Hatred

by M J Dees

  “Speak of the devil,” said Annabel, inviting them in. “We were just talking about you. We were worried. Is everything okay?”

  “My mother died,” Jon explained. “She was having an operation, and it got complicated.”

  “I am so sorry,” said Annabel.

  “Is there anything we can do?” asked Jim.

  “That’s very kind,” said Jenny.

  Jon looked embarrassed.

  “To be honest,” he began. “My mother’s death is not the actual reason we haven’t been in touch.”

  Annabel and Jim leant forward in unison.

  “You know my father is a civil servant?” Jon continued. “He’s been told that they will dismiss him if we continue our friendship with you and Annabel.”

  “What?” Jim sat back in his chair, amazed. “I didn’t know I was that important.”

  “I had to come and tell you. You see ... the thing is ... if you had heard about my mother and came to the funeral... we can’t risk it.”

  “I understand,” said Jim. “Don’t worry. We won’t come. You needn’t feel bad. Please pass on our condolences to your father. Your mother was a very kind and generous woman.”

  *

  Annabel and Jim sat in silence in the evening, not speaking to each other after an argument over nothing. There was a knock at the door.

  “Who is that at this time of night?” Jim grumbled, getting to his feet.

  When he opened the door, Jon Li’s father, Brian stood nervously looking around on the doorstep.

  “Mr Li? What is it? Come in, please, sit down.”

  “I’m sorry for turning up unannounced at this late hour.”

  “Not at all,” said Annabel. “Jon explained it would risk your job if anyone saw you with us.”

  “That’s why I waited until dark. I wanted to thank you for your kind words of sympathy when Kimberly died. Jon passed them onto me.”

  “But there was no need to risk being spotted to come and thank us,” said Annabel.

  “That’s not the only reason I came. Jon collapsed at the funeral. He’s convalescing in the Clitheroe with Jenny. I thought you’d like to know.”

  “That’s very kind,” said Jim. “You could have just sent us a message.”

  “No, if they knew I had contacted you, I would lose my job for sure. It’s much safer to come in person, I don’t think anyone followed me.”

  “Can I get you a drink?” asked Annabel.

  “Do you have coffee?”

  “One coffee, coming right up.”

  Jim and Brian conversed while Annabel made the coffee, and the old man seemed to relax. The conversation moved to football and the European Championships, the finals of which were being held in England yet again. Jim was not an avid follower of football, but he knew enough to know that half of the players in the beloved national team were of foreign heritage. But the Unity movement appeared, conveniently, to overlook this. England had just beaten Ireland in their round of 16 games which did little to help Anglo-Irish relations. Sinn Fein had just won a landslide majority in the Irish parliament and there were rumours of further conflict over the North where the situation had deteriorated since brexit.

  “Did you see the Ireland game?” Brian asked.

  “No, I didn’t,” Jim admitted.

  “We looked very good; I think we’ll go all the way.”

  “It won’t help the border situation.”

  “It would have been even worse if they’d beaten us.”

  “I hear Roberts is flooding Ulster with troops.”

  “We’ve got Spain in the quarters; they’re calling it the battle of the fish stocks.”

  Jim winced; he was sure Roberts was using this sporting patriotism to whip the public into a frenzy over his disputes with Europe. With the public watching England, the police have clamped down on foreigner baiting for a while, but Jim wondered what might happen once the Championships are over. Supporters covered the country with Unity flags, and the symbol was even on the players’ shirts.

  “Do you think the Irish will invade?” Brian asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What about the Spanish?”

  “It’s possible that after Vox secured a majority, they might move on Gibraltar, but who knows? It depends on what happens in the Atlantic and the North Sea. I think they’re preoccupied with the fighting in the Basque and Catalonian regions.”

  “Jon was telling me they are closing your old department at the university,” said Brian.

  “That’s right, and Wu suffered a stroke.”

  “Wu?”

  “He was one of my colleagues, only 47.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “He has foreign heritage and his wife is foreign.”

  Brian shook his head.

  “Many of my colleagues have moved abroad.”

  “I’m not surprised. I read on one of the news sites, only today, a headline: ‘Those who fight foreigners, wrestle with devils’. Did you know there used to be over 70 news sites in the UK and 12 national media outlets, I did some research. Now there are only seven.”

  “And we are always being told how important it is to read the news sites.” Jim felt it was time to change the subject. “You know, we’ve had shortages here in the village, they’ve been queuing in the general store. Has it affected you?”

  “It’s the same in the city. What with the trade disputes and the cost of imports. There’s already talk of more rationing. What I’ve noticed, though, is the amount of homeless people on the streets, they seem to be everywhere.”

  “We’re thinking of getting some chickens for eggs and maybe some goats, for milk.”

  “You’re vegetarian, aren’t you?”

  “That’s right, we wouldn’t eat them. It would just be for the milk and eggs.”

  “Splendid idea. Do you have any trouble in the village?”

  “No, the kids are all in Young Unity, though we’ve avoided Olivia joining, but the adults treat us well. I’ve even made a friend in the local pub. I have more problems on the rare occasions I venture into the city. Even the library told me I could no longer use their reading room.”

  “But you are managing?”

  “For the moment. We’ve been considering trying to take a mortgage out on this place to get by, but I’m not sure anyone will give us the finance. No-one lends to those with foreign heritage.”

  Brian’s expression suggested it didn’t surprise him.

  “The council gave us some problems with planning permission and, just recently, they complained about the state of our garden.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  Jim shrugged.

  “We’ve been growing trees to shelter the property,” he said. “No-one comes up here anyway, but the council officer is a party member and wants to cause trouble.”

  “The people need an enemy, at the moment it’s the foreigners, later it will be something else. Meanwhile, Roberts tells everyone they’ve never had it so good and they believe him.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two – 14 years 2 months before the collapse

  Jim stood embarrassed as he endured having ‘Happy Birthday’ sung to him, loudest of all was Olivia who helped to cut the cake.

  “It’s so good of you to come,” he said to Carter and Mia, handing them their slices. “Thanks for making the effort. It was such a surprise.”

  “Well, I’m a temporary man of leisure,” said Carter. “They removed me from my position at the factory because of my foreign heritage.”

  “What factory?”

  “Yes, it’s been a long time. Anyway, I’m not too upset about it because I owed the factory more money and my removal relieved me of those debts. I thought you’d have moved abroad by now.”

  “I can’t leave my country, Carter.”

  “Even if your country hates you?”

  “At least they hate the Spanish and the Irish more.”

  “And yet there are so many of us in Spain.”
>
  “But for how long? They already consider them traitors.”

  “That is for the Commission on Foreigners to decide. Roberts is in talks with both Ireland and Spain.”

  “Enough of politics, Carter. How are you?”

  “Not bad. My kidney is giving me minor trouble, but apart from that I can’t complain.”

  “Be careful with your kidneys.”

  “It’ll take more than a little kidney to defeat me, Jim. How about you?”

  “I’m okay, but Garcia, who built this house, died of some disease or other.”

  “Monkey flu?”

  “Could be, he’s had Alzheimer’s for a while. He was 71. And there was a council officer here, a member of the party. He kept sending me letters about the ‘disgraceful nature’ of my garden. He committed suicide?”

  “Because of your garden?”

  “I wish. Rumour has it they forced him to do it.”

  “Yikes.”

  “Who says yikes anymore?”

  “I do.”

  *

  Jim and Annabel stayed at home to ‘experience’ the speeches on the fourth anniversary of Unity assuming power. They had ordered all the shops to close and, as it was cold outside, they tried to entertain Olivia with games indoors.

  First up was Anderson, explaining how, under the alternative system, the real sovereigns were the people. Roberts focussed on the party’s reform of the school system. They will abandon the upper sixth, releasing students into the employment arena a year earlier and they will phase out foreign languages - everyone speaks English, anyway.

  “Foresight guides us,” Roberts said in his most evangelical tones. “We act according to the will of the Almighty. No-one can make national or world history without the blessing of this foresight.”

  He also spoke of the superiority of the British armed forces, which Jim took as a warning to anyone in Europe, in particular Ireland and Spain, against trying anything.

  “Europe does not want war,” said Annabel.

  Roberts launched into a diatribe against the morally and intellectually inferior foreigners who “are not welcome in our country”.

  “The radical left wants to abolish the BIA[5],” he continued. “Our talented people from the BIA who deport the roughest, toughest, meanest people that you’ve ever seen or ever heard. When they have lots of tattoos on their face, they’re not looking to do you much help. BIA, they’re tough guys. They get rid of murderers. They get rid of rapists. They get rid of the worst scum on earth. The chaos you’re seeing in our cities, because of immigrants and the radical left, is what will happen in every city and community, and much, much worse if we don’t keep them out. We have to do this. Price voted for mass amnesty for illegal aliens. Price supported sanctuary cities and now Price wants to end immigration enforcement and Price wants to require you to provide free healthcare for millions and millions of illegal aliens.”

  But Roberts had saved the best for last.

  “Since the Norman conquest, they have taken the land from us. It is time to take that land back and give it to the descendants of Brutus. It is this government’s plan that we will all own our land. Our great land reform act will transfer freehold titles to a new land’s trust we are going to establish. Transitional arrangements will allow current owners lifelong free leases. We will rent the land as commercial zones and social zones through a system of annual bids which will establish market value and rent. A virtual bidding room will allow anyone to pay a higher annual rent than its existing occupier.”

  Jim and Annabel weren’t exactly sure what Robert’s speech meant, but it sounded a lot like appropriation of property. For someone who allegedly hated socialists, it sounded like a very socialist thing to do.

  When the speeches ended, the news contained the details of the latest indecency scandal engulfing the church. Jim couldn’t help wondering if its prominence was related to recent criticism of the Government by the Archbishop of Canterbury. Regardless, vicars were being arrested all over the country.

  Lunch comprised what little produce Annabel had preserved from the garden, and Jim worried that their health would suffer if they did not eat better. Annabel had lost a lot of weight.

  Jim had received another email from the council complaining about his garden and threatening action. The death of the official had not been the end of the matter. Perhaps someone in the village was making complaints. The local news was rife with rumours that the council officer had been involved in embezzlement or bribery.

  “Now it is the garden,” he complained to Annabel. “And if I pay for the compulsory professional gardening, they are threatening, then it will be something about the house next.”

  In the afternoon, a council inspector arrived.

  “Look, we have cut everything back,” said Jim, giving the inspector a tour of the garden.

  The inspector stooped down and surveyed the ground.

  “There are still weeds, here, here and here. I have to report that. They will send workers. This is a preservation area, you know. All houses must fit in with the street and landscape.”

  “What do you want me to do? You can’t even see my garden from the street.” asked Jim.

  “They will send you the bill.”

  “Where am I supposed to get the money from? They have thrown me out of my job.”

  “Oh, you have foreign heritage, do you? I’m sorry, but if I report anything other than there are weeds, then a senior inspector will come, and I’ll lose my job.”

  “What next?” Jim complained to Annabel when the inspector had gone. “All the houses around here have slate roofs, ours is fibre cement. What if they make us re-roof our house?”

  No sooner had the inspector left than it rained.

  “I think I’m coming down with the flu,” said Annabel.

  *

  Despite feeling under the weather, Annabel and Jim made the effort to wander down to the village with Olivia to watch the bonfire and fireworks display. They observed the effigies of various European and other world leaders being burned in the fire, accompanied by great cheers from the crowd. Olivia was no longer scared by fireworks as she had been when she was younger.

  The policy of escorting boats of refugees back to the French, German, Dutch and Belgian coasts has caused a deterioration in relations with more European nations, disgruntled by Britain’s refusal to take what they see as its fair share in the escalating refugee crisis.

  In Manchester, an exhibition opened entitled ‘The Eternal Foreigner’ which questioned the foreigner’s right to be cared for by the state and society. Only earlier that day Anderson had made a speech about ‘weeding out’ the foreigner.

  *

  Jim, Carter and Mark sat in the White Harte watching the news on the big stretch.

  “Just the annual bush fires, floods, draught, and famine in Africa,” said Carter.

  Carter had come to say goodbye. He was being held accountable for the debts to his previous employer and was leaving for the US where he had found a job.

  Roberts came on the news claiming an economic upturn and blaming the previous ‘mistakes and crimes’ on the previous government.

  “You know the worst part of this?,” Jim said to Carter while Mark was at the bar buying another round of drinks. “Even if Roberts is overthrown and replaced by something else, I will always feel like I don’t belong here anymore. I can trust no one in Britain anymore.”

  Roberts’ speech was part of a ceremony in which he was presenting Field Marshall Wilson with a gold-tipped ceremonial baton. As an ‘and finally’ item on the news, the presenter announced that an Irish trawler has sunk near Rockall.

  “A British naval vessel was in the area but there has been no confirmation, as yet, whether the trawler was illegally fishing or whether the sinking involved the British naval vessel. The Royal Navy has confirmed that they rescued the crew of the trawler and are taking care of them on board the patrol boat.”

  “Jesus!” said Carter. “Th
ings will really kick off now.”

  “Why?” asked Mark, returning with the drinks.

  “The Irish don’t recognise Rockall as British. If the British Navy has sunk their boat, they will not be very pleased about it.”

  When they had finished their drinks, they left the pub and Jim said a long goodbye to Carter and a ‘see you’ soon to Mark.

  As he approached the end of the track, he noticed posters stuck to his fence.

  They were in Unity colours and had ‘Foreigners Go Home’ printed in large letters. Jim ripped the posters off the fence and marched into the house, where he swapped them with Annabel for a letter she said had arrived that afternoon.

  “Oh, my God. What’s this?” she read the posters as Jim tore open the letter.

  “Unfuckingbelievable,” he said after he had read the letter a second time.

  “What is it?”

  “Asher. He said the mortgage payment arrived in his account a week late. He’s threatening legal action and giving us a precautionary notice of foreclosure. There’s not even a greeting.”

  Jim slumped on the sofa.

  “Roberts is so clever,” he said at last. “How deeply rooted his ideas have become in the British people, how well prepared they are for his ideas, how long have I deceived myself that I belonged to this country?”

  *

  Annabel and Jim awoke to the news that British troops had moved over the border and into the Republic to create a 16km wide buffer zone.

  “They proposed this before Brexit and everyone laughed,” said Jim. “Now Roberts has enforced it and they will have another bloody referendum on it. We have a referendum every other year about some bloody thing or another.”

  “That’s why Anderson says their system is democratic,” said Annabel. “Because the people get to vote on everything.”

  “Except Scottish independence and Irish unification. But no-one believes the ballot is secret, so what’s the point?”

  Jim reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing it to Annabel. “Check the results.”

  “A lottery ticket?”

  Annabel pulled out her stretch and found the site.

  “Jim! We’ve got four numbers.”