Read Online The Guv'nor by Lenny McLean - Free Book Online Page B

said, all snooty, ‘I’ve marked your card, McLean. I know you’ve been in jail.’ Cheeky git. By Thursday I’d had enough, so when I saw this manager going to the bog, I crept up and tied the door handle to a pipe, so he couldn’t get out.
    He banged, he hollered and he swore, and I dared any of the others to let him out. After a bit, one of the office girls came down and undid the rope, and he came out like a greyhound from a trap. His face was bright red and he was sweating like a pig. ‘Right, who did it?’ he shouted. Nobody grassed me up, but eight pairs of eyes all swivelled in my direction. ‘Get your cards, McLean, and don’t expect any wages.’
    â€˜Stick ‘em up your arse,’ I shouted at him,‘and yer poxy two and a half quid.’ I felt like smacking him, but I wasn’t that daft. I was still on licence from approved school. Fuck his money, I was well covered. Three mornings running I’d passed what they call quires of paper over the wall to Tony, and he’d delivered it to a local fence by the name of Tommy. He’s dead now, poor old sod, so Old Bill can’t touch him.
    I’d got my eye on a nice load of lead as well. In those days, they printed books and all kinds using lead letters and numbers, then afterwards they scrapped them. This scrap was all piled in a lean-to near the fence, saying, ‘Lenny, take me home.’ I’d be back. I told Mum I’d been victimised because I’d been inside, and she swallowed it. Sorry I lied to you, Mum, but it saved a lot of aggravation at the time.
    She was going to send the suit back but I said I’d get some bits and pieces of work and stand the five bob a week myself. As itturned out, the lead we got a few weeks later easily covered the bill. How could anybody be expected to work all week for peanuts, when you could nick twenty times as much in a fraction of the time?
    Tony and me made ourselves busy; we were a good team, and getting a bit too big for creeping which was a pity because it was a good earner. Still, as usual, Tony came up with some good ideas for grafting a few quid. There was a little place down a back street off Commercial Road. Tony’s mate, who had a Saturday job with one of the big shops in the main road, said it was extra storage space for the shop and was stacked up with electrical goods. There wasn’t a bit of security. No lights, no alarms, nothing. We said, ‘Lovely, we’ll have some of that.’ This wasn’t a game we’d tried before, but if we could rob a few quid out of it, we were up for it.
    We arrived there at about nine at night. If you go too early there are mugs all over the streets. If it’s too late, Old Bill’s got their eyes peeled for anything that moves. So nine’s about right, and I’m dying to know why old clever bollocks Tony has brought a big tin of syrup and a lump of brown paper.
    So we were down the alley and over the wall. It was dark but not so dark that we can’t see what we’re doing. The back door was covered in sheet metal but the windows weren’t meshed up or nothing. Tony messed about with the paper, holding it up to one of the windows then tearing bits off.
    â€˜Get the lid off that tin,’ he said to me. So I whipped it open and passed it over.
    He poured the syrup over the paper then spread it out with a bit of old wood. Next minute, he stuck the whole lot on the glass, picked up a bit of metal and banged it straight in the middle of the window and the whole lot just dropped down in a sticky puddle. Never made a sound. Tony picked a few bit of glass out of the edge of the frame and we were in. Yeah, we had gloves on. Didn’t watch Z-Cars for nothing.
    It was like Aladdin’s cave inside; boxes everywhere, washing machines, TVs, even cookers. Every time I flicked my lighter I saw on another piece of expensive gear. The problem was, how were we going to shift