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  But, politics aside, we all break the law. Coppers break it, judges break it, businessmen break it, you break it, I break it. Just because I’m patriotic doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. How do I break it, I hear you ask? It’s wise not to know too much, my friend. That is to say, it’s wise to know as much as you can, but it’s wiser to keep everyone else in ignorance.

  The only thing I’ve got against squatting is that it’s legal. I mean, be fair, there ought to be a law against it. There’s a law against everything else. If you want to break the law, fair play. The very least you can expect is a fair chance of getting caught.

  It was a very nice terraced house just a couple of streets away at the Montpellier end of St. Paul’s. Nice big garden, whacking great big rooms. Bigger than my place it was. It’d been boarded up a while, you could see where the local kids had got in and smashed a few windows and stuff.

  Actually I felt quite like an old hand. They were sneaking about, peering over walls and setting lookouts up and down the road, while Richard tried to find a way in. I was sauntering around with my hands in my pockets. David made me laugh, trying to hide behind a dustbin. Talk about attracting attention! I mean, what would you think if you saw someone hiding behind a dustbin at nine o’clock at night? I stood next to him and I said, “What are you doing down there?” He must have felt a right berk.

  “I think you better keep your head down, Skolly,” hissed Richard.

  “If I can’t blag my way out of this, I’m better off dead,” I told him. He went down a bit in my estimation that night. It wasn’t professional. Now, whenever I did a job, the thing was to look like you were where you were supposed to be right up until the last minute. But of course, these anarchists were all dressed like mad squatters. I looked like a tobacconist and therefore stood a chance of getting away with it.

  I was nervous, mind. I hadn’t done anything like it for years. Christ knows what the missis would say if I got caught.

  Richard was taking so long to open the window that I went over to give him a hand, but he got a bit panicky.

  “You’re going to get us caught, Skolly,” he hissed irritably. “Keep your head down.”

  “I’ve only come to lend a few tips…” But he wasn’t having it. He called the girl, Vonny, to come and take care of me. She tried to make me squat down behind a hedge, but I wasn’t squatting for no one. It never occurred to any of them that I’d forced open more windows than the rest of them put together.

  Finally Richard got the window up. There was a bit of a panic as someone came down the road. Even I had to hide behind a telephone box just up the street. Whoever it was trotted past and never saw the open window with the boards off, or they didn’t care. Then we all climbed in one after the other. I was severely out of breath and almost flattened Richard as he pulled me up over the windowsill. Then he fixed the boards so it looked like they were still attached, and we were in.

  Inside it was pitch black. They were all talking in whispers. Richard started handing out torches.

  “Don’t let anyone see any light from the street,” he hissed. He began allocating jobs—helping with the electric, making sure the windows were sealed, checking the gas, seeing if they could get the back door opened. I lit a fag and peered out from behind the boarding on to the street.

  “Would you mind not smoking in front of the windows?” asked Richard severely.

  “What’s up, we’re in, aren’t we?”

  “It’s best to lie low for a couple of days until we’re established,” he told me. “The longer we’re here before they find out, the better the chances of staying.”

  He went off to get the lekky on. I went upstairs to finish my fag on the landing.

  Who’d have thought it, me breaking and entering a house with nothing in it to nick? I wandered around a bit but there really was nothing there. It just goes to show the changing face of crime. No one ever used to think of stealing whole houses…and without even having to move them, either.

  Jerry was running about sticking bottles with candles in them on the stairs and in all the rooms. Richard soon got the lekky on but we weren’t allowed to put the lights on in case someone saw us. He and Jerry started running in and out of the back door filling the place up with boxes and suitcases and bags. The idea was to get established as quickly as possible. It was a lot more difficult to eject them if they had a houseful of stuff in there with them.

  I thought, time to clear off.

  I went to see how David was getting on and to say goodbye. He was down in the basement kitchen with Vonny. Someone had brought in a cardboard box full of cooking things—pans, plates, cutlery, a bit of flour and a bit of cooking oil, that sort of thing. They’d got the gas cooker going and he was making a cup of tea.

  The whole place looked very nice by candlelight. I thought, They’ve only been in here half an hour and it’s half a home already.

  There was an old chair by the work surface. I sat down.

  “Well, David.”

  “This is fantastic, Mr. Skolly.”

  “Skolly.”

  “I’d never have found anywhere like this on my own. And the people are…”

  I think he blushed a bit.

  “They’re not people, they’re anarchists,” I corrected him.

  “They’re all really interesting.”

  “Would you like a cup of tea, Skolly?” the girl wanted to know. She was a right sight. Shaven head, scrawny neck like a plucked goose. You couldn’t see what shape she was under the…I dunno…sacks or something, she was wearing. But I’m willing to believe it was all very nice under there. I should be so lucky.

  “No thanks, I’ve got to be off.”

  “How about some of this, then?” It was Richard. He was offering me a joint. I looked at it out of the corner of my eye.

  I was tempted.

  “I haven’t done that for twenty years,” I said.

  “Bring back your lost youth,” urged Richard.

  I accepted the joint and took a drag. It felt nice. “Used to smoke masses of this stuff in the Navy,” I told him. I was in the Merchant for five years when I was a lad.

  Richard beamed. “Part of our great British tradition of drug taking,” he said.

  I took a few lungfuls before passing it on.

  I have rarely regretted anything so much in my life. I used to quite like it when I was a lad. I don’t know whether this was stronger or I was weaker. I broke out in a cold sweat. I started hearing things…people coming down the stairs. I got this really strange impression that my missis was going to come in and catch me sitting in this smoky den with these kids. She’d go mad if she knew. Even though I knew she was miles away visiting Doreen…

  I wondered what was going on for a second, before I realised it was that joint. Just my luck, I thought. My heart was going like ten tons of coal falling off the back of a lorry. I just closed my eyes. I heard Richard asking me if I was okay, but I pretended to be asleep. I don’t know what he must have thought. I felt like a right prat.

  By the time I felt fit to open my eyes and have a look around, Jerry, Vonny and David were all sitting on the floor smoking more of the obnoxious things. Richard had disappeared. It felt like the whole room was crawling with little worms. Horrible. They all had cups of tea. So did I, it was by my chair, half cold.

  I saw the girl nudging Jerry to look at me and they all laughed.

  “Ha-bloody-ha,” I said. I was somewhat annoyed. I didn’t come there to be laughed at by a bunch of paper anarchists. It doesn’t mean anything to call them anarchists, anyway. You might as well call my wallpaper the Politburo.

  I waited a bit, watching them. They were all right, I guess…better than the lot in George Dole’s shop. From the way Richard was with these two I figured they were more like his friends. They were treating David very nicely, listening when he had something to say, talking seriously to him. They must have been eighteen and nineteen, and he couldn’t have been more than…I dunno, fourteen, fifteen.
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br />   I got up and brushed my trousers down.

  “Well, David, what do you think of the place then? Des. res. or what?”

  “Oh…” David jumped up like I was the Queen Mum. “Thanks, Skolly, it’s really great…” He gestured to the yoofs on the floor and smiled shyly.

  “Here.” I tossed him a packet of fags. “You can use them for joints with your new mates.” I’d noticed he was smoking one himself. He seemed to be enjoying it.

  He took the fags and looked at them doubtfully. He was still wondering what to do when Richard appeared.

  “Just booking another customer,” I told Richard, who duly laughed, but he didn’t look too happy. He doesn’t mind them rotting their brains with pot but he disapproved of smoking well enough.

  I made another attempt to leave. Richard led me up the stairs. “You can be the first man out the new front door,” he said. He opened the door. I was still crawling with that pot. The fresh air smelt so good, I almost skipped out of the house. As I stood on the path a woman I knew, Mary Dollery, was walking past. I smiled at her.

  “Good evening, Mary.” You could see her looking at me and then at Richard. Then she scuttled off down the road like a crab on two legs.

  “If you see any more likely candidates, do let me know.” Richard beamed.

  “I don’t see many deserving cases,” I told him.

  “Oh, the streets are full of them,” said Richard sadly. As far as he’s concerned, if you ain’t got it, you deserve it, and if you have got it, you’ve ripped someone off.

  “That bloody joint nearly killed me,” I told him severely.

  “Oh!” He was distressed. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “I thought my missis was coming out of the floor at me. It was a nightmare.”

  Richard laughed. “It was rather strong. I only got it this evening.” He beamed at the house opposite and then frowned as he remembered I’d had a bad time. “Sorry about that.”

  “That’s all right. I’ve learned my lesson.” I said that so he knew he’d blown my becoming an anarchist. He looked miserable. Another step back from the New World Order.

  I gave him a Twix bar and said goodbye.

  “Oh, no, I can’t…there’s animal fats in these,” he said.

  “Try smoking it,” I told him. “It gets you off.”

  He was killing himself laughing.

  I didn’t see much of David after that, not for ages. He disappeared off the street, so I suppose they were taking care of him. He was a capable sort of bloke, I reckon, despite appearances. You felt he’d always find someone who had time for him.

  I might have gone round and had a look once or twice, but I fell out with Richard shortly after that. Some acquaintances of mine to whom I owed a favour got to hear about all that electrical stuff in George Dole’s old place. There was some good stuff—hifis, tellies, videos—quite a few quid’s worth. Actually I mentioned it to them. I’m sure Richard had done his best to convince those horrible kids not to touch it, but let’s face it, you’d have to be a Richard to leave that lot alone.

  Anyway, these friends of mine decided to do a bit of liberating themselves. One of those kids came down and found them in the middle of it and got himself knocked around a bit. Nothing too serious, but he lost a couple of teeth. Richard was extremely upset. He met me on the street and told me what had happened. He was nearly in tears. I perhaps foolishly indicated that I knew something about it.

  Well, it wasn’t like it was an old lady. The kid was on someone else’s property. What’s the point in getting sanctimonious about someone else doing a bit? I can’t stand that sort of hypocrisy. You get it on both sides, mind—I know plenty of villains who’ll sit around and moan about squatters all night. As far as I was concerned that kid got taught a useful lesson. They live in Never-never land, half of them. Bit of contact with the real world, do him a power of good.

  But as I say, Richard was extremely upset. I don’t know what he thought I ought to have done. Tell the police? Give him notice what night the lads were going round? The stuff would have walked, don’t tell me. Give my mates up for swatting a brat? Nah. But he went right off me after that. The prejudice wasn’t on my side. Being a friend isn’t enough for people like that, see. You have to be on the right side…

  I got a decent new video out of that job.

  Tar

  It was the best luck I ever had in my life.

  It wasn’t just the house, it was the people. They were just so amazing. Right from the start. Especially Richard. Right early on, when they asked me how old I was, I just said, “Sixteen,” without thinking about it. They were all sitting round drinking beer and smoking. After I’d said it I got all bothered because they were all so straight with each other…and here I was telling stupid lies! So I plucked up my courage and blurted out, “I’m not sixteen really. I’m only fourteen.”

  “Oh, dear,” Richard said. He looked quite appalled. I was certain he was going to tell me I had to leave. But it turned out he was just shocked that my dad had been hitting me when I was just fourteen.

  “That means he can’t sign on,” pointed out Jerry.

  “I’ve been begging. I want to find a job…” I began.

  But Richard—you’ll never guess what he said.

  “You’ll just have to be a parasite off us for a couple of years.”

  Actually I don’t think Jerry liked it, but Vonny said quickly, “One more won’t make any difference.”

  Could you believe that? Talk about landing on your feet! They really liked me, they wanted to take me on and it wasn’t as though they were rich or anything; they were all signing on except Richard. He even offered to bring home bits of work from the bicycle shop.

  I was so pleased. I mean…they didn’t even know me. I could have been in Bristol a hundred years and not found people like them.

  Even Jerry came round. He was a bit different from the other two. But then he smiled and he said, “Perhaps I can teach Tar some shoplifting techniques.” And he gave me a wink.

  “Oh, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” said Richard. “If he gets caught he’ll either get sent home or put into care, and we don’t want that, do we?” he added beaming at the fridge.

  They started talking about how I could earn some money but I was suddenly thinking about Gemma. I just realised…I’d found us a place to live! She could come to stay after all. And they’d help her like they were helping me and we’d have this amazing set of friends, more like a family, really, all here waiting for her.

  Straight away I told them about her and…well, it was a bit disappointing, because they weren’t so keen.

  It was partly my fault, because I wasn’t sure whether she was coming for a visit or for good, but I was hoping she’d come for good and I wanted them to help me convince her. I told them about the problems she’d been having at home but…

  “The point is, Tar, you’re asking a lot of her, aren’t you?” said Jerry. “She’s got to give up her education, her parents, everything for you.”

  “It’s not like that,” I said. But was it? I started to talk about her parents again, but Vonny said,

  “I had arguments with my parents, too, but I didn’t have to leave home.”

  I felt incredibly glum. I so much wanted her to come with me but I hadn’t looked at it like that before. I guess I’d been pretty selfish.

  “Do you want her to come very much?” asked Vonny.

  I felt like crying. I love her,” I said.

  I heard Jerry snort with laughter. I don’t know why he shouldn’t believe me. Vonny looked a bit doubtful, too. But I think Richard believed me.

  “We’ll have a look at her,” he promised again. “You’re one of us now,” he told me, and he grinned over my head.

  “He’s only fourteen, Richard,” said Vonny, a bit crossly.

  “You can fall in love at any time,” said Richard. “I was always falling in love at fourteen.” And they all laughed.

  Later on I
told them I wanted to ring up my mum, and you know what? They all chipped in a quid each so I could have a good long chat with her.

  I know what you’re thinking about me and my mum. Apron strings. But it wasn’t like that. I think it wasn’t like that.

  People think my dad is worse because he beats me up, but Mum’s worse really. He’s easy; I just hate him. I hate him because he lets things get into a mess and blames everyone and won’t do a thing to stop it, and because he treats me and Mum like dirt. I guess I hate Mum too. The trouble with her is, I love her as well.

  Dad used to go to the pub and then drink all evening. He was just a pisshead, though. Mum was at it all day. No one knew—even Dad didn’t know for ages. She just drank enough to keep herself topped up. It was only when it got worse and she was drunk when he came home that he started to cotton on.

  It used to be all right. I mean, it was awful but it wasn’t horrible. She was quite attractive when she was a bit tiddly—sort of feathery and giggly. But later on it got worse and she got ugly with it, falling over and weeping and moaning and being sick.

  Dad should have seen that she was ill, that she couldn’t cope, but he just got angry. He’d come back and the whole house would be a tip and Mum would be lolling about cursing and swearing, or passed out on the floor. They had these terrible rows. Really terrible, black rows, screaming and threatening to kill one another and smashing things—really violent. Only at first they never touched one another, except by accident.

  So I started helping out. I’d come back from school and do the shopping and cook tea, or I’d tidy the place a bit, just so it looked as though she’d done something, instead of lying in bed all morning and getting drunk in the afternoon, which is what really happened.