Peter

hand on his shoulder. I said, It’s not worth it. He nodded again. He opened his eyes. He sighed. He said, Will you have a word with wife for us? I nodded. He said, She’s going to go fucking mental. I nodded again. Be in good company then, I said – Deeper and deeper. Faster and faster – I look back up corridor. Water roaring down – I couldn’t get up. I lay there in bed as depressed and fucking down as I’d ever been in my whole life – There were over three hundred back at pit now. They had them washing coal. Yesterday morning these big lorries had come and picked up supplies for power stations in Trent Valley. Had a mass picket waiting for them. But they got in and out no bother. Just showed how low stocks must be for them, though. To have to be moving stuff from here – Fifteen big giant lorries. They were going to move whole fucking lot. All seven thousand tonnes of it – Oh aye, we’d stand there for rest of week. However long it was going to take them – We’d shout and we’d shove. We’d shove and we’d swear – But, fucking hell, I’d have liked to have seen them try to wash and move that stuff if we’d stayed solid – I knew then we could have won. Knew we could have beaten that bitch and all her fucking boot-boys. Her bullies in DHSS and media. Knew we could have beaten them and won because they would have run out of fucking coal – It was that bloody simple. It was that bloody depressing – I had nightmares every time I closed my eyes. Had nightmares every time I switched on TV. Every time I opened fridge. Every time I set foot in village. Every time I went into Welfare or up to Panel – Least bed was warm. Long as I didn’t let my eyes close. There was a tap on door. It was our Jackie with a cup of tea. It’s gone half-nine, she said. I nodded. I said, I know – What’s wrong with you? she asked. You on strike or something? – Get out of here, you cheeky cow, I said. I’ll get up when I’m good and bloody ready and not a moment before. She came over to bed and she give us a kiss on top of my head. Happy Valentine’s Day, she said. I’m a lucky man, I told her. I don’t deserve you and your mother – You don’t, she said. So you best get up before we kick you out. I went up Panel – High Court injunction against Yorkshire Area NUM now. Forbade picketing at eleven pits and limited all pickets to six men from pit itself – Last bloody straw, said Tom. Last bloody nail in coffin, said Johnny. That’s what it is and branches won’t abide by it – They have to, said David Rainer. They have to. I said, You know what this one lad said to me last week? He said, Pete – I used to hate them fucking scabs in Nottingham with all my heart. But you know what? If it hadn’t been for picketing them, I’d have had no brass. I’d have starved – No picket. No pay. No scabs. No scoff – Fucking starved without them. Listen to us all, said Dave. Like last bloody days of Third fucking Reich. It’s not over yet – But no one said anything. We just got up and went back to our branches to tell them they couldn’t even picket their own pit if there were more than six of them – I see a bloke behind us. Water almost on top of him – He was sat on our doorstep. Soaked through – Like a drowned rat. Shiv-ering, he was – I wanted to punch his fucking lights out. The fucking hell you been? I shouted. Been bloody worried sick about you – I’m sorry, he said. Cath went. House went. I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t face anyone – Bastard, I said. I had you dead at bottom of reservoir. Topped yourself – I’m sorry, he said again. I’ve got nowhere else to go – I opened front door. I stuck hall light on. He looked in a right state. I said, Where you bloody been? Doing bricklaying down in London. Bit in Southampton – Why didn’t you say something? I said again. Folk been worried sick about you – I’m sorry, he said. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want pity – Not pity when it’s mates, is it? I put fire on in front room and sat him down. I put kettle on and fetched him some clean clothes. Thank you, he said. Best stay here, I told him. Until you get yourself sorted out – Mary mind, will she? Probably, I said. But she won’t see you on street, will she? I left him to get changed. I made him a cup of tea and