We met at John & Sheila's on a cold morning after being spoilt by recent warmer temperatures. Only nine of us to tell our stories after a good 20 minutes discussing the latest news. John started off and his story will be below. I followed my story of the Not to Worry about a small crack in the Comet window and the lack of lifeboats for the Titanic. Joan spoke about the reduction of letter writing in the modern world. Joan Read told us about the stress brought about by modern living. Sue a seaside holiday and a decrepit caravanette. Sheila said Not to worry for having such a short story. Rosemary about the cake stand that refused to go away. Ann some unlucky visit to the antipodes. Sally and the gentlemen who tied the shoe lace.
NOT TO WORRY
“This setback will not worry us” I said to my fellow conspirators. We had got this far and anysetbacks we encountered were nothing compared with events so far. Let me tell you how I came to this crazy, dangerous situation.
I admit that my life has been one of criminality, a life that resulted in me being incarceratedfor most of my life as a guest of her majesty, for what has been, in the main, a wasted life. I was intelligent enough, but was living in a shadowy world of crime all the time. I thought I could beat the system, and was always planning the one big heist that would give me the life of luxury, the fast women and all the good times that I craved. Yes, it seemed too be a fairly easy way to achieve all my aspirations.
On some of my hairbrained escapades, I actually got away with a fair amount, but there was always some grass willing to stitch me up, but NOT TO WORRY, I’ll get even with them in the end. I know who they are, and payback will be swift, and evil! I just need to concentrate on the next big job first.
The idea was forming in my mind to bust a huge consignment of bullion which a fellow con had told me about. I was very attracted to the possible fortune awaiting me, but realized that this was going to be a tough assignment. I needed to recruit a dozen tried and trusted mates, but in this game, who can you trust? We are all a greedy bunch of layabouts, noneof whom I could honestly say I really do trust, but there you go, I couldn’t do the job on my own.
We all met down at the local boozer, “The Boxers Ear”, run by an old ex-con friend of mine Reggie. Reggie could be relied upon to shut his eyes and ears to any goings on at his pub. I left the boys in no doubt that I, and one or two of my heavies, would come down like a ton of bricks, on anyone who grassed us up. I spoke at length about the need for secrecy, and of getting the right result. I told them that it would make us very rich. That made a few eyes light up. I said that we could net about 3 million from this one, so, once I had fenced the goods I figured that we would share out 2 million – and I intended to have a million of that for myself!
We had about 2 weeks to prepare for the arrival of the bullion at the warehouse, so I needed to get things organised and it all seemed to be going well. As the big bust approached I started to feel nervous, but I told myself that it was the same feeling every time I was going to do a job. How could anything go wrong?
Well, the day before the event Charlie, my driver went sick with appendicitis. What a blow! I had to bring in a guy who was recommended to me by Reggie at the pub, but who I didn’t know personally. Too bad, I thought , I could do no more than rely on Reggie to vouch for him. When I told my closest mate ‘Strangler’ he just said “Tough! We ‘ve got to run with him”.
The day of the job arrived and we got into the warehouse. The bullion was in a secure area, but I knew about this, so brought in ‘Banger’ Brown - the best in the business, and he had the doors blown open in next to no time, and so there it lay before us, a mass of gold bars. Yes, I had hit the big time. We started to load up, when, all of a sudden, we were surrounded by about 2 dozen cops. Some evil swine had stitched me up, and it soon became obvious who it was. My so-called friend Reggie at the ‘Boxers Ear’ I found out was grassing us to the cops keeping them informed about our plans all along, and providing the driver – a cop of course – an absolute gift to the law.
I’m writing this inside parkhurst whilst I do a long stretch for this job. I don’t think Reggie runs the pub any more and doubt that any of my fellow mates will find him in the area when we get out. He’s long gone from his old haunts I hear. NOT TO WORRY, I’m sat here planning my next big job and that it will make me the rich guy I deserve to be – I hope!
