Red Or Dead

by David Peace

  And Bill stood on the pitch. The Wembley pitch. And Bill watched Emlyn Hughes lead the players up the steps. The Wembley steps. Bill watched Emlyn Hughes collect the shield. The Charity Shield. The players ascending the steps, the players descending the steps. The Wembley steps. And then Bill joined the players. The Liverpool players. At the bottom of the steps. The Wembley steps. Bill posed for photographs with the team. The Liverpool team. And the shield. The Charity Shield. On the pitch. The Wembley pitch. Bill held the shield. The Charity Shield. And the photographers took their pictures. And the journalists asked their questions. And then Bill walked. Bill jogged. Around the touchline. The Wembley touchline. With the shield. The Charity Shield. With the team. The Liverpool team. On the track. The speedway track. Around the stadium. The Wembley stadium. Saluting the supporters of Liverpool Football Club, thanking the supporters of Liverpool Football Club. For the last time, the very last time. Saluting them and thanking them. For the last time, the very last time. The supporters of Liverpool Football Club chanting, SHANK-LEE, SHANK-LEE, SHANK-LEE …

  Some of those supporters of Liverpool Football Club on the pitch now. The Wembley pitch now. Embracing Bill, holding Bill. Tight, tight. Pulling him this way, pulling him that way. Harder and harder. And one supporter, one Liverpool supporter, reached out towards Bill. Across the pitch, the Wembley pitch. And this supporter, this Liverpool supporter, this supporter tied a scarf around Bill’s neck. A tartan Liverpool scarf around Bill’s neck. And another supporter, a supporter in a white boiler suit and a tall red hat, this supporter grabbed Bill. By the lapels, the lapels of Bill’s jacket. And this supporter, this supporter in his white boiler suit and his tall red hat, with tears down his face and despair in his voice, this supporter held Bill. Tighter, tighter. This supporter hugged Bill. Harder and harder. Squeezed him as though he would never let him go. And this supporter begged and pleaded and cried, Please don’t go, Mr Shankly. Please don’t leave us. Please stay, Mr Shankly. Please stay with us, please …

  Bill tried to pull back from this supporter, this supporter in his white boiler suit and his tall red hat, with the tears down his face and the despair in his voice. Bill tried to turn away. But Bill could not pull back, Bill could not turn away. And Bill reached out to this supporter, this man in his white boiler suit and his tall red hat, and Bill embraced the man. Bill held the man in his arms. And Bill said, It’ll be all right, wee man. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry, wee man. Don’t worry …

  And Bill pulled back now. Bill turned away now. And Bill began to walk. To jog. And then to run. Across the pitch. The Wembley pitch. Towards the tunnel. The Wembley tunnel. The darkness and the shadows. And in the tunnel. The Wembley tunnel. In the darkness and in the shadows. Bill stopped running. Between its high, bare walls. In its long, dark shadows. His chest heaving, his heart racing. Bill caught his breath, Bill calmed his heart. In the tunnel. The Wembley tunnel. His breath caught and his heart calm. Bill knocked upon the dressing-room door. The Leeds United dressing-room door. Bill stepped inside the Leeds United dressing room. And Bill saw Billy Bremner. Billy Bremner sat on the bench. Still in his shorts, still without his shirt. Bill sat down next to Billy Bremner. And Bill said, What on earth did you do that for, son? Throwing your shirt off like that. Throwing it down on the ground like it was a piece of rag. What on earth were you bloody thinking? What got into you, son?

  I don’t know, said Billy Bremner. I am disgusted with myself.

  Bill laughed. And Bill said, And so you bloody should be, son. But did you see you that picture of me and you and Jack Dempsey? In the paper? The one they took at the dinner the other night? Now that man could lick the world. That man knew how to really punch!

  Aye, said Billy Bremner. It’s a good photo. A good memory.

  Bill nodded. And Bill slapped Billy Bremner on the top of his thigh. Bill got up from the bench. And Bill walked out of the Leeds United dressing room. Into the tunnel. The Wembley tunnel. And into the dressing room. The Liverpool dressing room. And Bill saw Kevin Keegan. Kevin Keegan sat on the bench. Already washed, already dressed. His father sat beside him. Bill sat down on the other side of Kevin Keegan. And Bill said, Forget it, son. Forget it. You were not the culprit. You were the victim. The victim of a heinous injustice!

  I can’t forget it, said Kevin Keegan. But I’m very sorry it happened, Boss. On today of all days. So I’m going to go home with my dad now, Boss. Because I need to think about things …

  Bill nodded. And Bill said, All right, son. You go home with your dad. That’s the best place, home. Keep your head down. And your nose clean. But your chin up. Your chin up, son …

  Kevin Keegan nodded. And his father nodded. Kevin Keegan stood up. And his father stood up. And Bill watched Kevin Keegan and his father walk out of the dressing room. The Liverpool dressing room. And into the tunnel. The Wembley tunnel. Its darkness and its shadows. The door banging behind them. The dressing-room door. Bill heard the door banging. The dressing-room door. Banging and banging, echoing and echoing. And Bill looked around the dressing room. The Liverpool dressing room. Round and around. And Bill stood back up. Bill got back on his feet. And Bill began to pace again. Up and down the dressing room. The Liverpool dressing room –

  Round and around. Round and around –

  On the train. The train back to Liverpool. In the carriage, in his seat. Bill could feel the wheels of the train beneath him. Turning, turning. Round and around. Their movement and their rhythm. Round and around. On the train. The train back to Liverpool. In the carriage, in his seat. Bill had no book. No book of names, no book of notes. Bill had no diary. No diary of dates, no diary of fixtures. The dates to come, the fixtures to come. But on the train. The train back to Liverpool. In the carriage, in his seat. The wheels going round and around. Turning and turning. Bill did not look out of the window. Not at the sun setting, not at the night falling. The cattle dimming and the fields fading. The wheels going round and around. So what are you going to do with yourself all season, Mr Shankly? In the gloaming, in the twilight. Past the abandoned branch lines, past the mothballed stations. The wheels going round and around. What on earth are you going to do with yourself, sir? Bill thought about all the interviews he had done. All the broadcasters and all the journalists. The wheels going round and around. So what are you going to do with yourself all season, Mr Shankly? And Bill closed his eyes. Bill had had enough of dictating his own obituary. Bill had had enough of carving his own tombstone. Round and around. What on earth are you going to do with yourself, sir? Round and around. So what are you going to do with yourself all season, Mr Shankly? Round and around. What on earth are you going to do with yourself, sir? Round and around,

  round and around. In the house, in their front room. In the night and in the silence. Bill paced and Bill paced. Round and around. In the house, in their front room. In the night and in the silence. Bill stopped pacing. Bill walked out into the hall. Bill picked up the telephone. Bill dialled a number. And Bill listened to the telephone ring. And ring –

  Hello, said Maurice Setters, the manager of Doncaster Rovers.

  Hello, Maurice. Hello. It’s only me, Maurice. It’s only Bill. And I’m sorry to bother you, Maurice. But I’m worried about Keegan. I am very worried about Kevin. After what happened today. I want him to come up to Glasgow with the team. We’re playing in Billy McNeill’s testimonial. It’ll be my last game, Maurice. And I want him to be there. I don’t want him brooding in Doncaster. I want to get things sorted. So will you go out and find him for me, Maurice. I called his house. I called his father. But the lad’s gone to the pub. He’ll be out drowning his sorrows somewhere. And that’s no good for any man. So I want you to go and find him, Maurice. And tell him to call me. Because I’m back at my home now. And so I’ll be waiting for him to call me. Whatever time. I’ll be waiting. Will you find him and tell him, Maurice? Will you do that for me, Maurice?

  Yes, said Maurice Setters. I’ll do that for you, Bill. I will.

  Bill sighed. An
d Bill said, Thank you, Maurice. Thank you. You are a pal, Maurice. You truly are. Thank you, Maurice.

  Bill put down the telephone. And in the house and in the hall. In the night and in the silence. Bill paced and Bill paced. Up and down, up and down. In the house, in the hall. In the night and in the silence. Up and down, up and down. Bill paced and Bill paced. For hour after hour. Bill waited and Bill waited. Until at last, at last. Bill heard the telephone ring. And Bill grabbed the phone. On the second ring. And Bill said, Kevin? Kevin, is that you, son? Kevin?

  Yes, Boss, said Kevin Keegan. It’s me, Boss …

  And Bill said, I’ve just spoken to Jock. And Jock wants you there. On Monday night, at Parkhead. For the testimonial, for Billy McNeill. Jock wants you to be there. To be up there. Because the people up there, they want to see you play, son. They don’t care about what happened today. All that nonsense. They just want to see you play, son. So Jock wants you to be there. And I want you to be there.

  If you’ll be there, Boss, then I’ll be there, said Kevin Keegan.

  Oh, I’ll be there, son. I’ll be there. You just try and stop me, son. You just try and stop me …

  55. IN THE HIGHLANDS, MY HEART IS NOT HERE

  Before the testimonial, the testimonial for Billy McNeill. At the dinner, the dinner for Billy McNeill. Jock Stein got to his feet. Jock Stein picked up his knife. Jock Stein picked up his glass. Jock Stein tapped the knife against the glass once, twice, three times. And Jock Stein said, Ladies and gentlemen, we are here tonight to honour one of the greatest footballers in the history of the Celtic Football Club: the Big Man, the Caesar, King Billy himself – Mr Billy McNeill. Raised in Bellshill, a Motherwell supporter no less, he was spotted by Bobby Evans and, thankfully, signed for the Celtic Football Club in 1957. And so Billy was here when I came here. And by God, was I glad he was. Of course, it was Billy who scored the goal that won us the Cup in 1965. The first cup the club had won since 1957! And of course, he went on to score in two more cup finals. Not bad for a centre-half! But I believe that goal back in 1965, that header that won that game, and that gave us that victory, I believe that was pivotal. Because that goal, that goal that won that game and that won us that cup, changed everything. Because that goal, that cup and that victory was the foundation of all the goals, all the cups and all the victories since. The five more Scottish Cups, the five League Cups, the nine consecutive League Championships and, of course, the European Cup. And I do not believe, in fact I know, we would never have won so much without Billy McNeill. Because it has been Billy’s determination, Billy’s strength and Billy’s leadership as captain of the Celtic Football Club that have been the bedrock, the very foundation of all our success. And Billy has played every single minute of every single game he has ever played in. In all those games, he has never once been substituted. Because I would not have dared! Not that I ever wanted to, mind …

  But for all his commitment, for all his dedication, his passion and his strength, you will never hear another player, another football man, speak ill of Billy McNeill. Because Billy McNeill has earned the admiration and respect not only of his teammates and the supporters of the Celtic Football Club, but the admiration and respect of all the players and the supporters he has played against. And so I think there can be no more fitting opponents, no more worthy opposition tomorrow night, than Liverpool Football Club. And so it gives me the greatest of pleasure to be able to welcome Liverpool Football Club. And to thank them for coming here to take part in this great occasion, this testimonial for Billy McNeill. However, in fairness, I’d just like to remind Liverpool Football Club that the Celtic Football Club do not play friendlies. We never have and we never will!

  Bill Shankly jumped up. Up from his chair, up onto his feet –

  Aye, John. Right you are, John. Well, that’s lucky for you and for the Celtic. Because Liverpool Football Club don’t play friendlies either! As you’ll find out soon enough…

  At the testimonial, the testimonial for Billy McNeill. In the centre circle of the pitch, the Parkhead pitch. Jock Stein embraced Bill Shankly. And Jock Stein said, Tonight is for Billy. But do you not hear that, Bill? Do you not hear the name they are singing now?

  SHANK-LEE, SHANK-LEE, SHANK-LEE …

  Aye, John, I do, said Bill Shankly. And I never dreamt, when I used to come to this ground as a schoolboy fifty years ago, that I would end my career here, with a finale as memorable and moving as this. I could never have dreamt of such a night, John.

  And Jock Stein felt Bill Shankly grasp his hand. Bill Shankly grip his hand. Squeeze his hand as though he would never let it go. And Jock Stein looked at Bill Shankly. Bill Shankly in the centre circle of the pitch. The Parkhead pitch. And Jock Stein whispered, You know, I’ve never believed anything you’ve ever said to me, Bill. Not a word, a single word. The things you’ve said about your players. About Liverpool Football Club. If they were as good as you always said, they’d have not only won the European Cup, they’d have won the Ryder Cup, the Boat Race and even the bloody Grand National!

  And they would have done, said Bill Shankly. But they never let me enter them. But they would have done. Believe me …

  Jock Stein shook his head. And Jock Stein said, Well, I still refuse to believe that. And I also refuse to believe you are retiring, Bill. I cannot believe you. That you would walk away from this. From this game. From these players. These fans. I just cannot believe you, Bill. I refuse to believe you. Men like us don’t retire, Bill. We go on and on until we die. Until we die at our posts, Bill. That is the kind of men we are. The kind of man you are, Bill …

  But this is not about me, said Bill Shankly. And Bill Shankly let go of Jock Stein’s hand. Bill Shankly walked over to Billy McNeill in the centre circle of the pitch, the Parkhead pitch. And Bill Shankly shook the hand of Billy McNeill –

  Everything you have earned from the game. Everything you have gained from this game. You have done it honestly, son. So enjoy this night. Your night. Because you deserve it, son. Because you are honest. An honest man …

  After the testimonial, the testimonial for Billy McNeill. In the dressing room, the Liverpool dressing room. Bob Paisley called for silence. And then Bob Paisley said, Have you got the time, Bill?

  And Bob Paisley handed over a gold wristlet watch to Bill Shankly. And then Bob Paisley handed over a matching lady’s gold wristlet watch to Bill Shankly. And Bob Paisley said, And will you give this one to Nessie, too, with all our good wishes, Bill …

  In the dressing room, the Liverpool dressing room. Bill Shankly looked down at the two gold watches in his hand. And Bill Shankly nodded. And Bill Shankly smiled –

  It’s funny how when you retire, they always give you a clock or watch, isn’t it? The old gold clock, the old gold watch. The two things you don’t need, the last two things you need. When you’re sat at home all day. Watching those hands go round and around. Round and around all day. It’s funny, isn’t it?

  But in the dressing room, the Liverpool dressing room. No one laughed. And no one spoke. Until Reuben Bennett said, Would you have preferred a pair of boots, Bill? A new pair of football boots?

  Oh aye, Reuben. Of course, I would. If you had made them gold and all. Yes, a pair of golden football boots. Oh yes. And don’t forget, boys. I’m always a size thirty in a golden boot!

  And now in the dressing room, the Liverpool dressing room. Now everyone laughed. Almost everyone.

  56. IN A DARK WOOD

  In the house, in their bed. In the dark and in the silence. Bill could not sleep. His head on his pillow. His eyes open. Bill stared up into the darkness. Up into the silence. Everything dark, everything silent. Until at last, at last. The curtain edges grew light again. At last, at last. The wardrobe wood again, not shadow now. At last, at last. A ceiling on the room, a roof upon the house. At last, at last. The bottle on the doorstep, the paper through the letterbox. And at last, at last. Day was here again. A new morning come again. At last,

  at last. Bill was out of their b
ed. Into the bathroom. Shaved and washed. Bill put on his tracksuit bottoms. Bill put on his sweater. Bill folded up his suit. His shirt and his tie. Bill put his suit, his shirt and his tie, into his bag. His kit bag. Bill took his boots from out of the bottom of the wardrobe. Bill put his boots into a plastic bag. Bill picked up his kit bag and the plastic bag. Bill walked down the stairs. Bill left his kit bag and the plastic bag in the hall. Bill went into the kitchen. Bill ate breakfast with Ness. A slice of toast and honey, a glass of orange juice and a cup of tea. Bill helped Ness clear away the breakfast things. Bill dried up the breakfast things. Bill helped Ness put away the breakfast things. And Bill kissed Ness on her cheek –

  Are you going somewhere, love, asked Ness.

  Oh yes, love. I thought I’d just pop in at Melwood. Just to see how everyone is doing, love. How they are all getting on.

  But you saw them all yesterday, said Ness.

  I know, I know. But I’m going to train as well. With the team, love. I might as well. To keep myself fit. I’ve got to keep myself fit, love. I don’t want to be letting myself go now, do I, love?