Brian Peacehaven’s back story was not so different from any other young man who just by chance got immersed in the bizarre world of British far right politics.
Comparatively well educated, via a Broadstairs primary school and a notable Thanet Grammar school, Brian had managed to successfully stay affixed on the straight and narrow till the divorce of his parents when he had reached the still tender age of fifteen. Like many an adolescent is similar circumstance the parting of his mother and father divided not only his family but also the moral and ethical boundaries that had previously kept his inherent wild streak in check.
He rapidly devolved into a rampant truant, began toying with minor criminal activities like theft and petty vandalism, and acted out violently at each and every available opportunity. He was rapidly excluded from school and was obliged by economic pressures, most notably his father’s sudden withdrawal of any financial support, to find suitable some means of income to aid his mothers to upkeep of their home. Most employment to his age group was very poorly rewarded, the one exception being anything tinged will illegality.
Brians relationship with violence did nor stem from any single issue or in indeed address any particular target, he was entirely capable if the necessity arose to turn his was aggression against anyone he chose, no matter gender, age, or physical capacity, he was an equal opportunity supplier of his particular brand of aggrievement. Brians brutish authority was feared and respected equally by all.
His and Graces father’s path had crossed quite innocently, simply because they frequented the same mesh of public houses dotted about the three main population centers on the Thanet island. coastline. All three towns had originally supported small fishing fleets and had the necessary harboring to protect numerous vessels against the local rough seas, with of course an abundance of requisite taverns that had in the not long distant past welcoming to a mainly seafaring clientele. Those same establishments were now the hidey-holes of both ne’er-do-wells and tourists alike. Grace’s Daddy and Brian Peacehaven were both natural denizens.
Having witnessed a particularly efficient piece of Brians debt collecting prowess the offer of the position as Graces regular protector, pimp, was a surefire conclusion. Brian carefully considered both the repercussions and the benefits of the position, and on reflection saw a most promising opportunity for financial stability and with her father’s utter blessing and consent some very pleasant regular companionship.
Brians transformation to the commander of the razers edge of the local right-wing militia had an equally haphazard origin. Major Henry Neville was one of Grace Prichard’s regular customers, had been since her father had first put her to work in her bedroom at home. Henry’s interest was now much more taken by Emma, Graces younger sister, but he would still on occasion visit his past infractions just for old times’ sake. Brian found Henry Neville useful. He provided Brian with authority, power, the capability to recruit and employ a number of bodies to do his bidding, willing and able to sacrifice themselves on the altar of fascism, eagerly, unquestioningly. Brian had quickly learned to walk the walk and talk to talk to instill utter obedience in his men.
Colonel Fergus Lothly had presented himself to the Home Secretary and having listened patiently to her bemoaning utterances was obliged to respond with some clear and precise candor.
“Home Secretary, with the best will in the world and the most accomplished publicists available, nobody can make reality echo outlandish falsehoods. We live in the twenty-first century, not the dark ages when lies well told could garner more belief than the honest truth.”
Herself was not well pleased with the nature of Fergus’s reply, or the unequivocal logic so meticulously expressed.
‘We find ourselves in a quandary, a pickle of some considerable tartness.”
Madam Home Secretary’s use of the third person when describing her own person was not lost on Lothly’s sense of the absurd.
“I am of course, as always, ready to assist in any way appropriate and permissible. “
Ferus’s subtext clearly highlighted the legal position to which he must conform in any of his future actions.
Daily Abstract Thoughts 