rough draft of chapter 2 of my book

Chapter 2 Bellenden road

90 Bellenden road was in a very nice part of Peckham, it had a front and back garden and it wasn’t on an estate and best of all I would have my own room, the only obstacle to over come is the fact that its not ours, a fact my mum didn’t let bother her, she went to the council and asked if she could moved in as it had been empty for some time but the people at the council said there were other people who would be offered the house before as they had been on the waiting list, so rather than admit defeat my mum climbed over the garages next door and threw a kettle through the back kitchen window to gain entry before noticing that the back door wasn’t actually locked. She had the locks changed and went back to the council claiming “squatters rights“ which basically mean that the council have to go through a lengthy, costly and time consuming procedure to evict you.

at the time the law stated that if you occupy a property for twelve years and one day that property would then become the property of the person occupying it, its a mad little number that the government have since got rid of but it was very useful at the time to us being able to have rights over a house that really didn’t belong to us.
So now we were squatters, we didn’t pay rent or council tax but being on the social as we were we wouldn’t of had to pay any of that anyways, its was all taken care of by the load bearing tax payers.

As a sort of moving in present ant boys mum Tina gave us a Labrador called Ben he was there dog before but I recon they just wanted to palm him off on someone else and us having a garden was all the excuse they needed, my mum dressed the act up as me having someone to play with, but how do I say this without sounding harsh?

I can’t fucking stand animals, I’m not cruel to them I just didn’t want to have the responsibility of looking after anyone or anything, I did love Ben and I fed him and all the stuff your supposed to do as a pet owner, but he wasn’t a replacement for a normal family that did normal things, he would run away quite often and when he was ready to come home jumped up at the letter box which was strange to understand, a dog knocking on the door to get in, I should of just give him a key, the clever little sod would of properly used it.


Now I needed to find a new primary school, I wasn’t doing too well at the pervious one so I had to start all over again making new friends with a group of people that had known each other most of there lives, and it just didn’t seem to happen for me at Bellenden primary, I didn’t really get on with anyone and I just wasn’t picking up what they were teaching, its didn’t help that I was always missing days, so if I never went on a Monday I would not go back until the following Monday, hoping that my absence want noticed, I would get up early enough, I just couldn’t face them, I would write notes of reasons of absence claiming non existent grandparents had died and I had to attend funerals in Ireland and my mum was really ill.
I am shocked now that social services were not called, but with all my excuses the fact of the matter was I just didn’t want to go to that school, I knew I was in danger of becoming uneducated and just like my family who none of them seemed to have jobs so I would wake up every morning and watch all the open university programes and learn what I could from them as well as programes like “how we used to live” which showed how life was before our parents and grandparents were born, I did pick up loads from those programes and my source of reading came solely from reading my mums sun newspaper after she had finished it.

Mondays were a big deal in our hose because that was when my mum got her social money, I remember it was about £62 a week as I was the one who had to go to the post office often enough to cash her book. Me and My mum would go shopping and get food for the week and more often than not she would spend the rest on going to the pub, at first I did have a baby sitter but I think my mum realized that I was independent enough to look after myself and I did prefer my own company to that of a stranger. I knew how to make lemon curd or peanut butter sandwiches and I knew how to wash my clothes in the sink so as far as I was concerned I was self sufficient.

It had been a while since I had my own bedroom, so Bellenden road was the beginning of me starting to have any sort of privacy. I had been sharing a bed with Jamie and sharing a room with my mum since we left St Georges Terrace which for a kid growing up doesn’t allow you to surround yourself with things that you need to develop like posters of kylie or just having somewhere to do your homework in peace, not that I have ever done any homework, but I’m sure you understand what I mean?
My first item that I managed to get for my room was a record player; mum bought it off her friend’s daughter Gail. It had a built in tape player and a radio on the front that you had to tune to the station you wanted with a big silver dial; it didn’t matter to me that it wasn’t new or even cool, I was just happy to have my music again.
I went to Woolworths in Peckham and bought my first ever records, I had to buy them because the kept them behind the counter. I paid about £1.29p each for Bangles – walk like an Egyptian and a novelty record by Spitting Image called Santa Claus is on the dole. At the time spitting image was very popular on the TV as it used to take the Mickey out of people in the public eye, and if like me you had nothing, it was a very good distraction from the reality of it all.
Because I didn’t have many records I used to listen to a lot of radio, mainly at night because that’s when all the best shows used to be on for some reason, I used to love listening to Tim Westwood on capital radio, now I know you’re thinking what? Yeah he did the capital rap show and it was amazing for somebody like me to have access to this music, you had people like leaders of the new school which had buster Rhymes in the group, Digital Underground which had Tupac as a member. The music really spoke to me as it was mainly about expressing yourself about any number of situations you might find yourself in.
I would tape these shows and listen to them over and over again, sometimes Westwood played a whole album from an American artist because you wasn’t able to get the albums over her in the uk, this was fantastic as it started to help me open up to different ideas and ways of doing things, another favorite was Lightning 90.8, where I could listen to reggae music from the likes of Super cat, who looking back sounds like Sean Paul does now.
I was taking all this music in like a sponge, soaking it up, learning the lyrics and singing and rapping them to myself over and over again, I used to look forward to being left alone by my mum so I could immerse myself in my music without being disturbed, it was heaven.

Soon after my mum met a man called Jim Downing in the pub called the Lord Lyndhurst which was just behind our house, my mum hadn’t been keen on men since her marriage with Chris, so I will be honest and say it was nice to see my mum happy with someone, he was like a giant to me, he worked on a building site and looked like he could lift up a house with one hand, he soon moved in and we were kind of like a normal family.
my mum stopped going out for days on end and just went for a drink with Jim in the pub behind our house so I knew where she was and I stared to feel settled again, Jim started to make the house nice buying a TV and video from rumbleows as well as a microwave that up to that point I had never seen before, they had to go in weekly and pay for it, bit by bit. Our house was nowhere up to the standard of Tammy’s house and between me and my cousins I did have the worst house, but I didn’t care.


On a Friday night Jim would get paid and I would get £5 pocket money, it was the first time I had been given pocket money and I started to feel grown up being given this money to spend on what I wanted, I remember buying razors to do my sideburns as I thought it was time to have my own razor, after I had my pocket money I would then go and stay with Jamie in Stockwell, my cousin Stephen in new cross or go My auntie Maureen’s in Lewisham.

out of my aunts Maureen was my favorite, she lived in a house in limes grove in Lewisham with her fella Danny O’Conner who is from Belfast so when he spoke you knew about it, he was very kind though and treated me like a son when I stayed over, Maureen was the person who convinced my mum to call me Danny as my mum was going to call me “Trent” what a name to inflict on a child, I don’t think I would of made it to 10 years old being called Trent, so for that alone I will always be in Maureen’s debt god rest her soul.

Weekends at Maureen’s would always involved a cooked breakfast which was always gratefully received by yours truly, I would have to do a couple of errands for her but I was always happy to oblige, Maureen and Danny had two Daughters Sally the oldest and Connie the youngest obviously and I would look after them changing nappies or whatever else needed doing if Maureen was busy again I was only too happy to help, I was even taken on holiday to broad stairs on the Kent coast to help with looking after the girls and as I saw it a treat for me. Again when I was working in Margate recently I went back to broad stairs and all the good memories with my auntie and her family came flooding back, and I decided there and then that if I ever retire I will move there because it really is a lovely place.

At this point in my life I was quite happy, there wasn’t anything wrong with the world, people still had arguments but everyone was alive and healthy so time seemed to pass quickly.

After leaving Bellenden primary school my mu had wanted me to go to London Nautical secondary school as her father had been in the royal navy and thought it would be a really good school for me, we went to the open day but I didn’t get in, so our second and last choice was Geoffrey Chaucer on new Kent road, I remember my mums shock when we saw hello in about 30 different languages, I just laughed I had grown up around all sorts of people and figured that there were good and bad people in all races, so live and let live.

I got into Geoffrey Chaucer and did make an effort to attend, as everyone was new and starting at the same time, so we were all in the same boat which was less stress to me for once, I remember getting a dinner ticket and being able to choose exactly what I wanted for dinner even burgers n chips if id wanted, and yes I did want.
I made friends quite easily at Chaucer and it was a relief to wear a uniform rather than my own clothes which were far from fashionable, but in the first year my mum bought me some Farah trousers and some black leather shoes with tassels, and yes I did look like a square, I mean who in 1987 wore Farah’s? But it didn’t matter I think I was the only one who noticed the little F tag on them.

It was around this time that my mum started being around this other guy called Leslie, I just remember thinking that’s a girl’s name, and a man can’t be called Leslie? He lived opposite my school in the flats and my mum was happy enough to be around him, he used to buy me things or give me money to “go and play” in other words DO ONE, I remember when he gave me some money to “find somewhere else to be” so I decided I would go to the coronet cinema in elephant and castle to watch the film of the year Goonies,
I remember getting there and the film wasn’t due to start for an hour or so, so I decided to go into the shop next door to buy a load of sweets to eat during the film, I properly looked like I was buying sweets for the whole family but I didn’t care as long as I was happy that’s all that mattered, that took all of about 5 minutes away from the hour I had to wait so I decided to pop into the kebab shop a couple doors along to play the gambling machine, I put my £2.30p in my other pocket for my cinema ticket and very quickly pumped my money into this machine which I had no hope of winning from because I didn’t actually know how to play it.

it wasn’t a fruit machine, u had to tap it so the light lands on some prize or another, so having lost what I put in I stood outside the cinema for the other 50 minutes until the doors opened, needless to say I was bored so I ate my sweets one by one and continued to wait patiently, well there wasn’t an impatient way of waiting as far as I can remember, finally the doors opened after what seemed like years, I should of brought my razor I could of had that shave, I was first in the line, One for Goonies I said, I searched for my £2.30 frantically but it suddenly dawned on me that I must of put it in that bloody machine in the kebab shop without realizing in a gambling frenzy, so all that wait for nothing and not even my bus fare home I had to walk back to Peckham without seeing Goonies on that occasion, I did however go the week after and stayed away from the kebab shop machine but the sweetie shop did get a repeat visit.

During this time I had become a very good thief, nicking from shops like Woolworths and WH Smiths, Woolworths was in Peckham high street so nice and local, I used to knock around with a girl called Eileen Conroy.

Both our mums had been in prison together and she lived one road away in holly grove which was on route to the high street, her house was enormous it had 3 floors and what seemed like 10 bedrooms a front and back garden, Eileen had an older brother Joe who everyone didn’t really like or trust, Anita who didn’t seem the full shilling, she was on one of those YTS programes in the late 80s which basically meant you had to live on about £12 a week, Gail who seemed pretty grounded and was quite pretty, she used to look after me sometimes with her mate Shelly who as kids we all fancied as she was about 4 years older than us, and then the was wee Paul as his mum called him the youngest, and Eileen was a year and a few days older than me.
she was the original tomboy and I loved hanging around with her, we used to decide to “have a party” which basically meant we would go and rob the shit out of Woolworths, I mean we would steal the banners, cakes, drinks and even toys, we didn’t pay for anything, we would set up our parties and for a time we were inseparable, I would often stay at my aunts houses but I knew Eileen was always there for me when I got back, our mums would joke that me and Eileen should marry when we get older and we even used to sleep in the same bed when I stayed over her house and we would promise each other that we will never turn out like our parents.

I had my second kiss with Eileen and we even had our first fumble together, but we both had our clothes on so it wasn’t anything sinister, just two kids who got along and pledged not to become alcoholics and be mean to our kids, Eileen has since come out and moved to Australia with her partner, and before you think I had some hand in her persuasion I shall protest my innocence to the bitter end.

Still on the subject of crime during my weekends hanging around with my cousins, me Stephen and a friend of ours called Simon decided to get a red bus rover which was the equivalent of a bus pass then and go out for the day, we got on a tube at new cross and got off at Whitechapel for some reason, Stephen said he needed to go to the toilet and went through some door in the station. Seconds later he came running out and instructed us to follow him back down to the tube.


Once on the train he showed us a package about the size of a rugby ball, he had stolen the days takings for one of the newspaper vendors, as the cash bags were wrapped in the big sheet of paper they use with that days news on it, we jumped on the train at the next stop and went about finding somewhere to divide up the spoils, we were used to nicking but having cash was unheard of.

We found a stair well in some flats and shared out the money, I cant remember why but Simon ended up making his was home from there, I think we were being horrible to him for no reason as well I imagine, so me and Stephen decided to go up west and continue with our day out, we arrived in Hamleys in regent street and went about taking what we wanted, we got some Duncan YO YOs and a computer game for Stephen, next stop carnaby street which was one of our favorite places to steel stuff as it was always busy with tourists, the best shop which had the things we wanted was Cascade, it had handcuffs and we were collecting different key rings, especially the ones with the condoms in that read “in case of emergency break glass” we found them hilarious.
Now considering we both had about £35 each which was a very lot of money at the time, Stephen decided to nick a pack of stink bombs that cost 99p, I was more than prepared to pay 99p as we were kind of rich, but knew if I bought mine then Stephen would have 99p more than me and I couldn’t have that, no way so I just stuck them in my pocket without a care in the world.

Just as we were about to leave the shop a woman grabbed us both by the arm and asked us to come to the managers office, now either we were the shops one millionth customers or we had been seen putting the stick bombs in our pockets, I had never been caught before so I wasn’t sure how to play it, my cousin Jamie got caught nicking a torch out of my Woolworths not long before that and been caught, they took him to the managers office and he cried, so they gave him the torch and sent him on his way, but I wasn’t the cute baby faced type, I was the hardened criminal who was going to front it, do my bird and all the crap I had heard that your supposed to do when you get caught and sent to jail.





We get taken to the managers office and the woman asks me where I’m from, so I tell her “Jamaica” then she asks my name so I tell sincerely “Bob Marley” I think of saying Mickey Mouse but that would be too predictable, as I stand there with my cocky doing the right thing attitude the woman picks up the phone dials the police and says she has caught two boys stealing ect, after she puts down the phone I do my very very best to throw insults at her calling her a “cunt” a “slag” and whatever nasty comments I can muster at my age, with astonishment the woman turns to me and says “you horrible little cunt, I didn’t actually call the police then But I will now” Shit!

What an idiot had I just played ball with her I would have walked out of there a free man with just a slap on the wrist?

We were taken to the police station and placed in separate cells where I could hear someone crying for there mum and I can tell you it wasn’t me, the police checked on me and noticed I had a pair of handcuffs hanging off my jeans, they kept asking if I wanted to be a policeman, big joke laugh at the kid with the handcuffs. when we had to empty our pockets the police were interested to know why we had so much money on us, being a very good liar on top of being Peckham’s number one junior tea leaf it came to me to say I had found a wallet on the 36 bus, even going to the trouble to describe the wallet, I thought it through we were not going to say our mums gave it to us in case the police ask them first, so my plan was fool proof, now only the thieving to try and wriggle out of now.


After about 5 hours my mum came to west end central police station to get us out, I knew to expect a whack round the head, not for stealing though, for getting caught!

When I got to see my mum she was quite calm and was trying to tell the police that she had given us the money, but pc plod wasn’t having any of it, properly due to my convincing story about the wallet on the bus, when my mum asked what was we being charged with the policeman stated that because we didn’t actually leave cascade with the stink bombs they were unable to charge us with stealing them, however and are you ready for this bit, the bit where Danny’s story gets him his just deserts?
Well the policemen as proud as punch declares that due to the fact we didn’t hand in the wallet we found on the 36 bus that didn’t even exist, we were going to be charged with Theft by finding, which translates to we didn’t hand it in so we stole it. Justice served.

During that period of hanging around with Simon who I would like to point out now is a very successful designer now, we went out one Christmas day when me and my mum were visiting Betty for Christmas day which we did occasionally for something to do, Christmas day was always boring no shops open and fuck all to do unless you had a big family to play monopoly with.

This Christmas Stephen said we should break into Millwall football ground and play football on the pitch, even though I was not big on football I wasn’t exactly busy, so I thought why not? Simons mum was drinking with our mums in the Spanish steps pub, so we headed over to cold blow lane which was 5 minutes away, we jumped the fence and made our way to the pitch, whilst walking around the ground Stephen noticed a metal fence that backed on the bar/players lounge area, so he jumped over and shouted for us to look, we climbed over and saw crates and crates of beer, none of us were particularly interested in drinking but when its free, you take what you can get.

After swigging a few mouthfuls of some rank beer we started shaking cans and opening them as if in celebration for the grand prix, we got covered from head to toe in the stuff, we decided, very stupidly I might add, to climb onto the roof of the terraces and throw cans onto the pitch, only god knows why but after a few minutes we heard a woman shouting at us so we got down jumped back over the fence and back through cold blow lane, just as we got about half way through a police van came racing through and stopped right in front of us, there wasn’t any point in running, we denied any knowledge of the kids they were looking for and put the fact we were dripping in alcohol down to the fact it was Christmas and our parents were having a party. But they weren’t having any of it and I imagine three kids soaked in beer might actually need to be taken away from parents that allow kids to have beer.

This time we were taken to Lady well police station which wasn’t local but apparently had some free cells, our mums were called for but couldn’t be found for some reason and considering none of our mums had cars and there were no busses Christmas day we were in for a long wait, in the meantime I was served Bernard Mathews turkey drummers and boiled potatoes for my Christmas dinner that day.



After six and a half hours Simons mum had come along with my mum to get us out of the police station, this time I could hear my mum shouting, drunk and threatening to hit me for making her walk from new cross to Catford on Christmas day, as soon as we were shown into the room where my mum was I ducked and avoided a whack, but Stephen managed to get one round the head, after being led outside my mum was busy trying to get me my whack but luckily the policeman who let us go followed us outside I threatened my mum that “if she so much as touches us he would nick her” I couldn’t help thinking how funny that would be at the time.

After my mum calmed down we walked over to my aunt Maureen’s which was close by and I was told I had to babysit as my punishment, and that was it now beating for me.


Whilst I was at Chaucer my aunt Tammy had met this nice guy called Tony, he seemed super rich and spoilt her rotten, even buying her a house in Carshalton surrey, the place was like a palace and because Jamie didn’t really know anyone round there I used to stay over quite a lot, we would get up early get the 157 bus to Morden tube station then get a tube into London to go to school, Jamie went to London Nautical which as you know was the school my mum wanted me at but because of some minimum year rule of releasing armed forces records.

What the meant in laymen’s terms is that anyone who had or has family that serve or served in the navy was given priority places at London nautical, but it was a year away from my granddads records being released, and Jamie wasn’t. I was offered a place in my second year at Chaucer but had far too many new starts in the past to uproot and start again.

Nothing too exciting happened in Carshalton, its was a pretty sleepy town but picturesque, I could see my aunt was getting bored housewife syndrome as Tony worked away sometimes, and she seemed to drink more when he was away, which meant the carpenters would come out and the sleepy neighborhood became filled with the sound of “rainy days and Mondays always get me down” but this time the stereo was a lot more expensive and a dam site louder.


On one of Tonys trips away Tammy invited Maureen her friend Dolly and my mum over for a drink which turned into the first time I every got drunk, I was in charge of being barman so I poured myself one to see what all the fuss was about, after all my family had spent most of their lives putting alcohol first, so it must be brilliant, this is going to be the making of me, I’m going to have my first grown up drink, I may be only 12 but I’m a quick starter. I didn’t like the first glass but no one said it was going to be easy, glass two goes down better and I don’t remember glass three and so on.

what I do remember is being carried upstairs by these women to the toilet where I was violently sick, then they carried me to Tammy’s bedroom, the bed was a king-size wooden bed with loads of pillows and silk sheets, I have no idea why I was put in that bed, but she must of regretted her decision soon after when I threw up all over it, I didn’t drink vodka after that until I was twenty one, and every time I even smelt a whiff of the stuff I was transported back to that toilet in Carshalton and the pain kept me away from it.

It was clear that my mum was seeing Leslie the man with a girl’s name, but she didn’t quite get round to telling Jim this little fact, she would be with him when I was about and then we would go home where Jim lived with us and play happy families, I didn’t see the point in this masquerade, Jim was solid and dependable but a right miserable bastard, he looked after us when we had nothing, I mean we still had nothing, but more than we would if he hadn’t been there. I never let on I liked him because he used to call me “precious” taking the piss because he thought my mum spoilt me, I think he thought I should be beaten at six am every morning and made to work on some imaginary farm before school, then home to do my chores. He even caught me wanking one day which was quite embarrassing for me.

Then you had Leslie, he was a lot older than my mum and I really didn’t see the attraction other than he had a bit of money now and then, and he treated my mum to a few nights out, with me in tow for a good cover story. He even used to give me a days work here and there taking plug sockets and light fittings out of buildings that were being either knocked down or done up, he would clean them up and sell them on second hand, he used to have all these annoying says like “think about it”, it doesn’t seem that annoying writing it but I think it might of been him that was annoying thinking about it, lol.

For my thirteenth birthday my mum managed to convince Leslie to pay for my first holiday aboard to sunny Spain, I even remember that the resort was called salou, my mum said I could bring my cousins Jamie and Stephen as long as their mums paid for there part of the trip, now a trip to Spain did sound exciting, but did I mention how we were getting there?

Well on the morning of the trip we all went to Victoria coach station, yes coach station. We met Leslie there and we sorted out the tickets and jumped on board all excited ready for our big adventure, I remember asking the woman who would have been a stewardess had we been on a plane like normal people, “excuse me how long does it take to get the Spain?”, well I really wished I hadn’t asked because the reply was “twenty six or seven hours, depending on traffic” I was dumbfounded, I was so glad I had my Walkman and rap albums, I must of listened to my Run DMC album over 15 times, I still know all the words to this day, I also remember seeing a brilliant film called The Jazz singer, if you haven’t seen it, you should get it out of blockbusters or Bobs in Peckham depending where you live, its basically about this Jewish guy whose dad is a rabbi and doesn’t approve of his sons choice of career, I wont spoil the ending but I know the whole coach cried at the end, it might have been due to the sandwiches and rolls being served by our fake air stewardess, who was caked in make up.

We finally arrived to our destination to a nice resort, but after the long journey Leslie was seriously getting on all our nerves, me Jamie and Stephen were non stop making fun of him and his cleaver wide boy ways, I really think he was trying to impress us with his knowledge of all things, but we just thought it was annoying. We were kids give us money and we are happy, that’s all it took, you didn’t need to pretend to be able to understand Spanish.

We all became friends with a German girl whilst we were there, and it sounds really silly now as we had only known her for about five days. No she didn’t die or break any bones, her holiday to sunny Spain was over and we had all become close friends, so we all broke down crying with the sound of Phil Collins number one single Groovy kind of love blasting out the local disco, we promised to write and stay in touch and all that other crap you say when you meat people abroad, it was a holiday romance with no kissing or funny business involved, and four people involved instead of two.

On the second to last night there was a completion in the hotel, now I’m not sure if we were staying in a particular part of Spain or this really is normal because the completion was for men to dress up as the most convincing woman, Jamie and Stephen jumped at the chance which seemed a bit worrying, but we was on holiday and were up for a laugh, mum said I should enter, but I was the oldest boy and everything about me said I don’t dress up as a woman for fun. But after a few vodkas and tonics my mum demanded that I get involved, so I begrudgingly and I do mean that, took a few things mum gave me and put them on.

We had to join up at reception and were all ushered into a back office by the hotel staff where there were a few grown men dressed up, taking it all a bit serious I might add. One guy even had a mustache and had a plastic half sort of mask covering it up, it wouldn’t have been so obvious but the mask was see through, we was offered a glass of wine to relax before having to walk out on stage, but I was 13 and any attempts for a grown man to give a child alcohol were seen as grooming in my suspicious mind, so we said nooo.


Once on stage all three of us dressed in my mums clothes and make up did the turns required to show off our feminine persona, but I knew I just looked like a fat kid dressed up in woman’s clothing, a site some people there thought may have been the start of some weird journey into being a transvestite, but I assure you I am as fucked up as the next person, dressing up is only for special occasions.

At the end of this very wrong act a pal that we had met on holiday won the completion, a few of the weirdo’s that had entered made some bitter comments about letting kids win and how unfair it was, well I say balls to them, they shouldn’t be dressing up like that with kids about, and for anyone thinking I am homophobic at this point doesn’t know me.

After being back for a while and not writing to the poor German girl we all cried over, I started going to Maureen’s a lot more, she used to treat me like a mum should treat there kids and I must say it was lovely, she would give me money to buy myself things like clothes, records and tapes.

On one occasion I bought a French connection jumper, it was the first bit of designer clobber I had owned, I only bought it because I really fancied the girl in the shop, she was a lot older than me and could of convinced me to buy it for her if she had tried, now my jumper was lush, it was bright red on the front with a massive white F and white on the back with a big C which unless you are a doughnut means FRENCH CONNECTION.

I had had this jumper a little while and always felt the bee’s knees when wearing it, then one day, just any ordinary day I was walking down the road as proud as punch when some guy called off a building site “what does the FC stand for?” and before I could proudly answer he him added “FAT CUNT” now I was thirteen, he must of been over twenty one so I didn’t want to risk getting a slap on top of insulting my only bit of decent clothing, so I just laughed and told him to politely “fuck off” I never wore that jumper ever again outside the house.





We needed some money so mum said we was going to Sainsbury’s in Sydenham to nick some smoked salmon to sell around the pubs, we had teamed up a few times to go shoplifting, and we did need the money to get shopping as well as money to buy a bus pass to get me to school, so I went. We got to Sydenham and my mum filled the bag with goods then passed the bag to me so I could walk out the shop with it, I did really care at the time, I was a good enough thief or so I though. I just got outside the shop when the security guard grabbed me and lead me back inside. I was taken to the manager’s office where I thought I had been caught on my own, a man came from downstairs and told the manager that the value of the goods came to £157.
I thought to myself that would of been my all time high score of goods in one steal until I heard my mum screaming, I looked at the glass door and could see two men dragging my mum somewhere, something came over me and I looked about for a weapon, on the floor I noticed a tool box opened, so I grabbed the first thing that came to hand which happened to be a chisel, I ran towards the manager and threatened to stab him if they didn’t let my mum go, I saw fear in his eyes but was willing to go through this ludicrous act to save my mum. The people handing my mum saw what had happened in the manager’s office and brought my mum to the door to show me she was ok, I calmed down and mum told me through the door that I should put it down and everything would be alright.