I fought the law.
Oscar Wilde said that every sinner has a future and every saint a past. Here is the story of this saint’s past.
A troubled childhood was climaxed by being expelled for stealing from the City of London School aged eleven. This led to the state paying for my boarding school fees. I went quiet until 1966.
My sister Barbara was getting married I hadn’t bought a present. I looked around my student flat and found a canteen of unused cutlery. Perfect.
After the wedding, the police came round and I went down to the Wandsworth nick “to answer a few questions”. I told Barbara, we spent an hour rubbing off finger prints , I took a train to Birmingham(to confuse) and I sent the canteen back. I was charged. I confessed to taking but “to look after them because I thought they might be stolen”. Ha! I was acquitted!
But from now on I was a marked man. The late 60s saw me as a street fighting man and demos were my thing. 1969 I was arrested outside the LSE. This time four hours in the Bow Street police cells. If you cant do the time, don’t do crime. £100 fine, paid by my mother a life time socialist.
Around 1970 I picked up a caution for after hours drinking in Devon. 1985 after an afternoon of boozing and joint smoking saw me done for drinking and driving. The other car was a write off. Yes officer I may have had a glass at lunch. Banned for a year and £200 fine. A choice had to be made, A year ago I gave up driving.
When Leo was a lad I would take him to Fulham games. Nowhere safer. A dull evening game, Leo and his nine year old mates went up one end. Me the other. A couple a cans to dull the pain. Mistake. Drinking had been banned. A few questions in the police room and then a real achievement, ejected from Fulham! I saw that the door was open and went back in. They needed the crowd.
The crime wave continued. 1990 cycling through Leader Gardens. £50 fine, £50 costs. No doubt, they are after me. Thankfully the Park Police have been disbanded from their useful work.
2000 and I was taking photos for an insurance mag I edited. The story- playground claims. I took pictures in the local primary school playground where my children went. Two hours later a knock on the door. Could we have a quiet word, sir. My neighbours loved it.
Of course this is a genetic thing. When in 1999 I had to sign son Leo out of the Fulham police cells, the sarge gave me a wink, chip off the old block, eh,sir. How we laughed, its the way you tell them.