Peter

one, he said. Might be last one – You just behave yourself, I told him. He laughed. He said, Be telling that to tit-heads and all, will you? That’s what I mean, I said. Just watch yourself. They’ll be thinking it might be last one and all. He nodded and we went inside. Lads started to arrive. Big Chris. Kev. Tim. Gary. John from Top. Fair few faces I hadn’t seen for a while – Little Mick. Paul Thompson. His Daniel. Graham from Crescent – Last bloody man still out on that street. Best way to let folk know I’m not a fucking scab, he said – Lads all wanting to know what was going on down in London with talks. Not much news in first papers or on radio – Did a quick count of heads. Made sure cars were all full. Brass sorted out. Rang round for them that had overlaid. Click-click – Then off we set. Damp and dark as usual. Radio on as we drove. Bit of music to cheer us up – Nellie the Elephant. Russ bleeding Abbot – Big Chris telling us all jokes he could remember from time he’d seen Black Abbots at Filey. Least it got us to Cortonwood with a smile on our faces. Coppers must have thought we were on happy pills – Lot of them waiting. Krk-krk. Transits and Land-Rovers. Mesh across their windows. Line of police with long shields out across road – Knew we were coming, of course. Knew how many by looks of things, too – Lot of us, though. Three thousand – Three thousand men. One bloody message – No Surrender. Made our point and all – In every face. In every stare. In every shove. In every shout – The Miners. United – Will never be defeated. Maggie, Maggie, Maggie – Out! Out! Out! – Fuck. Keith called round ours on Thursday night. He said, They’re restarting production at Kiveton tomorrow – I know, I said. It’s all over telly – What’s going on, Pete? I don’t know, I said. I’d no idea – No idea what to tell him. Tell anyone – Talks had collapsed. Thatcher had asked for all kinds of written preconditions. Board telling miners to vote with their feet. Looked to be no way out of this for us. Not now – My stomach knotted each time I went down Welfare. I dreaded it – Faces. Questions. Looks. Comments – Kev Shaw sat down. Pete, he said. I’ve got something to say – I know what you’re going to say, I told him. It’s all round village – He nodded. He said, It’s right and all – I shook my head. I said, So don’t waste your breath and my time – Look, he said, you’ve always been right with me and I want to be right with you – Then don’t start scabbing, I said. Not now – He looked at me. He said, I’m going back Monday. Nothing will make me change my mind. I’ve had enough abuse before I’ve even set foot in place. But I’ve seen my kids go without for too long. Wife trying to feed us all on a fiver a week and I’ve had it up to here, Pete. You’ve been decent and you’ve helped us with bills and what-have-you and I’ve no complaints about you and branch. But I’m off back to work on Monday. Come-what-may – Kev, I said. What do you want me to say? You want some kind of bloody dispensation – I’ve done my time, he said. I’ve been on more pickets than most. I nodded. That you have, I said. And now you’re going to piss it all down drain and be known for rest of your life as a scab. He looked away then – First time since he sat down. His eyes didn’t meet mine – This is going to end, I told him. Not going to go on much longer. Might even be over by Tuesday and you’d have scabbed for just twenty-four hour out of eleven month. He looked up. I shook my head. I said, Twenty-four hour, that might be all you’d have scabbed. But for rest of your life you’d be known as Kev the Scab and your kids as the children of Kev the Scab. He looked away again. Down at floor again. I said, You want to be like one of them old blokes that can only have a pint in Sheffield? Places where no one knows he was a scab sixty year ago. You’ve seen that one up at top end. Out by bus stop in all weathers? Kev nodded. You know he was a scab? Kev nodded again. You know how many days he scabbed back then? Kev shook his head. He looked at me. I said, Me neither. That’s my point – it doesn’t matter whether he scabbed through whole strike or just last bloody day – He was a scab then and he’s a scab now – Kev had his eyes closed. He nodded – I leant forward. I put my