by Carl Andrew
The sound, along with his nerves for the impending date and trepidation of being in the city for the first time in a long time, spooked him and he dropped his wallet.
He watched with horror as it fell, along with what felt like his hopes and dreams, towards a drain at the edge of the road just by the kerb.
It happened in slow motion. His wallet continued its descent and for a split second, he thought it was going to miss. But as luck would have it, he saw it nestle snuggly through the grate and into the depths of whatever was beneath the metallic trapdoor.
He stood there motionless for what felt like an age. All he could think of was that he had a date with the girl of his dreams and he had no money.
He couldn’t go home now because he’d be late for her. He stupidly hadn’t plucked the courage up to ask for her mobile number so couldn’t contact her.
He pictured himself as a laughing stock at college the next day if he went to the bar and told her he had no money for the evening.
Just imagine if she was forced to pay for everything tonight, he thought to himself and it made him shudder.
The emotion of the situation got the better of him and he felt a tear weave its way down his cheek. He could feel it turn cold against his skin as it greeted the cool autumn evening air.
His knees collapsed below him and he sat down on the kerb with his head in his hands. Tears were falling uncontrollably now and he began to sob.
This must be what hell feels like; his thoughts continued their silent conversation with his conscience.
A woman walked past and stopped when she saw the boy crying. A few weeks ago, no one would have cared about a person they didn’t know in the city. Such was the fear that gripped this place.
But the woman stopped. She was three weeks older than the woman she used to be who wouldn’t have stopped; but so much had changed in that time.
She wanted to help. That was what had happened in cities like Dundee up and down the British Isles. People stopped and people cared again.
The woman tapped the boy on the shoulder.
“Are you ok? What’s wrong?” She said.
All he could utter were the words ‘wallet’ and ‘drain’.
She could piece the issue together based on those few clues.
“Oh dear,” She said. “Are you off anywhere nice?” She had genuine concern in her voice.
He told her the story of the girl, of the date. He told her how he wanted to pay. How it was the right thing to do. How his mum had always taught him that.
By this point a crowd of a dozen or so people had gathered. She relayed the story to them and then reached inside her bag to take out a crisp £10 note from her purse.
She folded it and gave it to the boy. He accepted it with thanks. The other people who had stopped and listened saw this kind act.
Some also reached into their wallets and purses to present the boy with money.
An act of kindness such as this was not Dundee’s alone. This was the new UK and people cared for each other again.
The boy was so taken aback; he requested the phone numbers of each person who presented him with money. He promised to return their cash.
Once all the numbers were stored in his phone, he checked his watch and made his way to his date.
Each person who stopped to help were given an even bigger gift than the boy that evening. They were given a gift of happiness and contentment. They had helped a stranger. It was a beautiful feeling.
Before the boy’s second date with the girl of his dreams, he had taken it upon himself to personally pay back every penny to each helper.
That was the story of Dundee but it could have been Chelmsford, Exeter, Cardiff or anywhere in Great Britain.
Chapter 25:
Mid December - 10 Downing Street, London
David Lawson had been Prime Minister for around 18 months.
His time in power had been filled with so many positives and negatives that one journalist had referred to him as the Andes Prime Minister, the World’s longest mountain range, on account of all the peaks and troughs he’d overseen.
However, his was a Prime Ministership in the ascendancy and the polls reflected this.
Over the last six months, his popularity had been steadily on the rise. That was primarily due to the Anti-Social Behaviour Act which was quickly becoming the legacy of his Government.
As he sat and read the daily newspapers while sipping on a cup of tea, he allowed himself a smile when he saw approval ratings numbering in the 60 and 70 percentile.
Rarely had a Prime Minister enjoyed such a positive response from the public.
I’m beginning to enjoy this job, he thought to himself.
He finished his breakfast and readied himself for the morning meeting with Russell.
A knock at the door signalled his arrival.
“Morning, what have you got for me?”
“Morning David, we’ve just got the figures in from the third quarter since the Anti-Social Behaviour Act came into being,” Russell said.
“I thought we could go through them and see what we want to release to the media.”
“Of course, how does it read?” David enquired eager to continue the positive start to the morning.
“At first glance, it’s… well it’s really quite remarkable,” Russell responded enthusiastically.
“What do you mean remarkable?” David was intrigued.
“Well, as you know we asked the research team to look at the number of instances where the Behaviour Charge and Behaviour Discount have occurred. We broke this out regionally and looked at trends over time.”
“So, taking into account that the Behaviour Discount has been in force for just three months, the number of occurrences of its use have far outstripped the Behaviour Charge.”
Russell was getting increasingly excited as he spoke, eyes wide, eager to get on to the next word yet so impatient that words started forming into one.
“What that means is that people are actually choosing to act or think for good as opposed to bad.”
“Furthermore, anecdotal evidence taken from social media posts and speaking to people on the street shows a significant increase in things like community days starting up and people commenting on good driving behaviour as opposed to road rage.”
“Essentially, this demonstrates that it’s working. Our plan is working.”
“Russell, that’s excellent news,” David said. “I have to admit that I didn’t believe we could get to where we are in such a short space of time.”
“That’s a credit to you and your team Russell. Well done.”
“And Vanessa, she played a significant part in this too David,” Russell interjected, regretting instantly his decision to do so.
The relationship between David and Vanessa was still strained.
Russell still sensed some awkwardness whenever he brought up Vanessa’s name. It was a troubling situation.
“Of course, and Vanessa,” David replied, dryly.
“What’s your recommendation for getting this out there?” David asked eager to move on to a new topic of discussion.
“I’ve been giving that some thought and I’ve worked with Vanessa on a strategy. We’re going to announce this at a press conference held at one of the new community days.”
“We’ll invite the organisers of the day to speak about the project and reveal the results there,” Russell said.
“I like it, I think that’s a solid plan. Well, keep me up to speed, thanks Russell.”
That was David’s cue for Russell to leave his office and Russell duly obliged.
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A couple of weeks later – A Community Day, Winnersh, Berkshire
Leon took the train from London Paddington to Winnersh. There were still a few days to go before Christmas and this was exemplified in the red cheeked faces of smiling children he passed as he made his journey.
There was so
mething magical about this time of year. You could sense the nervousness and excitement clouding people’s anticipation.
Frost precariously balanced on the very tips of trees and bushes presenting a picture postcard of the festive season.
It was as if the scene had been created by Dickens’ himself.
Leon loved hearing the Salvation Army band playing familiar carols, decorations on houses and in shops along with the need to wrap up warm when the cold crisp days hit.
It was the only time of year that allowed him a brief memory-filled sojourn in his childhood.
He smiled as the family occasions played out in his mind. He thought of his dad and Christmas dinner. He thought of play fights with his brothers and drinking alcohol well ahead of the legal age.
It made him warm. It gave him the glow to get through the icy wind.
There was something else becoming apparent to Leon also. Perhaps it was just the feeling of Christmas but he could swear that people were more polite to each other on the streets.
He saw them smiling and greeting each other, holding doors open in shops for strangers. Someone moved their bag on the train so he could have a seat. It was strange, unusual yet positive.
He considered whether it was due to the effects of the Anti-Social Behaviour Act and the Behaviour Charge.
His coverage of violent interludes had dramatically decreased. Even the video clips and photos posted to the ‘State of Hate’ website had slowed to nothing more than a trickle.
He sensed optimism in people and in himself. At this time of year in particular, that feeling was apt. The turning of the year was upon them and he couldn’t help thinking that the future of Britain looked bright.
He turned his attention to the task at hand. He had been invited to attend a Community Day by Vanessa. It was all part of an announcement by Minister Brooks and Leon found himself intrigued.
The train pulled in to Winnersh Station. It was quiet and just a handful of people alighted.
He walked along the road following the printed map he was clutching in his increasingly numb fingers. Stopping to blow them warm, he noticed a sign for the Community Day ahead.
He looked around him and considered the weather again. If there hadn’t have been involvement from the Government, he couldn’t imagine anyone organising a Community Day this close to Christmas.
With a sense he was walking into an advertisement for the Department of Social Behaviour, he strode forward in the direction a blue arrow drawn in crayon was instructing.
Entering the building, he saw activities taking place in all corners of the room. Smiling faces of adults and children filled his vision.
These community days had been growing in number over the last month or two. As people started to feel more confident and safe in their towns and cities, they came together almost in a display of ownership over their local areas.
Leon realised that both he and Abby had been so busy with the blog that they hadn’t actually engaged with their own communities.
It seemed almost inappropriate that he should initially find time to engage with another. It was as if he was cheating on his neighbours.
But here he was in a room full of strangers all trying to become acquaintances and, eventually, friends.
He spotted Vanessa and nodded hello before walking over to her.
“How are you? Have you tried your hand at drawing yet?” He said gesturing over to a kids craft table.
“Did you not see my signs as you came in? I did those this morning. I think my crayon skills have vastly improved,” Vanessa responded in jest.
“How’s Abby going?” She continued.
“She’s good. We’re busy but looking forward to Christmas. I haven’t seen you around for a while though. Are they resting you ahead of future crisis situations?” Leon said reciprocating her joking nature.
Vanessa took a moment longer than expected to respond and Leon sensed uneasiness about her.
“No, just letting others grab the limelight for a change,” she said in a poor attempt at a cover up.
“Oh, of course, it must be quite political in Politics,” he spoke brashly, trying to continue the joviality.
“You could say that,” Vanessa replied again not giving much away. “We’ll be starting in a few moments through the room over there,” she said pointing slightly ahead and to the right towards a doorway.
“I should go and check on the setup. In the meantime, why don’t you go and give the glitter and glue pictures a try. I can see you want to,” she smiled as she spoke making her excuses to leave.
Leon smiled back and wondered around the room taking in the scene of people getting on with each other in a social setting away from their homes.
Such a normal pursuit that had been missing for such a long time, he thought to himself.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that Vanessa was hiding something but it wasn’t something he wanted any involvement in. He had enough to deal with.
After a few minutes he was called into the media room along with other attending journalists.
He sat down and waited for things to commence. He had his notepad out at the ready, pen in hand.
Russell came up to the podium and introduced proceedings.
“Hello everyone and thank you for joining us today, I appreciate its cold out and you could all be sitting near a roaring fire somewhere so, again, thank you for coming along.”
“Today, I wanted to provide an update on the Anti-Social Behaviour Act nine months after it came into being. My department has undertaken some research into behavioural trends and the results I’ll share with you come from that.”
“First though, I’d like to introduce Brian Thompson who is head of the Winnersh Community Association. Brian kindly set up the event today and he’ll talk to you about what the association does and what the Act means to people in this community.”
Russell extended his arm to invite the corduroy trouser wearing Brian to the podium.
A nervous, balding man of about 55 years old shuffled up to Russell, almost missed the pre-planned handshake and adjusted the microphone sending a shrill screech out through the PA system as feedback took hold.
As if he wasn’t nervous enough, this almost sent him over the edge. Attempting to steady himself, he coughed into his hand and proceeded to talk about his community.
It was a classic political stunt to get across a point through a practical demonstration. Brian spoke well when he got into the swing of it but the majority of media were keen to hear from the Minister.
A photographer from the local paper snapped away at Brian on his day of fame.
The images captured would likely create the centre piece of a news article that, when framed, would command the Thompson family mantle place, above the fire, for years to come.
Finally, after about ten minutes of Brian and his life, Russell returned to the podium.
“Thank you Brian. I have to say you and your team are doing a fine job for the local community here. Well done,” Russell said looking at Brian, attempting to be as genuine as possible.
He turned back to the audience, paused for a moment to change the mood of the room and then spoke with a considered tone.
“What you see here today is happening up and down the country. People who lived metres from each other are meeting for the first time as the public start to reclaim their streets and enjoy being part of their communities.”
“That’s certainly echoed through the stories and anecdotes being shared on social media and in conversations my team and I are having with voters.”
“We’re hearing about charities welcoming more volunteers, restaurants full to the brim on week nights and pensioners enjoying their town centres at night.”
“We’re seeing litter dramatically reduced with vandalism and fly tipping as an oddity instead of the norm. The positive change in people’s behaviour is remarkable given the short timeframes involved.”
Russell spoke precisely, slowly an
d allowed pauses to drive home his words. The media were scribbling feverishly.
“Our research certainly supports this. On average a staggering 82% of people have chosen to take the liquid chips. That’s above the targets we initially set.”
“Although the Behaviour Discount has only been in operation for a short while, we have seen it outstrip the Behaviour Charge 2 to 1 according to retail figures.”
“Furthermore, incidents of the Behaviour Charge have reduced month on month by an average of 15%. This shows that people have started to change their behaviour.”
Russell spoke for another ten minutes providing statistic after statistic to emphasise his point but the attending media were already convinced. The evidence was in their own communities, on their own streets and near their workplaces.
The UK felt safer. The policy was working.
Whether it was just because of the cold and the journalists wanting to get home sooner, it was noticeable that the questions from the media at the end of Russell’s presentation were fewer.
Those that were asked were not as cynical in nature as they had previously been.
When the press conference ended and the room emptied, Russell smiled to himself. He was looking forward to enjoying a Christmas period filled with positivity and optimism. That had seemed a distant dream when the year began.
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Finsbury Park, London
It was 2am, Leon’s phone rang and that was never a good sign. It woke him instantly and, with trepidation, he searched in the dark for it.
His eyes adjusted and he saw the light of the screen guiding him.
It was a Bolton number, although one he didn’t recognise. He felt his heart pound.
“Hello, Leon speaking,” he said, trying to maintain an air of calm. His brain was trying to convince him it could be anyone on the phone. His heart had already decided it was about his dad.
“Leon, it’s Ally,” his brother’s voice trembled as he spoke. On this occasion, Leon’s heart was right.
