THE J MAN AND ED MILIBAND

Seeing how the comically treacherous 'Gromit' of politics, Ed Miliband, has found his way back into high office to become the nation's Net Zero Czar, I was reminded of the time he was sat opposite me in a bistro lounge in my local town and cut a lonely figure, still very much in political exile after his disastrous 2015 election campaign which included the infamous 'Ed Stone'.

In a sort of Millbank HQ version of 'The Godfather Part II', who could possibly forget Ed’s famous stabbing in the back of his brother David who has since become the sort of 'forgotten man' of Davos, his return to frontline politics hoped for like the second coming of Blair. Back in '15, Ed's betrayal of his better looking, and supposedly smarter, older brother felt as if Fredo Corleone had anticipated Michael's assassination attempt on him in the fishing boat and murdered him instead, instantly becoming the head of the family. Can you imagine? Actually I can. The Godfather Part 3 (Miliband Cut) would have been a depressingly anti climatic and unromantic gangster film where the least charismatic family member of the Corleone tribe would have had full access to the levers of power only to squander it in some feckless manner that ended with a bloodless whimper not a bang. The trouble for Ed was, in reality his betrayal (at least at that time) was all in vain back in 2015 when he lost the election to David Cameron.

So there was Ed, with his badger striped hair, looking as if someone had run a paint roller across the top of his head wandering around in the shadow of Corbyn trying to see how many people remembered who he was in the aftermath of his disastrous attempt to become PM. Of course, he had inevitably ended up in the activist town of Stroud which is often a microcosm, a sort of middle class politics kitchen for the Waitrose 'Bolsheviks'.

And then there was me. And the J Man.

The J Man whom I've written about previously (Jan 16, 2023) had had some tools stolen on a construction site where he was working and was in a black mood, suspecting one of his crew in a sort of bricks and mortar version of 'Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy'.

"Hey Maxie. Come, drown some sorrows with me, boy."

I was heading in the opposite direction but when you get the call from the J Man, you have to answer it.

Sat around a circular table on high bar stools, the J Man who, with his makeshift black bandana and noticable facial scar resembled more a bandit than a builder, brought the first round of pints over to the table, spilling the tops onto the floor as if he was deliberately marking his territory.

"Cheers!'

Knocking our glasses together like pair of clattering bowling balls, the J Man damn near drank the entire pint before finally taking a breath and curling his lower lip round the top one to catch the foamy residue of his beer.

"What a fucking morning."

"You want to talk about it?"

"Nah. I want to kill."

Sensing the murderous intent in his eyes I quickly got another pint in for him. It was the least I could do. Drinks speak louder than words at such times.

By the time I'd returned to the table I saw that the J Man had his bloodshot eyes fixed on a man sitting in the corner of the bar scrolling on his phone. It was the ex-leader of the Labour Party and with a shaking of his head and a smirking scowl, the J Man looked at me as if to suggest little surprise at the inevitability of such men crashing back down to earth and finding themselves amongst the peasants.

"Ed fucking Miliband".

"That's cheered you up," I proffered, sensing a lightening of the J Man's mood.

"Yep. Things might be bad Maxie but they're not ever as bad as being Ed, fucking 'Pepé Le Pew‘ Miliband."

At which point, my drinking companion was on a roll and he shouted across the bar to the nearly PM.

"Alright there, Ed! What you got there? Bacon sandwich?"

Pretending not to hear the West Country drawl of the J Man, Miliband kept scrolling.

"You can scroll all you want, but you can't hide, Ed."

Taking another prolonged sip of his pint, the J Man then laughed to himself in a Jack Nicholson type of way.

Continuing with his one way conversation with the ex-politician, the J Man seemed to enjoy this non-exchange more than the practically non-exchange with me.

"It's alright, Badger. It's all love. Welcome to Stroud. You here for anything nice?"

And still no answer.

"If you want a pint Ed, I'll get you one. But if you're sticking to the J20s we get it. You got a reputation to maintain. I got not much left of mine. I'm finally freeeeee."

Cue more Nicholson-like laughter.

Until this point, the contrast between the J Man and Ed Miliband hadn't occurred to me. My friend had lost his tools, Miliband had lost his political career (albeit temporarily). Both men had also had fierce sibling rivalries at times.

"How's your brother, Ed? Still on the Christmas card list?'

I thought about breaking up the one way chat the J Man was having with Ed but thought better of it. It seemed to be cathartic for him in light of having a bad morning.

"If you're in need of work, Ed, I might have an opening for you. I'm about to fuck one of my crew off as we speak. Cunt stole me tools."

This development piqued my interest.

"So you know who it was who took them?"

"Yeah. That's him now."

Noticing the J Man's phone moving of its own volition across the beer soaked table vibrating from an incoming call, I was curious to see if he was going to let it go the distance and fall off the end like a shiny lemming.

But before it did, he grabbed it and answered it as casually as if he had not a care in the world.

Listening to the J Man's one way telephone call whilst fascinated by the isolated-looking Ed Miliband, I briefly speculated on what type of Prime Minister my scar-faced friend would have been and strangely, I thought pretty effective. It seemed that he had the diplomatic patience to not blow his top while his guilty culprit, pretending to know nothing about the missing tools, attempted to pull the wool over his eyes.

Ending the call as calmly as he had received it, the J Man seemed relaxed now, secure in the knowledge of who had betrayed him.

Then, as he looked back to Ed, I saw the J Man suck his teeth before declaring in Corleone fashion; "there's another treacherous bastard."

And with that, the J Man seemed no longer compelled to further attempt to engage with the Aardman-looking Miliband.

"Let's have another pint, shall we Maxie?"

J Man headed to the bar as the man who would have been Prime Minster stood up to leave.

"You off now, Ed? Don't leave it so long next time, eh?"

With the J Man having resolved (at least in his mind) his work issue, I found a certain satisfaction in having played my small part in sitting in the eye of the storm while it had played out over a few pints.

Seeing Miliband these past few days all hyper on his socials and rejuvenated by his new cabinet position, it made me reflect how for all the seeming hopelessness of his situation back then, he, too, resolved his work issue.

No doubt he won't remember his (sort of) encounter with the J Man, too busy making deals with eco barons such as Dale Vince and the like.

But I do. ;-)