Back Right to Kill Save as PDF
Chapters (60)
  1. Cover
  2. Note to Readers
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. Thursday
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. Friday
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. Saturday
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. Sunday
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. Monday
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. Tuesday
  48. 39
  49. 40
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. 43
  53. 44
  54. 45
  55. Wednesday
  56. 46
  57. Epilogue
  58. 47
  59. Acknowledgements
  60. About the Publisher

He skirted Cleckheaton town centre and drove up past Tesco, its car park already three-quarters full. Beyond that was a large mill building. It bore down on everything with a kind of natural arrogance, a presumption so casual that its very presence was easy to overlook. Wouldn’t be a mill now. Flat conversions and business units, perhaps.

He drove past it as he made his way up the valley side and out of town. What does a mill town do once its heart is ripped out, when the mills have closed down? He had no idea. But the rows of tightly packed terraced houses in the shadows of the mill looked solid enough, in good condition. They were larger than the one in which Jane Shaw now sat alone, wondering why her son was dead.

On he went, and the terraces soon gave way to larger, stone-fronted houses. Then trees began to appear, mature sycamores and chestnuts amid the buildings. Less than a mile out of town and already the neighbourhood had changed entirely. Judging by some of the older houses, this would have been where the mill owners and their managers lived, higher up, away from the smoke and the grime. The natural order of things.

Ahead of him was a double-decker bus. It indicated and pulled in, coughing out a little puff of blue diesel smoke as it came to a halt by the kerb. Something caught his eye as he braked. Lobster. Large clear letters on a white background. The Lobster Pot.

The bus was already pulling away by the time he was out of his car and standing in front of the poster, which had been fixed to the end panel of the bus stop, a fresh piece of clear Sellotape in each corner.

The Lobster Pot

Modern society: A fresh view

How many things are you not allowed to do or say anymore?

  • Tell a woman she’s looking good? Sexist pig!
  • Clip a naughty kid behind the ear? Abuser!
  • Criticize a racial or religious group? Racist!

‘Special interest groups’ now dominate the political debate: radical feminism, ethnic minorities, gays and lesbians, transgender, immigrants’ rights… It’s a wonder there’s anyone left.

But a lot of us are left. And we’re becoming an endangered species: the Great White Male (GWM) and the Great White Female (GWF).

How did we get here? And who’s responsible?

Modern society simply ignores inconvenient truths (ethnic grooming gangs, criminal immigrant networks…), and it’s now borderline illegal to say certain things (kids need a mother and a father, corporal punishment works…).

The truth can be uncomfortable, but our discussions are open to everyone and are a space for free speech and expression.

Let’s build an alternative view of society, one based on decency, honesty and common sense.

All we ask for is an open mind!

Cleckheaton Library, every Tuesday, 7.30 p.m.