Red Or Dead

by David Peace

  The players got back on the bus. Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan, Reuben Bennett, Ronnie Moran and Tom Saunders got back on the bus. And Bill got back on the bus. Bill still laughing, Bill still joking. All the way back to Anfield. Everybody now joking, everybody now laughing. All the way back to Anfield. Everything the same, the same as before. As though nothing had changed.

  The players got off the bus at Anfield. And Bill got off the bus at Anfield. The players went into Anfield. And Bill went into Anfield. Bill laughing, Bill joking. In the dressing rooms. The Anfield dressing rooms. The players took off their boots, the players took off their tracksuits. In the dressing rooms. The Anfield dressing rooms. Bill took off his boots. Bill took off his sweater and his tracksuit bottoms. Bill joking, Bill laughing. The players went into the baths. The Anfield baths. And Bill went into the baths. The Anfield baths. Bill laughing, Bill joking. The players washed and changed. And Bill washed and changed. Bill joking, Bill laughing. And then the players said goodbye. And Bill said goodbye. Bill still laughing, Bill still joking. The players went out to their cars. The players went back to their houses. Everybody happy, everybody smiling. In the sunshine. The Anfield sunshine. Bill did not go out to his car. Bill did not go back to his house. But Bill was still happy, Bill was still smiling. The sun still shining. The Anfield sun. His day not done. His day not over yet.

  Back in his suit, back in his tie. His red tie. His Liverpool Football Club tie. Bill went back down the corridor. Bill went back up the stairs. Bill went back into his office. Bill walked back around the bags of mail. The mountain of bags and bags of mail. Bill sat back down behind his desk. Bill reached back into the bag of mail on top of the mountain of bags and bags of mail. Bill took out another letter. Bill opened the letter. Bill read the letter. The letter on his retirement. The letter wishing him well in his retirement. And Bill shook his head. Bill put down the letter. Bill put the letter to one side. And Bill reached back into the bag of mail. Bill took out another letter. Bill opened the letter. Bill read the letter. The letter of congratulations on winning the Cup. The letter of thanks. And Bill smiled. Bill put down the letter. Bill opened the top drawer of his desk. Bill took out a piece of paper. Bill closed the top drawer of his desk. Bill threaded the piece of paper into his typewriter. Bill turned the platen knob. And Bill began to type again. Bill began to work again. To type and to type. To work and to work. To answer letter after letter. Letters of congratulations and letters of thanks. Bill typed and Bill typed. Bill worked and Bill worked. All afternoon. Until afternoon became evening. Bill worked.

  Bill stopped typing. Bill looked at his watch. Bill got up from his desk. Bill picked up his bag from the floor. His kit bag. Bill walked around the bags of mail. The mountain of bags and bags of mail. Bill took his hat off the hook. Bill put on his hat. Bill went out of his office. Bill went down the stairs. Bill went down the corridor. Bill went out of the ground. Bill walked across the car park. Bill got into his car. Bill pulled out of the car park. Bill went down the Belmont Road. And Bill saw people getting off the buses. On their way home from work. Bill turned onto the West Derby Road. And Bill saw people going into the newsagents. Buying their evening paper. And Bill smiled. Bill pulled into the drive. Bill got out of the car. Bill opened the front door. And Bill saw Ness. In the hall. Waiting –

  Where have you been all day, asked Ness.

  Bill laughed. Bill took off his hat. Bill hung up his hat. Bill kissed Ness on her cheek. And Bill said, I’ve been at work. At Melwood and at Anfield. Where else would I have been, love?

  I’m sorry, said Ness. I was worried, love. I thought you were just popping into the ground. I thought you’d be back sooner.

  Bill shook his head. And Bill said, Oh no, love. There was too much to do. The training to take, the letters to answer.

  Well, there are some more letters for you here, love, said Ness. Ness picked up a big bundle of envelopes from beside the telephone. And Ness handed the big bundle to Bill.

  Bill looked down at the big bundle of envelopes. Of cards. And Bill said, What are all these, love? It’s not my birthday yet, is it?

  No, said Ness. They are probably retirement cards.

  Bill put down the big bundle of envelopes back beside the telephone. And Bill said, That’s nice, love. People are very kind. But I’ll look at them later, love. After my tea. I’m starving, love …

  You look exhausted, too, said Ness.

  Bill shook his head again. And Bill said, Oh no, love. I’m fine. I’ve never felt better. I’m just hungry, love. I could eat a horse!

  Well, it’s your favourite, said Ness. Steak and chips.

  Bill clapped his hands. And Bill said, Oh, that’s grand. Thank you, love. There’s no finer food to come home to. Just what I need.

  In the kitchen, at the table. Bill and Ness ate their tea. A piece of steak, some chips and some peas. And then Bill helped Ness clear away the tea things. Bill dried up the tea things. Bill helped Ness put away the tea things. And then Bill and Ness went into the front room. Bill and Ness watched the television. They watched the news and they watched a documentary. Then Bill drew the curtains and Ness made another cup of tea. They read the papers and they talked about the girls. And their granddaughters. And then Ness stood up. Ness kissed Bill on his cheek. And Ness went up the stairs. Up to bed.

  In the house, in their front room. In the evening and in the silence. Bill sat in his chair. His hands on the arms of his chair. His grip tight, his knuckles white. Bill felt his palms begin to sweat, his palms begin to itch. Bill began to drum his fingers. On the arms of the chair. Faster and faster, harder and harder. And then Bill stopped. In the house, in their front room. In the evening and in the silence. Bill got up from his chair. Bill walked out of the front room. Bill went into the hall. Bill opened his bag. His kit bag. And Bill took out a book. A book of names, a book of notes. Bill closed his bag. His kit bag. Bill walked back into the front room. Bill sat back down in his chair. And in the house, and in their front room. In the evening and in the silence. Bill opened the book. The book of names, the book of notes. A new book. Bill turned to the first page. A blank page. Bill stared down at the blank page. In the house, in their front room. In the evening and in the silence. Bill picked up a pen from the table beside his chair. And Bill began to write in the book. The book of names, the book of notes. Bill wrote out the names of the players of Liverpool Football Club. Bill made notes on the training they had done today. The first day of training. Of the pre-season. Before the new season. The 1974–75 season. Player after player, note after note, line after line, for page after page. Bill wrote and Bill wrote. Bill worked and Bill worked. All evening. Until evening became night.

  In the front room, in his chair. In the night and in the silence. Bill stopped writing. Bill put down his pen. Bill closed his book. His book of names, his book of notes. Bill got up from his chair. Bill turned out the light in the front room. Bill went into the kitchen. Bill went to the drawer. Bill opened the drawer. Bill took out the tablecloth. Bill closed the drawer. Bill walked over to the table. Bill spread the cloth over the table. Bill walked over to another drawer. Bill opened the drawer. Bill took out the cutlery. The spoons. The forks. And the knives. Bill closed the drawer. Bill walked back over to the table. Bill laid two places at the table. Bill went to the cupboard. Bill opened the cupboard door. Bill took out the crockery. The bowls and the plates. Bill walked back over to the table. Bill put a bowl and a plate in each of the two places. Bill walked back to the cupboard. Bill took out two glasses. Bill closed the cupboard door. Bill walked back to the table. Bill put a glass in each of the places. Bill walked to another cupboard. Bill opened the door. Bill took out the salt and pepper pots. Bill closed the cupboard door. Bill walked back to the table. Bill put the salt and pepper pots on the table. Bill went to the pantry. Bill opened the pantry door. Bill took out a jar of honey and a jar of marmalade. Bill walked back to the table. Bill put the jar of honey and the jar of marmalade on the table. Bill walked over to the refri
gerator. Bill opened the refrigerator door. Bill took out the butter dish. Bill walked back over to the table. Bill put the butter dish down in the centre of the table. Bill walked back over to the refrigerator. Bill took out a bottle of fresh orange juice. Bill closed the refrigerator door. Bill walked back over to the table. Bill poured orange juice into both of the glasses. Bill put the bottle of fresh orange juice down on the table. Bill walked over to the kitchen wall. Bill turned to look back at the table. At the cutlery and the crockery. The salt and pepper pots. The jar of honey and the jar of marmalade. The butter dish. The two glasses and the bottle of fresh orange juice. Waiting. For the dawn and for the light. And Bill smiled. Bill switched off the kitchen light. And Bill went up the stairs. Up to bed.

  In the house, in their bedroom. In the dark and in the silence. Bill took off his tie. His red tie. His Liverpool Football Club tie. Bill took off his suit. Bill put on his pyjamas. Bill went into the bathroom. Bill switched on the bathroom light. Bill walked over to the sink. Bill brushed his teeth. Bill washed his face. Bill dried his face. Bill dried his hands. Bill turned off the bathroom light. Bill went back into the bedroom. Bill got into bed. And in the dark and in the silence. Bill stared up at the ceiling. In the dark and in the silence. Bill heard the clock on the table beside the bed. The alarm clock. Ticking, ticking. In the dark and in the silence. Bill knew Ness was still awake –

  Did anyone mention the new man, asked Ness. Who they might be bringing in? And when he might be starting?

  Oh no, love. Not yet. Give them a chance, love. Give them time. I mean, there’s no rush. And there can be no rush. No haste, love. Not in a matter like this. A matter of this importance. And they know they’ve no need to rush. Because they know they’ve still got me, love. For as long as they need me. For as long as it takes, love. I’m still there. I’m still here, love. I mean, I’m not going anywhere, am I? I’m going nowhere, love.

  51. THE KING IS DEAD, LONG LIVE THE KING

  In the boardroom, the Anfield boardroom. John Smith looked down the long table at Bill Shankly. And John Smith said, You’ve not had a change of heart then, Mr Shankly? A change of mind, have you?

  Oh no, said Bill Shankly. I’ve not had time. What with the training. And with all the letters and the telegrams. No. I’ve been busier than ever. I’ve not had a moment to myself.

  John Smith nodded. And John Smith said, Well, we obviously have to think about the club, Mr Shankly. We have to think about the future. About who should come in. About who the new man will be.

  Oh yes, said Bill Shankly. We must. Indeed we must.

  John Smith said, And obviously the board very much value your opinion on the matter, Mr Shankly. We welcome your input.

  Yes, said Bill Shankly. Of course. And I’m aware of all the speculation in the papers. The names being bandied about in the press.

  John Smith nodded again. And John Smith said, Yes. And with Mr Revie also recently resigned as manager of Leeds United, it means that the top two managerial positions in English club football are both vacant at the same time. And that does complicate the situation.

  Yes, said Bill Shankly again. I can see that it might.

  John Smith said, And from what I have read, from what I have heard, Leeds have already interviewed Jimmy Armfield, Tony Waiters and Brian Clough for the job. Probably other men, too.

  Ian St John, said Bill Shankly. I know for a fact they have spoken to Ian, too. And I believe he is in with a shout. A great chance. From what I have heard. So we might well have missed the boat with Ian. And that would be a shame. A great shame. But then of course there is Gordon. Gordon Milne. Joe Mercer speaks very highly of him. As a manager. He was even shortlisted for the England job. And of course Gordon knows the club. He knows it inside out. And then there is always Jack Charlton. I can’t believe Leeds have not even considered Jack. From what I have heard. When you look what he has achieved at Middlesbrough. They were promoted with eight games left. With sixty-five points. I mean, the man is Manager of the Year. In fact, more than Ian, more than Gordon, I think Jack is our man.

  John Smith shook his head. And John Smith said, Well, the board are in agreement that we do not want to get into any kind of competition with Leeds United. Or any other club for that matter. No. It could make matters very protracted. And the clock is ticking. The new season getting closer by the hour. It could be most disruptive.

  Yes, said Bill Shankly. Very unsettling for everyone.

  John Smith nodded. And John Smith said, Yes. And so the board are thinking of offering the position to Bob.

  Bob, said Bill Shankly. Bob who?

  John Smith smiled. And John Smith said, Bob Paisley.

  Oh yes, said Bill Shankly. Bob Paisley. I hadn’t really thought about Bob. But yes. That is a good idea. A very good idea. If Bob will accept the job, that is. If Bob wants to be the manager.

  John Smith said, Well, I have already spoken to Bob. Informally, of course. And he has told me he is willing to accept any job that Liverpool Football Club want him to do.

  Yes, said Bill Shankly. Of course. That’s Bob right there. In a nutshell. Thinking of Liverpool Football Club. Never himself.

  John Smith nodded. And John Smith said, But of course I wanted to discuss the matter with you, too, Mr Shankly. Before we took matters any further. Before we made anything formal. Anything public. To see if you had any objections. Or any reservations.

  No, said Bill Shankly. None at all. And why would I? After all, I’ll still be here. I’ll still be about the place. I can give Bob any help he needs. Anything at all. I’ll always be here to help him.

  John Smith coughed. And then John Smith said, Well, yes. Thank you, Mr Shankly. But Bob will be the manager of Liverpool Football Club. The team will be his responsibility. Now you have retired. The last thing we would want to do, and I am sure the last thing Bob would want to do, would be to burden you. Now you have retired. Now you have resigned from Liverpool Football Club. It would not be fair. Not on you. And not on Bob. It would not be right.

  Of course, said Bill Shankly. Of course.

  John Smith nodded. And John Smith said, And so the board will speak to Bob again tomorrow. And then we plan to announce Bob’s formal appointment as manager of Liverpool Football Club at the annual shareholders’ meeting on Friday.

  Right, said Bill Shankly. I see.

  John Smith stood up. And John Smith said, But finally let me say again, on behalf of the board, how very much we appreciate all the work you have done, all the help you have given us, during this period of transition. Thank you. But we all hope you can now, finally, enjoy your retirement, Mr Shankly.

  52. ON WATERING THE GARDEN

  In his suit, in his tie. His red tie. His Liverpool Football Club tie. Bill went back down the corridor. Bill went back into his office. Bill walked back around the bags of mail. The mountain of bags and bags of mail. And Bill sat back down behind his desk. Bill reached back into the bag of mail on top of the mountain of bags and bags of mail. Bill took out another letter. Bill opened the letter. Bill read the letter. The letter on his retirement. The letter wishing him well in his retirement. And Bill shook his head. Bill put down the letter. Bill put the letter to one side. And Bill stared down at his desk. At his typewriter, at its keys. Silent and waiting. Bill looked up from the keys. From the typewriter and from the desk. Bill looked around the office. At the filing cabinets, at the shelves. The shelves of books. The books of names and the books of notes. At the pictures on the wall. The history and the memories. The clock on the wall. Ticking and ticking. In the office, at the desk. Bill closed his eyes. Bill swallowed. And then Bill opened his eyes again. Bill looked at his watch. Bill got up from the desk. Bill picked up his bag from the floor. His kit bag. Bill walked around the bags of mail. The mountain of bags and bags of mail. Bill took his hat off the hook. Bill put on his hat. Bill went out of the office. Bill went down the stairs. Bill went down the corridor. Bill went out of the ground. Bill walked across the car park. Bill got into his
car. Bill pulled out of the car park. Bill went down the Belmont Road. Bill turned onto the West Derby Road. Bill pulled into the drive. Bill got out of the car. Bill walked up the drive. Bill opened the front door. Bill stepped into the house. And Bill closed the front door.