The M4 project was a follow on from the earlier “A1” feature (itself a sequel to “Northern Line”) — I’m serious! A1 had involved me and Simon Evans spending weekend after weekend travelling up and down the A1 documenting as many places as possible. To our shame, we only got as far as Washington — but I calculated that the money we’d spent on that article would have funded a flight to California by the time we were done.
“M4” was a much more modest affair. In fact it was really only about Newbury, but the working title stuck. I suspect it’s something to do with the way the M4 has played a major role in my life since 1976. I’m very tired of that road.
Pictures on this page show Leighton Dyer, Rob Blythe and Paul Freeman. The text was one of those dubious bits of fiction which we would occasionally run, just to try something different. I suspect most people hated them. Sorry!

DISCONNECTION

A Tale Of Isolation, Alienation And The M4

Zed sat staring at the piles of paper and foam — it was his third visit to McDonald’s that night and he felt very bored and slightly sick. Two shakes, one large orange juice, a diet Cola and two hot chocolates had seen to that. Tired of exploring the drink permutations, he waited for the queues to die down and thought about buying a hamburger he did not need. There was nothing else to do.

There was a security guard on duty that night. Zed watched as the guard went over to a group of kids sitting at the next table: “Back again?” said the guard. He wasn’t hassling them. “What else is there to do in this town?” replied the kid. They knew the routine, they’d both been through it a dozen times. “Guess you’re right,” the guard grinned and sat down at the back of the booth, “I’m just doing my job. I’m on probation and if the management don’t see me keeping an eye on you, they come down on me.” They sat there, saying not much, for a while, then the guard got up and went back to work.

Zed noticed that the guard had an American accent. It seemed strange — here he was in a place which came on as more American than America while remaining unmistakably British — why would an American chose to work there? But of course: there wasn’t that much choice involved. Like the kid said: ‘what else is there to do in this town?’

The town was in the middle of England, half way between somewhere and somewhere else. Ideally situated in fact, like most ‘mid’ towns. Ideally situated for going somewhere else and feeling, for that very reason, like the middle of nowhere.