Roskov book 14, p.17
Roskov, Book 14, page 17
‘Thorpe?’
‘I plan my days of research and writing, regular breaks, small meals - little and often, and long walks even when it’s raining. But I don’t have the pressures that a politician has, nor would I want the damn job.
‘As to the root causes, Roskov is correct of course, people want to make money selling food, so it has a nice advert on the box and it tastes good with artificial flavouring.
‘If those same people could make nicely tasting hand grenades … they would, and sell them. Do they care? Hell no.’
‘Next question, from Dawn - of Poole as well.’
‘What’s the panel’s view on the Northern Ireland Peace Process?’
‘Jack Straw?’
‘The government is in negotiations for a peace accord that would see a sharing of power and a re-opening of the Stormont Chamber, which is a definite step forwards, and I wish the process every success.
‘But just to be clear, that process does not mention a united Ireland, and Southern Ireland is not asking for it to make such a declaration, it’s about peace in the province as the province stands today.’
‘Mister Thorpe?’
‘Many of the Catholics don’t care about unity, they care about jobs more, education and opportunities, as Roskov accurately stated many times.
‘Will the power sharing in Stormont work, no, not a hope really, the two sides are too far apart for that. The best hope is sat on this panel, someone that can talk to all sides and is trusted by the IRA.’
They applauded that last part.
‘Minister Dunis?’
‘I don’t agree that Roskov is the best bet for peace, far from it, he’s pandering to men with blood on their hands, and it’s illegal to hand money to known terrorists.
‘In the end he’ll be seen and judged to have done more harm than good I’m sure.’
‘Roskov?’
‘What a dose of verbal manure,’ I let out with a sigh, earning an applause from the audience. ‘To start, I was encouraged by the Prime Minister – her boss - to enter the talks and to do what I could to help the peace process.
‘I was given the contact details of the IRA by men in MI5, after the Prime Minister agreed to it. At each stage I informed the Prime Minister of what I was doing, and why.
‘I have never handed money to the IRA, or anyone known to be associated with terrorist organisations. I have persuaded companies to invest in Northern Ireland to help the dire job situation there, and I asked for Catholics to work in Corsica as a way to help the province. None of those builders are wanted, they all have passports and they all flew via Paris.
‘But let me make one point clear. If, one day, the IRA came to me and said that they’d stop setting off bombs in Britain if I paid them ten million a year, then I’d pay them ten million a year to save lives. More.’
The audience applauded that.
‘I’ll hand over most of the money I make if it saves lives here in Britain, for those with a doubt about that, and I already hand much of what I make to charity.
‘I have nothing to gain from dealing with the IRA, other than what a decent person might gain from stopping their fellow human beings from killing each other.’
The audience applauded.
‘Should we hang onto the province because British soldiers died there? No, of course not. Should we hang onto the province because we’re damn well responsible for supporting the Protestants and causing the damn trouble in the first place – yes we should.
‘So we’re kind of stuck, because we can’t abandon the Protestants to their fate, but I would guess that Dublin running the province would make it a quiet place very quickly, and without soldiers or police on the streets.
‘Does Dublin want to take over the province? Only at the risk of bankrupting itself, because the province has many unemployed people, many pensioners, and little industry.
‘What’s needed … is a cool head from an outsider, not patriotism and passion, anger and bullets. What’s needed are jobs, now and in the past, so that’s what I’m tackling, and that’s what’s already having an effect, a good effect.
‘The IRA have called a ceasefire, they’ve told me that they’ll stick to it so long as I’m involved in the province, and I believe their words. The INLA is a different matter, an unpredictable group.
‘If the job situation keeps improving, then the bombs will not be going off here in Britain, and we can all relax and not worry about our local shopping centre blowing up.
‘What’s needed is time, a year or two so that I can fix the job situation, then the real talks start, and they start when no one is angry or pointing a gun.’
The audience clapped.
‘Next question, Peter from Southampton, who must have driven here in terrible weather.’
‘Why is investment in nursing homes coming from abroad and not our own government?’
A few in the audience laughed as I smiled at the man.
‘Minister Dunis?’
‘There are a great many nursing homes in this country, my mother is in one, and it has excellent facilities, and I can sleep well at night knowing that she’s getting the best of care.’
I was shaking my head.
‘Roskov?’
‘The first thing she thinks of is her own mother in a posh nursing home.’ They audience applauded me. ‘I think about poor pensioners in council houses, lonely and afraid, that’s where I differ to a government minister; I think about the people of this country, the voters, and not my own family first!’
The audience applauded louder.
‘Jack Straw?’
‘Roskov’s Three-Phase idea will be solidly backed by a new Labour Government, and we are looking at loans to speed up the process, so that pensioners in council houses are looked after properly, and their happiness and their mental wellbeing is a part of that process.’
The audience clapped modestly.
‘Thorpe?’
‘I wouldn’t put a dog in most of our British nursing homes, and we all worry about ending up in one. Now that Roskov is building them I don’t worry about growing old in bad health any longer.’
The audience applauded loudly.
‘Next question, Sara from Bournemouth.’
‘What’s the panels view on the proliferation of homeless shelters here in Bournemouth attracting homeless alcoholics from the north and even from Scotland?’
‘Mister Thorpe, you’re local.’
‘My understanding is … that the people that run these homes make money, and that the council also makes some money from Central Government, so that should answer your question for you.’
‘Minister Dunis?’
‘There’s no law that prevents a person from moving around simply because they’re an alcoholic, or mostly homeless, each council has an obligation to treat them and assist them.’
‘Yet they don’t,’ Dimbleby puzzled.
‘The situation is nowhere near as bad as Roskov makes it out to be.’
Dimbleby began, ‘I think that the lady asking the question has issues with it. Members of the audience, raise your hand if you’re worried about this issue in Bournemouth. Well … that’s everyone. Roskov?’
‘It has been known about for a while, alcoholics and homeless people being handed bus and train tickets if they go live somewhere else and become someone else’s financial burden.
‘But part of it … is the idea that the weather is better down here, that there’s a nice beach and nice parks, so people gravitate to the nice places they visited as kids.
‘Should it happen, no, because they’re a burden on the local police, the NHS, and local Social Services, who don’t get all they need from Central Office, local taxpayers end up paying more.
‘Should large numbers of homeless people from the north be allowed to move down here, no, because they’re not due a holiday, they should find a local place to live and find some local work – with our help.’
The audience clapped, but then again they were biased locals.
‘Jack Straw?’
‘I had never considered that it happened, homeless people able to move around the country; I would want to assist them where they live. And if local slum landlords are profiting from them, then the homes should be closed down.’
The audience clapped again.
A window smashing caused heads to turn, since it was very loud, and the large and apparently dead seagull was an odd sight to see in a studio as the storm raged through the broken window.
I jumped out of my seat and got to the large white bird as a table was up-ended against the window. Knelt over the bird and touching it, I felt the slight tingle before I felt a stronger tingle climb up my spine and shoot down my arms.
Standing, I carried the large white bird back to the desk and sat, its wings now folded, Dimbleby most put out as the bird started to come around. ‘It’s just stunned, it should be OK.’
The bird focused on me.
I began, as if talking to a child, ‘What were you doing flying around in this weather, eh? You should have been going through the trash cans like the other seagulls.’
The audience laughed.
‘We can’t film with you holding a huge bird,’ Dimbleby complained.
‘I held a rat, so why not. Next question please.’
The audience laughed as Dimbleby tried to control his annoyance. ‘Mark from Bournemouth?’
‘Should we do more to control seagulls as pests?’
The audience laughed.
‘Hey,’ I called. ‘The bird heard that! Have a heart will you.’
Dimbleby shot me daggers. ‘Jack Straw?’
Smiling, Straw began, ‘They can be a nuisance, yes, but the answer is to properly dispose of our waste and not to feed them. Then they go back to catching fish.’
‘Roskov?’ came from an irritated presenter.
I put my ear close to the bird’s beak. ‘What’s that, you like a bag of chips? Salt and vinegar? Better than catching a fish?’
I eased back as the audience laughed. ‘Well here’s the thing, bird. You evolved over millions of years to catch fish, not eat a bag of chips, but that’s our fault for dumping our unwanted chips on the floor, on a coastline, so we’re to blame.’
‘Can you get rid of the damn bird?’ Dimbleby hissed.
I asked, ‘Is there anyone in the audience that loves animals?’
A lady came forwards. ‘I worked at the local shelter part time, we had many a seagull.’
I stood and handed over the heavy bird. ‘Take good care of it, its evolutionary left turn was our fault. Wait.’ I fetched out a hundred quid. ‘For the shelter.’ I sat.
‘Can we quickly get back to normal?’ Dimbleby complained as men blocked the window.
‘And which version of the show will people remember the most…’ I posed, and Dimbleby had a revelation.
He faced the floor manager. ‘Yes, leave the damn bird footage in.’
‘We’re almost out of time.’
‘One final thing,’ I began. ‘We’re responsible for seagulls being a nuisance, so don’t blame the beautiful birds, eh.’
The audience applauded loudly.
‘We’re off,’ came a voice as Jack Straw smiled widely.
I turned to Dimbleby, ‘Not my fault that a bird came through the bloody window in a storm. And all of the animal lovers of the country will have something to say.’
He looked momentarily worried. ‘It went to the shelter, so … a happy ending.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ I warned him. ‘Had you advocated putting it in a plastic bag in the trash … your life would have been at risk.’
He looked suitably worried.
Back at the rental house, after driving through a terrible storm, I had a shower and a cup of tea before the programme aired. Bill and Ted cursed Minister Dunis, but I had not told them about the bird, Pat and Dingle sworn to secrecy.
The window breaking could be heard, and the twins frowned as I rushed out of my seat, and I was soon seen back with a large white seagull.
‘Oh my God!’ Rita gasped.
‘The storm, the bird flew into the window,’ I explained.
Bill and Ted fell about laughing as I held the huge bird whilst looking very silly.
The BBC 10pm news came on, and I dominated it. ‘Roskov does it again,’ the presenter complained. ‘First he demolished Minister Dunis, and then a seagull demolished a window, Roskov picking up the bird and nursing it as he tried to continue the show…’
Rolf called, they often watched the BBC news, and then Blair called.
‘Did you train that bird to hit the damn window?’ Blair asked.
‘No, just a freak accident.’
‘You trashed Dunis, she looked so small, she was squirming. And that episode of Question Time will be remembered, not least for the look on Dimbleby’s face. Here in the hotel the roof nearly came in from the laughter, hundreds of us watching it.’
An empire to run, from cold wet Leicester
Back in the office Tuesday morning, and I had faxes and letters to look at, as well as a few printed emails, one from the builder in Bournemouth, the man with the hillside to use for a planned Three-Phase nursing home.
After clearing my desk, I grabbed Bill and David and we drove in the minibus with Pat and Dingle, the short journey up to Derby. Through the grubby and dilapidated town centre, after passing some very dated houses, we eventually found the site, and we found the council officers waiting in their car.
As we parked they eased out, hands shaken, and they had not been waiting long. From the outside, the mill did indeed look dated, made of dated local stone, but the waterwheel and the canal would add to its appeal greatly.
There was a second building, one built just thirty years ago and now disused, and the total square acreage was good, in that we could build a good-sized Phase One with a view of both the canal and of distant green hills.
Inside the large mill, we clattered up dated stairs past dusty old wooden floors and to the top, a great view from up here, and the floor space was plenty big enough for a Three-Phase.
The lead council officer told me, ‘The price for the land is just five hundred thousand to you.’
‘That’s very cheap…’
‘We want it developed, and … it has no interest.’
‘Then I think we can buy it and build a nursing home quickly, a nice view for the residents. What’s the local situation like, pensioners and council assistance?’
‘Fucking dire. We have more pensioners than people under sixty-five, a small local workforce.’
‘Hence the desire for a large Three-Phase. We’ll make some plans and get started, but find me a second site as well.’
‘There is one, a factory pulled down, fifty acres, edge of town.’
‘Send me the details for that as well.’
‘Be done very damn soon,’ he promised.
After a good look around at the waterwheel and canal we headed back, it was cold today, and David would make the purchase as well as look at the second site with Bill.
Back in the office at 2pm, and Ross Daniels called. ‘We had a doctor check out the guy with arthritis in the local news in Corsica, and they checked his past records, spoke to the family and his local doctor, and he’s genuine, and genuinely up and out of the wheelchair and jogging.
‘The nursing home now has eight people with arthritis that are moving again, so the water suppresses the pain nicely. Here in the States, and they have six days of data, which is insignificant of course, but the arthritis sufferers are losing the pain and starting to move – the ones that took the concentrate.’
‘So we’ll make a buck selling it then.’
‘It’s now seven Euro a bottle, and they call it Mandoch Champagne already.’
I smiled. ‘Expensive for the locals, yes, but they don’t need much of it. Figure a way to ship it to the States and Europe cheaply.’
‘We have the ships, just that we need to move a lot of it in one go. But we can add it in with other cargo and move it cheaply.’
‘Any hassle down at Mandoch Valley?’
‘There’s a leaky pipe, and the builders drink the water.’
‘Fix the leak, but add a small tap so that people working in the valley can take some.’
‘We need to keep them happy, yeah. The cave hotel is coming along they said, and they’ve laid foundations for the nursing home, dug out a few areas for villas. There are now a hundred and twenty Irish lads in the valley, huts for them.’
‘The Irish don’t drink plain water.’
He laughed. ‘Fuck no.’
‘And Scorfo Valley?’
‘Is looking like a building site, mud everywhere, cranes and diggers. The canals are done just about, the water course to be diverted soon, and the promenade area has been dug out, pumps running to keep the seawater out.
‘The promenade is a mile long, and in the middle it’s half a mile wide, soon to be full of concrete, the pipes going in.’
My next called was Armani at the Vatican.
‘Ah, Roskov, I was due to call you.’
‘About the spring water?’
‘Yes, we’re seeing some very good results, yet mixed.’
‘Mixed how?’
‘Some old bishops react well to it, others don’t seem to react at all.’
‘There’s something unpalatable that you’re not saying out loud.’ I waited.
After a long pause came, ‘That the water is blessed, and … will help blessed people only.’
‘Might have to face facts, if it causes the cross to glow, that some of your staff are … out of favour.’
‘Something I considered yet … hoped was not the case.’
‘And the best results?’
‘My old mentor, who has undergone a remarkable recovery.’
‘You can sing its praises, because that will make me some money, but no mention of the mixed results – and why we suspect that they were mixed results.’
‘Of course.’
I called back Ross Daniels. ‘There’s a problem in the Vatican, in that they’ve been giving the water to old and sick clergy.’
