The European Enigma (LSD, #9)

13. The English Exit

The English Exit

The man in the grey raincoat looked around, carefully. The alley was deserted. He hid his face under his grey Humphrey Bogart hat, took his phone, and called the number: "We have to talk. It's urgent."

"Where?"

"Go to Bar Central. Take the emergency exit at the back. Ten minutes from now."

The depressing drizzle fought the stink of garbage and rats. Graffiti on the walls shouted for attention. A radio in an open window on the fifth floor played a forgotten song by Brenda Lee. The man with the raincoat checked his watch: two minutes left.

The exit door opened. A nervous woman stepped outside, closed the door behind her, and looked around. The man gestured: come over here. He headed for the dark end of the alley, making the woman hurry to follow him.

"What's so urgent?", she asked, panting.

"We want you to start a new campaign. After Brexit, we need you to take the next step."

The woman didn't understand: "Why?"

"Money, glory, power. It's better for England and it's better for you, personally."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Convince the people about the success of Brexit. Use it to make them wish not only to leave the European Union, but to leave the entire continent. We team up with Ireland, the Faeroe Islands, Iceland, Cape Verde, even Greenland and Antarctica, and form a new continent: Atlantis. Brainwash the British: the rest of Europe only benefits from England, without giving us anything in return. We're better off without them. It's cheaper too..."

The woman thought for a while, striding beside the man in the raincoat. Then she nodded firmly: "Our language, our Shakespeare, our Yorkshire Pudding, our traffic rules to drive on the much safer left side of the road... We will keep all our blessings for ourselves. The rest of Europe will be sorry to live without us."

The man in the raincoat gave her a surprised look: "That's the spirit. Colour up the story: the rest of Europe refused to abandon their complicated decimal weights and distances because they are too stupid to understand the easier British systems. Should we insist on an embargo on the English language too? The Americans won't like that. Perhaps it's better to let them pay royalties for the usage."

The woman agreed: "I like that idea. Freedom of English speech is only for the ones who pay for it. English is ours. How about sports?"

"We step out of the European tournaments and organize our own, of course. In the years 1976 until 1984, we had 7 English winners of the Champions League in 8 years, but after that, we've suffered 33 years with just four cups: Liverpool, Chelsea and twice Manchester United, three wins after penalties and the fourth after two miraculous goals in the extra time. We're not getting our share. It's better to start our Atlantis Champions League where the best teams of the Premier League play against the champions of Iceland, Greenland, Scotland and Ireland. More money, more glory and more power for our beloved England."

The woman took a decision: "You're right. I'll start the campaign tomorrow. We'll need three months to brainwash the voters, and one round of elections. Around next Christmas, we can be on our own."

The man in the raincoat offered his hand to close the deal: "Thanks. You won't regret it."

He left the dark alley, his face hidden under his soaked hat, and disappeared around the corner. The woman turned and went back the way she came, to avoid someone seeing the two together. She flashed a modest smile: this was going to work. She already had a slogan: "Make England great again", or perhaps "England First!" would be better. Atlantis. Britain rules the waves. Close that awful tunnel to Calais. She was looking forward to it.

Three blocks to the east, the man in the grey raincoat looked around. He was not being followed. He crossed the street and entered a multi-storey car park, taking the stairs to the top floor. After making sure the floor was empty, he took his phone and called a number: "It's me, #3, the Diplomat. She took the bait. We'll have to be patient, it might take a year or so, but after that, we won't have any problems with English clubs trying to win the Champions League. My next stop will be in Barcelona. It looks like those Catalans also think that being alone is better than working together."

"Good. We've bought all the shares of PSG from the Arab owners. For the price of one player, we can build a giant stadium in Luxembourg. We can move the club to our beloved city around Christmas and win the Champions League next season."

The man in the raincoat smiled: "And the season after that, and the next, and the next... With all that money on secret accounts of our banks, our successes in football will be guaranteed for the next decade."