Chapter 19 in the serialisation of the book 'Insurrection' 4th book in the 'Corpalism' series

19

Where there is only a choice between cowardice and violence, I would advise violence.
Mahatma Gandhi

"That went well, didn't it?" Alb was stretched out on his sofa, feet up, book laying open across his stomach, slippers on, completely relaxed.

The shed had cleared quicker than even Wilf had dared hope, shoving as he did from behind, screaming ‘rats’ every time anyone looked like slowing down. The 'ladies first' concept had gone out the window yet despite this Val had made sure she was out in record time. Miraculously no-one had been seriously hurt in the stampede, although the same couldn't be said for the deckchair and some of Jonesey's vegetables. Mags had retained her dignity, helping Johnno to his feet and allowing him to lean on her as they followed the trail of destruction.
Alb and Gerry had been last to leave, making desultory efforts to clear up although how you could make a shed full of tat look anything other than abandoned it was hard to see.

"I thought it did, yes," Gerry looked no less comfortable than Alb, installed as he was in a reclining wing armchair with his feet on a pouffé, a leather one this time rather than the velvet brocade Ken favoured.

"Kill a banker, has a certain ring to it..." Alb murmured.

"Has indeed..." Gerry was slipping to sleep, eyes closing, breathing slowing.

"Perhaps it was Suez," said Alb, his voice suddenly loud, alert. "What do you think? I think we lost a lot of credibility in the world with that little fiasco and it made us look weak in front of the kids."

Gerry pulled himself back from the brink of sleep with difficulty. Alb wanted to talk so talk they would. "What about Northern Ireland?" he offered, adjusting the recliner to make conversation easier, “What with all the rioting an' that... that would've unsettled kids as well."

"How so?" Alb was intrigued.

"Well, watching a bunch of Irish Catholic thugs throwing stones at our troops, made the army look
powerless, not good for morale. Lenny talks about it a lot from when he was over there, and I always felt it had a negative effect on people, probably lead to all that mods and rockers stuff."

"See your point," said Alb, "first steps in destroying our national pride. Should've let us smash the bastards, invade the Republic."

"Exactly," said Gerry, "if it'd been Israel or America they'd have invaded."

"Of course they would," said Alb, "hell, if it'd been Israel they'd have bombed Dublin."

"America would've dropped the Bomb," said Gerry, escalating happily.

Alb frowned, "It's our bloody leaders who're soft on foreign policy. I thought they were meant to protect the nation. That's where Thatcher did us proud though, she sure showed them Argies."

"Damn right," said Gerry, comfortably, "put us back on the map."

"But now, it's like we don't have a society anymore," said Alb.

"Well, it was Maggie that said there was no such thing," Gerry reminded him.

"Yeah I know, but there used to be, didn't there."

They fell silent for a while, in contemplation, Gerry just drifting back to sleep when Alb spoke again, "Greed, foreigners, Common Market, recession, TV, gay marriage...take your pick."

Gerry was instantly awake and angry, "Gay - hah! I can still remember what that word used to mean."

"It's as if they've actively been working on the destruction of our values," said Alb, his tone matching the despair of his words, "they've destroyed the social shape of the nation."

"I swear they'll wipe us from the map, and then they'll rewrite history so we never even existed," said Gerry, who, as always when he became agitated for any length of time, felt his face growing tight as it reddened alarmingly, his heart thumping.

"They're doing it already," said Alb, "my son and his mates never learnt about British history, not about the empire, they did the Romans and the Tudors but when it got to the empire they skipped it and went onto American history, and that was just the history between the wars."

Gerry was quiet, making a deliberate effort to slow down his responses, calm his racing heart.

He noted Alb’s reference to Colin, his only child, but didn’t pick up on it. The boy had broken Alb’s heart a long time ago, emigrated, and to Germany of all places and Gerry had no time for him.

"Colin went on about it at the time," said Alb, "he was into military history and was disappointed when they didn't do the 18th and 19th centuries, wanted me to write a letter of complaint."

"Did you?" Gerry was curious, having not heard the tale before.

"No, should've done now I think back on it, just didn't think it mattered that much at the time."

"Probably wouldn't have made any difference," offered Gerry, still maintaining his study in calm.

"It's not just that, Gerry, it's all the other stuff, the other things we let go, the things they did to us that we never argued against, always pushing us and we were always just giving way on them."

"Yeah, like taking us into the Common Market without asking us in the first place." Gerry's heart was back to normal, the high colour no longer infusing his face so he felt comfortable essaying a mild comment or two.

"And going metric, and bringing the West Indians and Punkawallahs in," said Alb.

"…and allowing the East Europeans in to take our jobs."

"You only have to watch the bloody adverts to get an idea of what I'm talking about," said Alb, "virtually every advert has a foreigner or a black in it, like they're everywhere, when they're not...these adverts aren't representative, they're biased."

"But I thought we said they’re everywhere, Alb, isn't that what this is all about?"

"Well yeah, they are everywhere," said Alb, "but there's not as many of them as they're trying to make us believe."

"Not with you," said Gerry, the need to sleep dragging down his eyelids.

"I'll make it simple - London is full of blacks, the Midlands full of Muslims and the South is full of East Europeans. They're told where to settle when they arrive, so they blanket the area, change the culture, religion and language of the place, like Southampton with all the mosques, and if you live in any of those places you're in the minority and powerless to change it. We're still the majority in the whole country but it doesn't feel like it."

"But why'd they do it, Alb? Why would they let it happen?"

"I don't know Gerry old mate," said Alb, "but I'm not
going to stand for it, if I have to I'll die trying to stop them."

Gerry nodded, no need for words, Alb knew where he stood.

"I've been too busy in my own little world, worried about god knows what, but now it's different, I can see clearly..."

Gerry waited for the next bit, knowing Alb there had to be a next bit but he was quiet for so long Gerry thought maybe he'd fallen asleep.

"....but then I could always see it, you know, Gerry, I always knew what was happening but I was either too lazy or too scared to do anything about it...”

"I know what you mean..."

"But not now, now I don't care what they say or do to me, I'm going to do something, I'm going to make them sit up and pay attention."

"Yeah," said Gerry, voice thick with sleep, "that's fighting talk, Albie, let's get them."

∞

Mags slipped out into the Rose Garden, checked no-one was nearby and pulled her mobile out of the pocket of her dress. She dialled the number from memory.

It rang once and was answered, a gruff "Hello," muttered by a voice she recognised immediately.

"It's me." Old habits die hard and maintaining anonymity still felt important.

Silence, then "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"I thought we'd agreed you wouldn't call this number ."

"We did," said Mags, refusing to let the cold tone throw her off track, "but I need your help."
Silence.

"Could you meet me at the 'Dog and Duck'? It’s the nearest pub I know."

"When?"

"Do you need direc....?”

"Not necessary," his voice held a hint of a smile, "I know where you are."

"Okay, lunch time, Wednesday?"

"Jusque-là" he said, hanging up.

It took her a moment to realise he’d agreed.

Cheers for reading

Arun







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