Free The Shadow of Treason by Edward Taylor Page B

policeman’s truncheon … all that, and nothing’s changed. The Establishment still rules, the bosses get fatter, the workers get thinner. Nothing’s really changed, has it?’
    Hunter was surprised. ‘Yes it has. The Trade Unions are stronger now, there’s unemployment benefit, safety regulations, welfare provisions …’
    ‘All marginal,’ said Collis. ‘Nothing like the real Socialist equality we dreamed of. I still do.’
    ‘So do I,’ said Hunter. ‘And that’s just round the corner, surely. As soon as the war’s over, Churchill has to call an election. And then we’ll see a huge Labour majority, I’m certain of it.’
    ‘Oh yes, of course there’ll be a Labour government. Under Clement Attlee. But how much do you think that will alter things? Attlee’s another toff. Bevin and Morrison have been sucked into the Establishment. There’ll be a few changes, of course. But small, and cosmetic. Nothing like radical enough.’
    ‘But they’ve promised extensive nationalization! The mines, the railways, steel, fuel, big chunks of industry! That’s what we’ve always wanted!’
    ‘Nationalization, yes. But have you heard the latest madness? They’re going to pay compensation to shareholders! They haven’t the guts just to take everything over, and to hell with the capitalists! The nationalized industries will start with huge debts hanging round their necks! It’ll be milk-and-water socialism, not the real thing!’
    ‘Well, you’re a Labour MP, Gerald. You can demand more ruthless policies.’
    ‘Don’t think I haven’t tried. But it’s no use. A lot of the leadership’s gone soft. Working with the Tories in the coalition hasdoused the fire in their bellies. They’re even prepared to keep the monarchy!’
    Hunter was downcast. ‘My God! You really think so?’
    ‘I know so. I’ve seen it all in close-up at meetings of the party executive. Our official leaders are Churchill’s lap-dogs. They’ll get power and they’ll waste it. Five years on, the Tories will be back!’
    ‘Bloody hell! What’s to be done?’
    It was the cue Collis had been waiting for. ‘Direct action, Martin. Direct action! There are a lot of us in the party who do still have fire in our bellies! We’re prepared to seize power and use it! Transform society! Create the democratic Britain you and I always yearned for!’
    ‘Direct action?’
    ‘It’s the only way. Take control of the state’s assets, and use them for the benefit of the people. Like Stalin did. And this is the year! There’ll never be a better opportunity! Are you interested ?’
    ‘Obviously. I have to be.’
    ‘Good. Because you can help. You’d have a role to play, Martin. Do you really want a genuinely socialist Britain?’
    ‘Of course I do.’
    ‘Even if it means breaking the law?’
    ‘We broke the law often enough in the old days.’
    It was the endorsement that Collis needed. As the two men completed their walk round the lake, he told Hunter of an audacious scheme. Carefully omitting names, dates and vital details, he outlined the plans he and his friends had made to change the face of Britain. Hunter listened in amazement and, Collis felt, with growing enthusiasm. Before they parted, he swore Hunter to secrecy, and promised to be in touch in the next few days. Then Hunter would hear the details and be told of his role in the operation.
    Throughout the afternoon, Hunter’s colleagues at the Ministry found him preoccupied. And so did his wife at home that night. He was wrestling with conflicting emotions, hisconscience pulled in different directions. He’d long ago rebelled against the stern traditionalist values instilled by his father, a non-conformist preacher. But those values had never quite left him.
    At ten o’clock he made the phone call that sealed his death warrant.

    Jane Hart had found the reunion with her mother less embarrassing than she’d feared. She’d anticipated close questioning about recent events. And, while