Clive Cook looked up. Clive shook his head. He said, ‘Fuck —’
Terry put his finger to his lips again. He said, ‘Walls have ears, Comrade.’
Clive shook his head. He got his coat. He followed Terry down the stairs –
Clive and Terry went for a walk. They found a bench in the sun.
Clive said, ‘Me and Gareth have been talking. We’re worried …’
‘What about?’
Clive sighed. He said, ‘The money. What do you think we’re worried about?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Terry. ‘The strike? The hardship? The legal issues …’
Clive said, ‘People are beginning to ask questions.’
‘And that’s exactly why we’ve done what we’ve done,’ said Terry.
Clive said, ‘These are our own people asking the questions. Not just Bill Reed.’
‘Let them ask.’
Clive held out his hands. Clive said, ‘So what do we tell them?’
‘You tell them to ask me,’ said Terry. ‘That’s what you tell them.’
‘The President knows what we’re doing?’ asked Clive. ‘Supports us?’
Terry leant into his face. He said, ‘Who got Bill Reed off your back, Comrade?’
‘But who put him on my back in the first —’
Terry poked Clive in his chest. Terry said, ‘Who? Who was it, Comrade?’
Clive Cook closed his eyes. Clive Cook nodded.
Terry stood up. Terry said, ‘The battle hasn’t even begun yet, Comrade.’
Clive opened his eyes. Clive looked up at Terry. Clive said nothing.
‘They’re laying traps,’ said Terry. ‘Setting out the bait. But I’m ready for them.’
Clive stood up now. Clive sighed. Clive said, ‘I really fucking hope you are.’
‘Trust me,’ said Terry Winters, his hand on Clive Cook. ‘Trust me, Comrade.’
Clive shook Terry off. Clive headed back to the office.
Terry watched him go. Terry banged his head against the trunk of a tree –
The stupid things he said.
Go, go, go, go, go —
‘We are on target for more and more conflict.’
Edinburgh down to Sheffield. Sheffield out to Rotherham –
The Clifton Park Hotel, Rotherham —
Cole said, ‘This is the place the press have been using for Orgreave.’
‘Place is tidy, then?‘Malcolm asked him.
Cole flicked through the notes on his lap. He said, ‘Bar the Conference Suite.’
Fuck. Malcolm looked at his watch. He put his foot down —
Go, go, go, go —
Car park.
Go, go, go —
Reception. Register. Key. Twin room for one night.
Go, go –
Lift. Corridor. Door. Key. Door open. Room.
Go —
Bed stripped. Linen in the bath. Cases open. Floor plans out. Headphones on —
Malcolm looked at his watch.
Go. Door. Corridor. Keys out. Inside —
Malcolm looked at his watch.
Plant one. Plant two. Plant three. Plant four —
Grid one in place. Test signal to first receiver. Check —
Malcolm looked at his watch.
Plant five. Plant six. Plant seven. Plant eight –
Grid two in place. Test signal to second receiver. Check —
Malcolm looked at his watch.
Toilet –
Plant nine. Plant ten —
Ante-room —
Plant eleven. Plant twelve —
Grid three in place. Test signal to third receiver. Check –
Malcolm looked at his watch.
Outside. Corridor —
Plant thirteen. Plant fourteen. Plant fifteen. Plant sixteen —
Grid four in place. Test signal to fourth receiver. Check —
Malcolm looked at his watch.
Go out —
Out, out, out —
Past the Board and the Union in the corridor. Room service —
‘I would not trust him if he told me the time of day.’
And Malcolm Morris was gone –
Back to their twin room. Cole with the cases open. Headphones on. Thumb up —
Tapes turning. Static. Recording –
The sounds of bags being unpacked. Chairs scraping. Voices:
‘— just at the outset, that the train leaves at —’
‘— kindly address all your questions to the President —’
Silence. Static –
Malcolm touched his headphones. Watched dials. Checked levels. Equipment —
For ten minutes. Static. Silence. Then:
‘— our membership, we ask for the withdrawal of pit closures and job losses —’
‘— nope.’
Chairs scraped. Bags packed. Doors opened. Slammed shut —
Static. Silence. Tapes ending —
Silence.
Cole looked at Malcolm. Malcolm looked at Cole. They shrugged their shoulders. Tookoff their headphones. Packed their bags—
Boxed tapes for drop boxes. Cole the cleaner for today. Malcolm off the clock –
He drove home. Radio off. Silence. He put the car in the garage. He went inside —
The house quiet, but not quiet enough.
Malcolm drew the curtains. He sat down on the sofa. He rolled two large pieces of cotton wool into two small balls. Placed them deep inside his ears. Hewrapped his headin bandages. Heclosed his eyes –
Silence. Sleep. Dreamless sleep. Silent sleep —
Dull sleep. Dying sleep. Dying silence. Dull noise —
The telephone ringing –
Malcolm Morris opened his eyes. He unwrapped the bandages. Took out the cotton-wool balls.
He pressed buttons. Picked up the telephone —
‘Late night?’ asked Roger Vaughan.
Malcolm sat up. He double-checked —
The wheels were turning. Wheels within wheels. The tapes recording.
Malcolm said, ‘Aren’t they all?’
‘We’ve got a shopping list for you.’
‘How many?’
‘Watches, not radios,’ said Roger. ‘Two, if you have them?’
‘Presents, are they?’
‘Birthday.’
‘What colour wrapping-paper do you want?’
‘Green.’
‘For when?’
‘As soon as you can.’
‘I’ll be in touch.’
‘Good man,’ said Roger. ‘Jerry and I will be waiting.’
Malcolm hung up. He stopped the recording. Pressed rewind. Stop. Play —