The RMT conference to build a new mass party of the working class was literally only days away and
Cockers still hadn’t managed to get any railway workers to it. Cockers had put an oily rag in his dufflecoat
pocket and smeared some dirt on his face to look like a railway driver and Ginger has a Thomas the Tank
engine badge. Him and Ginger had arrived at the railway station with some leaflets. They were handwritten
as as the John Bull printing set that Ginger had got for Xmas had run out of ink , and there were only five
as Cockers wrist was aching from writing .This had meant that they kept giving them out and then asking if
they had read it and then asking for it back or picking themback off the floor and unscrewing them. It
hadn’t gome as well as expected . Mr Crow the station master had politely told them that he had
voted Lib Demin the last election and themasked to see their platformtickets.As they were being
sheparded out Violet Elisabeth and her mother passed them.
‘Hallo boys,’ said Violet Elizabeth ‘We are going shopping, and I am going to get some new clothes so I
can look just like Rosa Luxemburg.What are you doing?’
‘We’ve just been asked to leave the station.’ said Cockers truthfully, ‘We were giving out leaflets about
building a new mass party of the working class but we were asked to leave because we didn’t have a
platform ticket
‘Asked to leave?’ said Violet Elisabeth’s mum, who although she occasionally bought the WeeklyWorker
for the gossip wasn’t sectarian. ‘ That’s very petty, what platform were you standing on?’
‘A full revolutionary one.....’ began Ginger before catching Cockers glare.
‘Well we’d better hurry up ,goodbye boys’ bade Violet Elisabeths mum.
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Not detered Cockers had later pursuaded Ginger and Violet Elisabeth that the next best thing was to visit
the man who looked after the minature railway in the park and who in the summer sat on the front of the
train.’Mr Jones must be in some sort of union’ he assured Ginger.
Mr Jones was fit for his age but at 74 was a bit deaf. Cockers approached himand spoke loudly and
slowly ‘do you want to sign this petetion for a new mass party of the working class?’
Mr Jones stared at him cocking his head to one side.Cockers took a deep breath,’ Do you want to sign
this petition for a mass party of the working class?’ he bellowed.
Mr Jones suddenly smiled and came to life, ‘Bit late,’ he said Is it this year or next?’
‘It’s in a couple of weeks time in Bristol,’ replied Ginger eagerly, wondering what Mr Jones meant by ‘bit
late’ but then thought that actually new labour had been in for some time now.
‘Bristol?’ said Mr Jones loudly ,’ Bit far away, how are you all getting there? Coach? ‘
‘Well we haven’t worked that out yet’ replied Cockers but then summoning up courage bellowed ‘Why do
you want to go? Do you support it?’
‘Oh yes’. Said Mr jones loudly and reached into his pocket and brought out a fiver.’here’ he said ‘Put this
towards it. It’s a good cause. Well I thought they had got rid of those years ago, my grandfather was in it
when they were common.’
Cockers stroked his chin, the dirt on his face had merged with the goatee beard that he had drawn on with
his mums eyeliner pencil and struck his pose that reminded him of Trostsky at his desk. Mmm he thought
Mr Jones was easily old enough to be in the Communist Party, that would have meant that Mr Jones
granddad would have been in then second probably first International.There were loads of mass workers
parties kicking around then.
‘Did he meeet Engels?’ Cockers shouted.
Mr Jones looked even more mystified You’ll have to speak up and more clearly young’un , are you eating
licorice? I ama bit deaf, but I will get you some more signatures at the Labour Club.’
Cockers was well impressed ‘Do you think they will sign?’ he said eagerly , moving his lips like that
woman off Tony Hart.
‘Of course they will they are all for things like that , they remember the old days’ said Mr Jones
Cockers was as pleased as a Russian invading Afghanistan with Fifth international backing .The central
committee would be very proud. He might even get his picture on the website or be asked to speak at a
conference.Or mentioned by name in Weekly Worker. The Socialist Party would be very jealous of him,
especially Nigel Irritable.But what would he say when he had to address the Labour Club?
‘I will just go and see the Chairman.Can you wait outside they don’t normally allow under 18s in here’said
Mr Jones.
Whilst they waited outside Cockers glanced in the mirror to see if his goetee beard that he had drawn on
with his mothere eyeliner pencil wasn’t smudged. He had doubts in his mind. He had to be clear headed
this was a crucial historical situation in a pre revolutionary period. Perhaps he would need to strike a
similar pose to Lenin when he was addressing the Soviet, full of zeal, confident,leaning to one side, using his
hands. After al lMr Jones had promisd lots of signatures so it was jus a question of the right slogan really.
Mr Jones came back out and beckoned them in . On the door was a notice for the Cheadle over 65s
luncheon club. Mr Jones and the boys went on to the stage and the Chairman banged his pint pot with a
fork for attention. People stopped talking and the noise lowered to silence. Cockers cleared his throat
nervously , it was just like it said in What is to Be Done, the vanguard putting over revolutionary ideas
to reformist workers,even if they were retired and therefore unproductive, who remembered the bad
days..He stood by Mr Jones.
Mr Jones squinted and announced to the assembled luncheon club;
“ Right ladies and gentlemen ...” Cockers made a mental note to address them as brothers and sisters
rather than comrades.
“Right ladies and gentlemen, these lads are collecting for a Xmas party for the workhouse and I want you
all to give generously”,turning to Cockers he asked “Do you want to say anything or have I said enough.?”
Ginger went red,Violet Elisabeth began to feel sick.Cockers went redder and felt sicker than he had ever
done before. “No I think that’s enough really.Thanks.I think we had better get home for tea”