ‘Are you hurt, lad?’ he asked in concern.

  Dan did not answer as he retched into the ditch.

  Eddy came up beside them. ‘Nerves, is it?’ he grunted, putting a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  Dan shoved him away and glared at them both. ‘I wasn’t scared! Someone hit me in the stomach!’

  Eddy said, ‘Aye, of course.’ But Mick could tell by the glance he gave him that he did not believe Dan.

  ‘Come on, I’ll give you a lift home,’ Mick offered. Then someone’ll have to break the news to Kelly.’

  ‘It’s not like the Big Meeting, Mam,’ Laura said, her small face worried. ‘I don’t like it here.’

  Carol tried to smother her own fear. The march had started well enough and the speeches had been rousing, but now on their way back to the coaches, the onlookers were openly hostile. A grey-haired woman shook her fist and spat at Lotty and Evelyn as they went by carrying the banner. Two men beside her shouted obscenities and when Carol looked round they stuck two fingers up at her and swore again.

  ‘Don’t use language like that in front of my little girl!’ Carol had broken step to round on them. Laura clung to her hand like a limpet.

  ‘Haway,’ Joanne said, pulling her arm, ‘just ignore them.’

  ‘Bloody whores!’ one man bellowed. ‘Think you can come down here interfering.’

  ‘Yeah, let’s see your tits! That’s all you’re good for,’ the other leered.

  Carol was incensed, her face turning puce with embarrassed indignation. But before she could speak, May Dillon elbowed her way in front and rounded on the heckler.

  ‘Well, if that’s all you’ve got to say for yourself, you’re a poor excuse for a man!’ she scorned, prodding him with a large finger so that he had to step back. ‘We’re down here to show our support for real men - men who want to work hard for a living and take care of their families and treat their lasses with respect. I wouldn’t walk to the kerb and back for the likes of you!’

  June came to her sister’s side, ready to back her up. The man took a look at the bulky women standing aggressively with fists on hips, swore at them foully and moved away. His friend followed, but the grey-haired woman was not so daunted.

  ‘Call them real men, do you? Well, that’s a laugh! Your men are a bunch of sheep following that communist Scargill. He’s the one what’s ruining the coal industry. If they had any guts about them, they’d go back to work tomorrow and be grateful for what they get. Our men are making good money down here and we’re certainly not going to give it up for the likes of you. So just leave us alone!’

  Carol was stunned by the woman’s invective, far more than by the men’s childish abuse. She had come here thinking they could all be united, that all they had to do was march together and others would follow. But here were mining people who had not only disagreed with what they were fighting for but despised them so much they had come out to harass them.

  ‘Haway,’ Joanne told her friends, ‘she’s not worth arguing with.’

  Aye, got the brains of a pea,’ May ridiculed.

  ‘A wizened one at that,’ June laughed.

  The marchers were moving on and soon they would be separated from the others. But Carol was desperate to convince the angry-faced woman. Charlie or Mick would’ve done the same; Todds didn’t run from an argument when they knew they were right.

  ‘You might have good money today,’ Carol said, stepping forward, ‘but for how long? It might be your husband’s or son’s pit next year. It doesn’t matter how much they’re investing in it now, tomorrow it could be called uneconomic just like Cortonwood. And then where will you be? You won’t have the help of the thousands of miners on strike now, because they won’t be miners any more. The only way you can safeguard your own jobs is to join the strike and help save the jobs at the threatened pits now, before it’s too late. Arthur Scargill’s right about a hit list.’

  The woman looked at her uneasily but would not be swayed. ‘Scargill! You’re scaremongering, just like him. No one’s going to get compulsory redundancy. The Yorkshire miners will be offered jobs in other pits.’

  ‘Where?’ Carol demanded. ‘In Nottinghamshire? In your husband’s pit? Is he going to give up his job for one of them?’

  ‘Well, they’ve nothing to complain about,’ she blustered. The Coal Board are offering the best redundancy pay in the country.’

  ‘So they pay them off with taxpayers’ money - our money - and the pit closes. They can’t open it up again. And when the pit goes, the work goes and the life of the village goes down the plughole an’ all!’ Carol cried.

  ‘Aye,’ May shouted. ‘If it happens to us, our husbands might never work again!’

  ‘Our village would be a dead place without the pit,’ June added.

  ‘You should be the other side of this rope
standing up for all miners,’ Carol told the woman and swept her arm to include all the stony-faced onlookers. ‘It’ll be your families one day!’

  But the middle-aged woman waved them on angrily. ‘Not in my lifetime! Go back home where you belong and stop making a nuisance of yourselves. We don’t want your problems here and we’re not going to give up our good living for anybody. We’ve worked hard for it and deserve every penny. So just shove off!’ She spat at them again and her gobbet of phlegm landed on Carol’s cheek.

  Carol gasped in disgust, too stunned to react. The crowd grew more menacing with aggressive words and rude gestures.

  ‘Mammy, I want to go!’ Laura tugged at her hand in fright. ‘Nana’s gone. I can’t see her. Mammy, please.’

  Carol saw with shock that her daughter was in tears. She was furious with the woman for frightening her child and guilty that she had brought Laura in the first place.

  ‘Haway, Carol,’ Joanne took her arm, ‘let’s get out of here.’

  She turned away humiliated, clutching Laura close, and followed her friends.

  May shouted a last insult. ‘Don’t die of anything trivial, will you!’

  The others made a show of laughing but Carol was shaken as they hurried to catch up with Lotty and the women who had disappeared ahead with the banner. How naive she had been to believe that most people thought the way they did. After all, her own family lived in a striking village and yet were opposed to the cause. How much more difficult it was going to be to convince an apathetic or hostile public who thought the strike had nothing to do with them, she thought bleakly.

  All at once Carol could not wait to get out of the town and back north on the bus. As they approached the line of coaches, parked along the side of the road, she became aware of another line of white police vans. There had been a police presence in the town but there had been no trouble apart from an exchange of insults with some of the men. Now people sat about on the grass verge smoking and chatting and waiting to board the coaches. Carol noticed two teenagers sharing a can of beer, laughing over something. At least the march as a whole had been peaceful and no one could call them troublemakers.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ Lotty rushed up to them. ‘I’ve been that worried.’

  ‘Nana, you went without us,’ Laura accused, throwing herself into her grandmother’s arms. ‘Mam was shouting at this old woman. So was Auntie May. She was nasty - spat on Mam. I was scared, Nana!’

  Carol was about to explain when shouting broke out right behind them. She turned to see the two teenagers in dispute with a group of police. The uniformed men were pushing them around, accusing them of drinking under age.

  ‘I’m eighteen!’ Carol heard one youth insist.

  ‘Bloody liar!’ the policeman answered and shoved him backwards. The boy tried to fend him off, but a second officer grabbed him.

  ‘That’s called obstructing a police officer,’ he taunted. ‘We’ll have you!’

  A moment later, his truncheon was in the air and then he brought it down on the boy’s head. His friend kicked out in defence. The miners standing nearby, who had watched the teenagers being baited, rushed over to help them and suddenly the place erupted.

  It was as if a signal had been given, for abruptly the doors of the white police vans burst open and dozens of uniformed officers jumped out. They swarmed like dark wasps on the miners and began to grab bystanders indiscriminately, punching and kicking and hauling them away. Carol gaped at the violent scene, quite frozen in horror.

  One moment there had been a scene of tired marchers waiting for stragglers to catch up and board the coaches, the next there was a pitched battle. Fists flew and boots were kicking men on the ground. She heard the sickening crack of truncheons and the howl of the police in pursuit of the scattering miners. The fighting spread like a fire about to engulf them all. Carol looked into the grinning face of one officer as he beat a man on the ground and saw that he was enjoying himself, intoxicated by violence. The man on the ground was curling up under the blows to his head and all she could do was watch.

  Carol felt sick with terror and wanted to run but could not move. She knew she should try to help the miner. What if this was Mick?

  ‘Leave him alone,’ she screamed. ‘You’ll kill him!’

  But no one seemed to hear her. She pushed her way towards the attack and put a hand out, grabbing the policeman’s arm. He stopped for a moment and stared at her.

  Suddenly Carol was aware of Laura screaming beside her and Lotty pushing her towards the bus.

  ‘Get away!’ her mother-in-law commanded.

  Kelly’s father was on the steps pulling the women and their children on as fast as he could.

  ‘Let’s get the hell out of here!’ he shouted at them. People were shouting and crying out to each other, banging on the windows in anger and fear at the scene below. Carol scrambled on board, shoving Laura ahead of her.

  The doors slammed shut and the coach began to move while everyone was still swaying in the aisle. Ted Laws reversed over the verge and swung the bus round, away from the fighting. Carol strained to see what had happened to the miner on the ground but could not find him among the sea of struggling men. She saw someone clambering over a wall being pulled back into the fight and then the bus was accelerating fast down the road.

  ‘There’s May,’ June screamed. ‘She’s not on the bus!’

  ‘Stop for her!’ Joanne shouted, turning to Kelly’s father.

  Ted slowed, unsure what to do. Laura howled as she knocked her head against the back of a seat. Carol grabbed her and clung on, trying to soothe the distraught girl and protect her from the sights beyond the window. For an instant she wanted them to keep moving, to take her daughter and herself and the others to safety. Let May follow on the next bus out. Carol hated herself for her cowardly feelings, but they engulfed her.

  Then Laura began to scream in agitation.

  ‘Auntie May! Auntie May’s left behind. Don’t leave her!’

  All at once, Laura’s distress spurred Carol out of her paralysing fear. They were running away like terrified animals, but they were not going to leave their friend behind.

  ‘Hold Laura,’ Carol ordered Lotty. She lurched to the front. ‘Get the doors open!’

  Ted obeyed. Carol stood on the steps with the bus still trundling forward and held out a hand to May. She panted towards the open door, her coat gone and anxious face perspiring. She was so out of breath she could not speak. Carol leaned out further and May grabbed her hand. The heavy woman nearly yanked her out of the bus, but June was there behind and hung on to Carol. May tumbled on to the steps like a beached sea lion. The doors slammed shut and Ted accelerated once again.

  Between them, Carol and June hauled May up and gave her a hug. Carol could feel her friend sobbing with relief. A cheer went up on the bus as they sped out of danger. A roundabout loomed up ahead, but Ted hardly stopped as he rushed across it.

  ‘Are you all right, Auntie May?’ Laura asked, looking at her flushed, damp face.

  May nodded, too distraught to speak.

  ‘We’d have left you, no bother,’ June teased her sister, ‘but Laura made us stop.’

  ‘Aye, now that’s the end of peace and quiet,’ Joanne grinned and hugged May.

  But May was still too overcome to say anything and the bus fell silent. Carol glanced back at the struggle still going on in the distance and worried about the man on the ground. They had all had a terrible fright and Carol wondered if the women’s group might collapse before it had properly started. None of them would want to face that again.

  A police van tore past them, its siren screeching, and Carol saw the anxious looks on the faces around her.

  Suddenly, May spoke. ‘He’ll not sell many ice creams going that fast,’ she declared.

  It was an old joke, but with it the tension broke and the women laughed.

  ‘He’ll be wanting to get home to see himself on the telly,’ June quipped.

  ‘No,�
� Lotty joined in, ‘his wife’s told him not to be late for tea.’

  The jokes continued. After several minutes, Ted shouted out, ‘Anybody know which way to go?’

  ‘Home’ll do, Ted man,’ June called back.

  ‘None of this looks familiar,’ Ted grumbled. ‘I lost me bearings back there.’

  ‘Your ball bearings, Ted?’ someone shouted. There was ribald laughter and a startled exclamation from Evelyn Wilson. ‘Our Denise!’

  Carol looked in astonishment at the normally mute Denise and saw her grinning under her long black fringe.

  ‘Let’s have a whip-round for Ted’s bearings,’ May suggested.

  ‘It’s all your fault, any road,’ June joked. Ted would still have ‘em if we hadn’t stopped for you.’

  ‘You bugger, I wish I’d caught another bus,’ May replied. ‘I’d have been home by now.’

  ‘We could always stop at the friendly local police station and ask for directions,’ Carol laughed.

  ‘Remind me never to go on a trip with her again,’ May grinned.

  ‘Give us a B,’ Joanne began.

  ‘B!’ they chorused back.

  ‘Give us an M . . .’

  As they sped through the unknown Midland landscape, chanting at the tops of their voices, Carol knew their group was not going to fizzle out. Travelling away together and experiencing the shocking events of the day had knitted them more tightly than any amount of committee meetings ever could have.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Carol could not sleep, so she got up and went downstairs to make a cup of tea. She squeezed a used tea bag into a mug and poured on boiling water. Sometime soon she would get used to black tea without sugar, she thought, grimacing at the bitter hot taste. Mick had resorted to a drop of condensed milk to sweeten his tea, as they saved their ration of real milk for Laura.

  Carol sat in the dark, wrapped in her dressing-gown and thought of their daughter, buried under the covers of their double bed where she had insisted on sleeping.

  Mick had lost his temper when he discovered how close they had been to the violence at the rally.