Fat Les shut him up. Tina planted a kiss on the cashier’s cheek, and the robbers piled into the camper and returned to Fox’s Farm.
The Plan continued in this way. Two or three petrol stations a night, picked at random and all distant from each other, was enough to finance The Plan, though there was little left over for frills. Sometimes the cashiers were less philosophical than others but they were fortunate in not meeting any heroes. Ishmael supposed that heroes were reluctant to accept jobs in petrol stations.
♦
What foolish things is Nina reminded of? Prostitution that became increasingly heavyweight as the war went on. When you will sell your soul for a pair of nylons, what price the body? And then the Yanks arrived — revaluation.
She supposes she’s a survivor, perhaps even a winner. In England Richard Huntingdon has had a second highly-praised book of poems published. They speak of love in sufficiently ambiguous terms to be acceptable to most sexual preferences. Nina’s so-so English will not enable her to determine whether there is some trace of herself somewhere in the poems, but she feels that surely there must be.
In Buchenwald Peter Baldung has shot himself in the head, but inexpertly, the bullet has done some damage but not enough and he is now in hospital with only enough brain left to allow feelings of intense well-being. Another winner.
Most foolish thing of all, Nina still has her Volkswagen savers’ card. She even managed to fill it. With the revalued Deutsch Mark her savings would be paltry enough, but imagine her anger and frustration when she learns that the 280 million Marks belonging to the savers were lodged in the German Labour Front’s Bank in Berlin, and that the bank has suddenly found itself in ‘East’ Berlin and that the Russians have taken the money as reparations. Now would that have happened with the British?
Nina has difficulty knowing on whom to vent her anger. On Hitler? On the Nazi Party? On Russia? She feels her anger will not make much of an impression there.
But how about the newly constituted Volkswagen company? How about Herr Nordhoff?
♦
Sunday lunchtime at the Castle Hotel, Crockenfield. Huddled in a corner, in a cloud of pipe and cigar smoke, talking urgently in hushed voices, are Marilyn’s father and half a dozen of the Crockenfield Blazers. Normally they position themselves expansively at the bar, order doubles and exchange anecdotes that confirm their rugged, mannish, world view. But today some shared hurt has made them introverted and hushed. A plaque on the pub wall above their heads reads ‘You are a stranger here but once’.
♦
Money, freedom, power, the old trinity — the power and freedom to buy friendship, status, sex, to jump queues, to buy the ‘better’ things in life. If you’ve got it…
What did Ishmael spend his stolen money on? The basics. He bought Volkswagen performance parts, modified engines, paint, old wrecks of Beetles that needed complete restoration, welding equipment, bullet-proof glass.
Fat Les set up a kingdom in exile in the outbuildings of Fox’s Farm. He could be found there most hours of the day or night, welding and tuning, stripping down and rebuilding, modifying and reconditioning.
♦
Rupert says, ‘It’s not just the money, though God knows Range Rovers don’t come cheap, it’s the thought of being beaten by a rabble, a few oiks, yahoos. That’s what really hurts.’
‘There were more than a few. There were twenty or thirty at least.’
‘And we weren’t beaten exactly. We gave as good as we got. We ran them out of the valley after all.’
‘Don’t talk rot, Colin. They left when they heard the police sirens. We were thrashed. We were trounced and piddled on.’
‘So they must have had military training — probably a bunch of renegade ex-marines.’
♦
In October 1948 K-d-f savers formed an association to battle with the reconstituted Volkswagen company over the reclamation of their lost contributions. It would be thirteen years and a few days before the legalities were settled by the German Supreme Court. Savers who still held their completed cards could receive six hundred Deutsch Marks off the price of ‘a new Volkswagen saloon (about £50), or they could take a hundred Deutsch Marks in cash.
Nina takes the money and buys a few bottles of wine. Tonight she is seeing her new boyfriend who works in the construction business. They will drink a bottle or two and go driving in his Opel Kadett.
♦
Every day Davey would go out shopping and return with heavy-duty shock absorbers, fan shrouds, oil coolers, forged crankshafts, state of the art performance heads, ductile iron rocker arms, titanium racing valves, sidewinder exhausts, unswept extractors, manifolds, sway bars, roll bars, and chain-link steering wheels. It was money well spent.
♦
‘If nothing else, I hope it teaches that wife of yours to keep the back door locked in future.’
Marilyn’s father has been staring into his malt whisky. He has been silent till now, though not subdued, more possessed of an unearthly calm. He has been savouring the memory of his one-man attack on Fat Les’s kingdom.
Now he says, ‘I don’t know whether she’ll learn or not. For some people it may already be too late. But for those of us with eyes to see, it all gives a pretty clear picture of the state of things.’
‘Sorry, not sure I’m quite with you.’
‘Those who aren’t with me are against me. It’s a beginning, only a beginning. There are forces abroad in this great country of ours, they go by many names — the working class, the unions, the media, blacks, feminists, anarchists, militants, Jews…’
‘Oh come off it, some of my best friends…’
‘Well perhaps not Jews then, but certainly the rest; they’re on the move, they’re at battle stations and we’re their target — the solid middle class, the decent folk, the entrepreneurs, the backbone of England.’
‘Thank God we’ve at least got the students under control these days.’
Marilyn’s father continues, ‘They want us. They want to spit on us, to crap on everything we stand for. It’s time to get fit, to arm ourselves morally and physically. There’ll be fighting in the street, rivers of blood I shouldn’t wonder. There’ll be winners and losers. I know which side I intend to be on.’
‘Well, I suppose you ought to know.’
‘Yes I did. I do. So, are you with me or are you against me?’
They all agree that they are provisionally with him.
‘All I can say,’ says Robin, ‘is that I’d like another crack at them, whoever they are.’
‘I’ll say.’
‘Hear, hear.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’
They all agree that they’ll drink to that.
‘I think there’d be a very different outcome if it ever came to a rematch.’
‘There will be a rematch,’ says Marilyn’s father. There will come a time. I feel it. I know it. And I’ll be ready.’
‘Rather.’
‘I’ll say.’
They agree that they’ll be ready. Shooting practice and keep-fit sessions are arranged, along with cross-country running, weight training, and research into survival techniques. Pipes are filled and relit. Another round of drinks is ordered. They decide they need something a bit stronger this time.