by David Peace
In your statement you made an interesting remark about the fact that you are determined not to succumb to the danger of being faced with a decision you have faced before, in case you mishandled it the second time round? I’m not quite sure what you meant …
Harold Wilson touched his neck. He touched his chin, he touched his cheek. Harold Wilson touched his tie. He smiled and he said, No, no. It was a problem I was aware of when I was a civil servant, very many years ago. You looked at a problem. You’ve looked at a solution people have put forward, you’ve turned it down. There is a danger that five years later, when circumstances may have changed, you say, Oh, we looked at that before. Or, I’ve been through this crisis before. And that you don’t approach it with the freshness you should. I think that’s a danger that can come after too many years. I hope I haven’t done it. But I want to make sure that I don’t. And that there will be a fresh approach to all the problems.
But that is one of the big things which has decided you to bow out at this moment?
Harold Wilson looked down again. And Harold Wilson said, No, I think the big things really are, first, that I have been here a long time. It’s been a long run, a happy run. Almost the longest this century. I’ve got a wonderful team, I’ve got people almost of my own age group. Why should I sort of hog the thing? And cling on and prevent them from having the chance of succeeding and bringing their distinctive approach? That is one of the arguments; the other argument, I think we are now at a turning point. Things are beginning to pick up again. Very slowly, but beginning. Even unemployment is beginning to get more under control, I believe. But I would like new people to handle this. And of course, we are at a turning point on the biggest thing of all: the attack on inflation. When we’ve got acceptance, against all the odds as many people thought last year, by agreement, of what has to be done to fight inflation. The counter-inflation policy. The next stage, after the budget, will be to decide what we do for the next year. Now I think that is the moment to go. To leave others to do the negotiations. I would hate to wreck those negotiations, or even put them at risk, by an interruption for the need to have an election of a new leader. And when all the trade-union conferences are going on and so on. And there is a little lull before the budget, before any new negotiations can take place. So I think this is the time to do it. I’ve had a great deal of anxiety in working out what was the right time. But yes, I think that’s right.
But that does mean your successor is going to have one of the most difficult jobs there could be, as almost his first task. And that is, obtaining agreement between differing opinions in the Labour movement and the trade-union movement about what that next stage of the counter-inflation policy should be …
Harold Wilson ran his finger along the top of his lip. He put the pipe in his mouth again. He lit the pipe. Then Harold Wilson took the pipe from his mouth again. And Harold Wilson said, I hope the way I handled it is going to help him. Because we start from a national consensus. As well as a consensus with the trade-union movement. Within Parliament, in the main. Certainly on our side. He starts from that. And he starts with the goodwill of the country.
Can I ask you, said the interviewer, if you feel you have a political weakness, what that is?
Harold Wilson looked down again. And Harold Wilson said, Well, I think it is always said I’m very forgiving. The man who kicks me in the teeth one week, I won’t say I’m exactly promoting him – that usually takes a month – but I am forgiving. Because I know we are all human beings with our frailties. And sometimes I’m accused of another weakness: loyalty to my colleagues. That’s not a weakness. I have always backed them. Even when, sometimes, they have put me in a spot. And I have tried to see them through. But loyalty by the prime minister to his colleagues is essential.
Can I ask one thing, about the burden on a prime minister, said the interviewer. Do you think our system puts too heavy a burden on each prime minister?
Well, it varies really. Depends on how the prime minister plays it. I like to know all that is going on. When I was prime minister in the sixties, hardly a single one of them had been in the Cabinet. I had to go in and do everything. It’s like, you know, football? Taking the set piece occasionally. The goalkeeper. Taking the penalties and the corners. Now, of course, I have a very talented and experienced Cabinet. Even so, I like to know all that is going on. It’s a heavy job. But a very enjoyable job. You don’t get bored, you know? And if I don’t get bored, I don’t get tired. Others may do it differently. I’ve known prime ministers, not long ago, who were sitting in the garden at Number Ten here, reading novels in the afternoon. Well, I don’t get a chance to read them even on a Saturday or a Sunday.
You’ve said today, said the interviewer, you are as fit as a flea. How fit is that?
Harold Wilson put the pipe in his mouth again. He lit the pipe again. He took the pipe from his mouth again. And he said, Well, all fleas are fit. And I feel fitter now than when I was forty. Certainly carrying less weight. But I think I was quoting the views of my doctor, who gives me regular check-ups. And he says I’m fairly sound.
Prime Minister, for the last time, thank you.
Thank you.
And Bill Shankly stood up. Bill Shankly got to his feet. And Bill Shankly walked over to the television. Bill Shankly switched off the television. And Bill Shankly walked over to the window. Bill Shankly looked out at the street. The empty street, the dark street. And Bill Shankly drew the curtains.
64. BRUGES
Bill waited and Bill waited. Bill still went to the games, Bill still watched the matches. But Bill waited and Bill waited. Bill had stood on the Kop, Bill had sat in the stands. Waiting and waiting. Not with the directors, the directors and their friends. Not in their box. Bill waited and Bill waited. On the Kop, in the stands. Bill waited and Bill waited. For the letter on the mat. The invitation and the ticket. Bill waited and Bill waited. For the knock on the door or the voice on the phone. Asking Bill, inviting Bill. To an away game, an away match. At Ayresome Park or White Hart Lane. But Bill waited and Bill waited. For just a letter or just a call. Until Bill gave up waiting. For the letter that never came. The invitation and the ticket. Bill stopped waiting. For the knock on the door and the voice on the phone. Until Bill said he gave up waiting. Still first to the post. Until Bill said he stopped waiting. Still first to the phone. Still waiting, still hoping. Hoping for a letter. An invitation and a ticket. First to the post. Not saying, just hoping. Hoping for a call. And first to the phone –
Hello, hello? This is Bill Shankly speaking …
Mr Shankly, said the voice on the line, this is Liverpool Football Club. We have a request for you to attend the second leg of the UEFA Cup Final. In Bruges next week. From –
Oh well. Yes. Thank you. Yes. Of course, I’d be delighted to be there. Thank you. But I think it’s a bit late in the day. I mean, for the travel and for the hotel. A little bit late now …
No, no, said the voice on the line. Liverpool Football Club will make all the necessary travel arrangements.
Oh well, then. Then thank you. I would be delighted to come.
Great, said the voice on the line. Then we’ll send you all the tickets you need. Everything you need. To your house.
Thank you. Thank you very much.
Bill put down the telephone. Bill walked back into the kitchen.
And Ness looked at Bill. The look on his face. In his eyes –
Who was that, asked Ness. What was that about, love?
It was the club, love. Someone from the club. I don’t know who, love. I didn’t recognise the voice …
What did they want, love?
To invite me to Bruges, love. To the second leg of the final next week. As part of the club, love. The official party.
Really, asked Ness. I wonder why, love? It’s taken them long enough, has it not? I wonder why now, love?
I don’t know, love.
Well, what did you say, love? You’re not going to go? After all this time, love
. After waiting so long …
I know, love. I know. But I don’t want anybody to think I’m being petty, love. I mean, I don’t want anybody to say Bill Shankly is a petty man. A man who bears a grudge, love …
And so you said yes?
Yes, love.
But do you want to go, love? Is that what you want?
Well, I can’t say it’s something I’ve dwelt on, love. Something I’ve lost any sleep over. But now they’ve invited me, love. As part of the club. Then I’m happy to go, love.
Then if you’re happy to go, you should go. I just wish they had done this before, love. They had thought of this before. But yes, then, you should go, love …
And Bill drove out to the airport. Speke airport. Bill parked in the car park at the airport. Speke airport. Bill looked for the bus. The Liverpool team bus. But Bill could not see the bus. The Liverpool team bus. Bill went inside the airport. Speke airport. Bill looked for the players of Liverpool Football Club. But Bill could not see the players of Liverpool Football Club. Bill checked in for the flight. The flight to Belgium. Bill stood in the line. The line for check-in. Next to people he did not know. Next to people he did not recognise. Bill boarded the flight. The flight to Belgium. Bill sat on the plane. The plane to Belgium. Next to people he did not know. Next to people he did not recognise. Bill got off the plane. The plane in Belgium. And Bill looked for the players of Liverpool Football Club. But Bill could not see the players of Liverpool Football Club. Bill looked for anybody. Anybody from Liverpool Football Club. Anybody he knew, anybody he recognised. But Bill could not see anybody he knew, anybody he recognised. And Bill took out the envelope from his pocket. The envelope filled with tickets. Tickets for flights, a reservation for a hotel. A hotel he did not know, a hotel he did not recognise. And Bill found a taxi. Bill showed the taxi driver the address of the hotel. The hotel he did not know, the hotel he did not recognise. And Bill sat in the back of the taxi to the hotel. The hotel he did not know, the hotel he did not recognise. And Bill got out of the taxi. Bill walked into the hotel. And Bill looked around the lobby of the hotel. Bill looking for the players of Liverpool Football Club. But Bill could not see the players of Liverpool Football Club. Bill looking for anybody. Anybody he knew, anybody he recognised. But Bill could not see anybody he knew, anybody he recognised. But Bill checked into the hotel. Bill signed the register. The hotel register. And Bill went up to the room. His hotel room. Bill sat down on the bed. His hotel bed. And Bill waited for dinnertime. Sitting on the bed. His hotel bed. Pacing the room. The hotel room. Up and down. The hotel room. Until it was time. Dinnertime. And Bill walked into the hotel dining room. Bill looked around the hotel dining room. Bill looking for the players of Liverpool Football Club. But Bill did not see the players of Liverpool Football Club. Bill looking for anybody he knew, anybody he recognised. And at last Bill did see people he knew, people he recognised. Bill saw the wives of the players of Liverpool Football Club. The wives and the journalists who wrote about Liverpool Football Club. And the wives and the journalists smiled at Bill. And they waved to Bill. And Bill smiled at them. And Bill waved back. And Bill sat down at a table. A table set for one. And Bill wished he had not come. He had not come. Bill wished he had stayed at home. He had stayed at home.
65. HOLIDAYS IN THE SUN
On the beach, on the sands. The Blackpool sands. The two little lads were building sandcastles. They filled their bucket with sand. They tipped up their bucket. They lifted up their bucket. But their castle collapsed. In grains, on the sands. The Blackpool sands. Every time. They filled their bucket. They tipped up their bucket. They lifted up their bucket. Every time. Their castles collapsed. In grains again, on the sands. The Blackpool sands. Bill Shankly knelt down beside the boys. And Bill Shankly said, That looks like Goodison Park, lads. Looks like you need a hand from a master. A master builder, lads …
And Bill Shankly picked up the spade. The plastic yellow spade. Bill Shankly drew a square in the sands. The Blackpool sands. And Bill Shankly said, You’ll need a castle on every corner, lads …
Bill Shankly filled the bucket with sand. Bill Shankly packed it tight. Bill Shankly patted it down with the back of the spade. Bill Shankly put the bucket on the first corner. Gently. Bill Shankly tipped up the bucket. Slowly. Bill Shankly lifted up the bucket. And Bill Shankly said, There you go, lads. As solid as a rock. That’s how you build a castle, lads. How you build a fortress. Now you try, lads …
And the two little lads took turns to fill their bucket with sand. They packed it tight. They patted it down with the back of the spade. They put the bucket on the second corner. Then the third. And then the fourth. Gently. They tipped up their bucket. Slowly. They lifted up their bucket. And their castles stood. Solid. On every corner.
Bill Shankly stood up. And Bill Shankly said, There you go, lads. Just look at that! That looks like Anfield, lads. Like Anfield …
The two little lads stood up. The two little lads stared back down at their castle. Their fortress. On the beach, on the sands. The Blackpool sands. And the two little lads smiled. They beamed –
And Bill Shankly said, But you know what it needs now, lads? The only thing missing? We need a red flag, lads …
But then on the beach, then on the sands. The Blackpool sands. A football fell out of the sky. The Blackpool sky. And onto their castle. Their fortress. Destroyed and ruined. With one bad kick, with one wrong ball. On the beach, on the sands. The Blackpool sands. The two little lads turned to Bill Shankly. The two little lads looked up to Bill Shankly. With their lips trembling and with their eyes filling. On the beach and on the sands. The Blackpool sands. Bill Shankly picked up the ball. The football. Bill Shankly turned around. Bill Shankly saw an older boy coming towards them. The older boy saying, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, mister. It was just a bad kick …
On the beach, on the sands. The Blackpool sands. Bill Shankly looked at the older boy. The older boy in a blue football shirt. A blue Scotland shirt. Bill Shankly smiled. And Bill Shankly said, Aye, son. Aye. A bad kick, a terrible kick, son. Looks like you need help from a master. A master player, son …
And Bill Shankly turned to the two little lads. On the beach, on the sands. The Blackpool sands. And Bill Shankly said, Come on, boys. Come on! Let’s get our revenge, boys! Let’s teach them a lesson! And show them how we play, boys …
66. THERE’S NOTHING HERE BUT HIGHLAND PRIDE
John Roberts telephoned Bill. Bill knew John. John worked on the Daily Express. John had written about Liverpool Football Club for the Daily Express. John had talked with Bill about Liverpool Football Club. And Bill had shouted at John about Liverpool Football Club. But John had smiled at Bill. John had listened to Bill. And Bill liked John. John had also written a book. The Team That Wouldn’t Die: The Story of the Busby Babes. Now John wanted to write another book. And so John asked Bill if he would like to tell his tale. His life story. John told Bill people wanted to hear his tale. His story. John told Bill people would be happy to hear his tale. His story. And so if Bill would like to tell his tale. His story. Then John would like to help Bill write his story. His autobiography. And John said Christopher Falkus of Weidenfeld & Nicolson would like to publish Bill’s autobiography. His book. Christopher Falkus had published Matt’s autobiography. His book. Soccer at the Top: My Life in Football. Bill had read Matt’s autobiography. His book. And Bill had enjoyed Matt’s book. And so Bill said, Yes. If people want to hear my tale. Then I will tell my tale. If it will make people happy. Then I will write my story.
Most afternoons. After Bill had finished his training at Bellefield. And Bill came home. Most afternoons. In the front room, in his chair. In his red tracksuit top. Most afternoons. Bill talked to John. About the morning training, about the morning game. The goal he had laid on, the knock he had picked up. Most afternoons. John listened. And John smiled. And then John asked Bill about the past. And most afternoons. In his chair, his red tracksuit top. For tape after tape. Bill talked and Bill walked. Most afternoons.
Down Memory Lane. For chapter after chapter. Life in Glenbuck. The Road South. Change at Haltwhistle. Acting Corporal. Bitter End, New Beginnings. Law and Wilson. St John and Yeats. Body and Soul. Never Walk Alone. The New Team. A Boy Called Keegan. Triumph Again. And Goodbye Anfield. Chapter after chapter, tape after tape. Bill talked and Bill walked. Most afternoons. Down Memory Lane. With the managers he had known, with the players he had known. Until Auld Lang Syne. And the tapes were full and the chapters written. The tale told and the book finished. SHANKLY by Bill Shankly. The book published. And the book banned from sale in the official club shop at Anfield.
In the house, in their bedroom. Bill walked over to the bed. Bill picked up the jacket from the bed. The freshly cleaned grey jacket. Bill took the jacket from the coat hanger. Bill put on the jacket. Bill walked over to the mirror on the back of the wardrobe door. Bill looked at the man in the mirror. In his grey jacket. The jacket too big. His red shirt. The collar too big. And Bill said, You couldn’t even get from Carlisle to Preston on the train now for forty pound …
And now Bill heard footsteps on the stairs. Bill heard Ness tap on the bedroom door. And Ness opened the door –
They’re ready, love. They’re waiting …
Bill nodded. And Bill said, Thanks, love. I’m coming now.
