August 16, 2020Missive

He barely looked up

lossnaturecitypoliticsmemorytime

He barely looked up

An old man

Wrapped up against the cold,

Although it seemed quite warm to me

To go back to

I think he knew,

Smiled to himself

Even as he rolled the crisp new note into a tube

Slipping it down between his sock

And the Chelsea boot

Which must have gone out of fashion

When I was a boy

How did he find them?

He saw me looking

‘Picked them up from the street

After the looting.

This place has never been the same

Since Thatcher’s Britain.’

‘That was close to forty years ago.’

‘Yes but they have long memories

Around here

Nothing to do but stoke up division

No jobs to speak of

In the High Street

Closed down five years ago

Nothing left there now but rubble

It’s not the kids as cause the trouble

They’ve all gone to the city

It’s those of us left behind

To moulder

As we got older

The hope just melted away

Nothing left of it now

But to get drunk on cheap wine

Some people crossed the line

A long time ago

Walked through the gates

Bold as brass

Broke the hearts of the pickets

To be betrayed

For a broken promise

Nobody faired well

No jobs were saved

Some men didn’t work again

Others picked out rotten potatoes

On a production line

In a crisp factory

Until the electricity failed

The European Union

Needed it for themselves

Thank goodness for wind turbines

Safer than working mines

Cleaner too

If you care for such things

When you have time on your hands.’

He laughed again, without humour

‘At least our hands are clean...well mostly

You should see a bunch of old men

Trying to pull flat screens

Out of a broken shop window.’

He broke off to spit and clear his throat

Pulled up the collar on his coat

A Crombie

I wondered where that might have come from

He noticed.

‘Oxfam.

What are you doing here anyway?’

‘I used to live here

When I was a boy

Over there where the new flats

Are going up’

‘They stopped building

When the car plant closed

Land is cheap...see over yonder

Where the shopping centre is now

Once was a slagheap.’

I remembered.

‘Re-designated this whole place

A regeneration zone

I wish that included me’

He laughed so much he began to cough

But didn’t seem to care

Just spat out the phlegm

And looked up

‘You Lancie’s boy?’

I was taken aback

‘Yes how did you know?’

‘You look like him

We worked together in the time office

After the war

And he was always talking about you

A big success story down south

Proud as punch he was.’

I was struck dumb

‘I wish he’d told me instead’

‘Why, you didn’t know?’

‘No... and knowing

Might have made all the difference.’

‘The difference to what?’

‘How long it took me to come back.’