Read Online Billy Rags by Ted Lewis - Free Book Online Page A

swivelled on to me. They all stood there, slack- jawed, poised like wankers, clutching their provisions to their chests, ready for the all off. Still, I don’t suppose anybody fancied being last through that gate.
    About now Ray should have told us that Dave and the PO had gone through the gate and that the gate was open and that now was the time to go charging out of the TV room. But he didn’t. Instead Ray said: “They’ve gone through but he’s locked it. The bloody bastard’s locked it.” Ray turned round to face into the room. Nobody had moved. The poses were still struck as if nobody had grasped the significance of his words. Ray struck a pose himself, chest forward, arms supplicant, knees knocked, arse stuck out and said again in a kind of low shriek:
    â€œThe bastard’s locked it.”
    Everybody melted and a few characters sank down into chairs, trying not to look too relieved. Everybody was looking at everybody else.
    â€œWe can’t call it off now,” Terry said.
    Nobody replied. Walter began to pace up and down in the middle of the room.
    â€œCome on,” Walter said, “what are we fucking about for? This is no good. We’ve got to get into that office.”
    He was having a bout of resolution tremens. I’d seen this kind of thing before, back in the old days: red face, wild staring eyes, clutching fingers, the words coming out all wrong because his mouth was stiff with frustration. But again nobody said anything.
    â€œWe’llgetinthatoffice,” said Walter.
    He looked as if he was about to dash out and grapple the gate off its hinges.
    â€œLeave it out, Walter,” I said, “you’ll nouse it.” I appealed to Walter’s cousin. “Dennis, for fuck’s sake calm him down, will you?”
    Dennis took a grip of Walter and said:
    â€œWally. For fuck’s sake.”
    Walter carried on gurgling out words until I cut him short by saying:
    â€œLook. The gate’s locked. So somebody’s got to come out of George’s cell and claim the PO on the way back.”
    George’s cell was the one nearest the gate.
    â€œI mean,” I said, “Dave can’t do it, can he?”
    Dave was about eight stone nothing. Everybody knew that Dave couldn’t pull it. But nobody volunteered to take Dave’s place. Before the situation became too embarrassing Ray turned back to the door. Everybody focused on Ray’s back.
    â€œThey’re coming out,” Ray said. “He’s locked it.” I listened to the footstep sounds clanging across the landing. “The PO’s staying at the gate. I think Dave’s going to have a listen.”
    The footsteps got closer. Dave passed by the doorway on the other side of the landing.
    â€œI’m just going to test it, Ray,” Dave said.
    For form’s sake, Ray said: “Make sure you get it right, then. I’m sick and tired of you fucking that wireless up.”
    Dave went into his cell. Ray said: “The gate’s still unlocked. The PO’s standing by for Dave’s OK.”
    There was only a minute or so to decide what to do. Everybody could feel it slipping away from them. It was out of the question to try and rush the PO as he and Dave were going in or out: we were about fifteen yards from the gate and we would have to bundle across the catwalk to get at him. It was just no go: screws get very quick at sticking keys in locks. Basically it was all down to what I’d suggested earlier: one of us had to cop for the PO. Walter knew it, and he also knew who it had to be to do the copping.
    â€œBilly,” he said, “you do it, will you? You’ve got the sense. Someone else is bound to fuck it up.”
    I’d known it would be down to me all along but I let Walter think his appeal to my vanity had tipped the balance; the more Walter felt he had me, the better it would be for me later on when I screwed him.
    â€œAll