‘Here’s to our new prime minister.’ She raised a glass in mock celebration. ‘And here’s to the Freedom Bill. And here’s to Dougie Glenister and Rod Houghton. Fucking good men. They won’t let us down and they’ll carry on the work in the nick.’

For a moment, they stood in silent tribute.

‘Look, I know you were pissed off that I couldn’t protect Houghton,’ said O’Brien. ‘But Hogarth wasn’t in the briefings from police about the hunt for him – I only knew they were on to him after he’d been nicked. But now Hogarth’s Home Sec, we’ll be in the loop in the future.’

‘And she’s no idea about any of this?’ The older of the men waved around the room.

‘Not a fucking clue. She trusts me and that means we’ll have the inside track for the next campaign. So here’s to Chilton Park and Pall Mall. And, yes, Leeds was unlucky, but we were close. Two out of three isn’t bad. Fourteen words! We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children!’

They repeated the phrase and raised their glasses.

‘What next?’ asked the older man.

‘We make noise. The Home Secretary’s been told there’s a major Muslim terror attack imminent. Could be this weekend, could be early next week. The police have no clue what the target is, but we want to be ready. Our people are champing at the bit, so when those wankers hit us, we are ready to hit back. I want to prime our people. Get them so fucking cross that when the Muslims murder again, they’ll be ready. Get leafleteers out at the gay march, in Oxford Street, at the marathon and at Wembley for the football match.

‘Every time the Muslims kill one person, they sign up another one thousand to our cause. And each thousand supporters bring us ten more soldiers – that’s enough for another cell. I want to build an army. And Hogarth’s on the rise thanks to the attack at her house, so well done for that one, mate.’ She raised a glass in mock toast to the younger of the men. He grinned.

‘It was a piece of piss, like shooting a fish in a barrel,’ he said.

‘More like missing a fish in a barrel, but don’t do yourself down,’ said O’Brien. ‘It took a lot of guts, and you did a good job. It’s easy to kill someone at ten feet, but a lot harder to maim them, so good marksmanship. You turned her into a martyr. The police, and Hogarth, are convinced it was the Muslims and it means Hogarth’s influence – and our influence – is all the greater. Remember the slogan – the Armalite and the ballot box. It bought power for those IRA cunts, it will work the same for us.’

She raised a glass to the two men. ‘To England. Fourteen words.’

#

Cumbria

Jennifer Hall rarely watched the news. In fact, she rarely put on the TV until Emmerdale at seven. But she’d been feeling headachy all day and she found herself at a loose end with a cup of tea on her knee and the remote control in hand an hour earlier than usual.