The Guv'nor Read Online Free PDF Page A

‘Been fighting again, McLean?’ Yeah, I had; bit one-sided, though.
    If he was at home, we’d be in bed by half-past five. Imagine, we’re all laying in bed, the sun’s still shining outside, and we couldn’t talk. We had to lie there listening to the distant voices of happy kids playing football or riding their bikes up and down. We’d be hungry as well. He might have been the breadwinner, but it was mostly for his own greedy self. No wonder he was a big fat bastard. He called it ‘his food’.
    I remember one night we’d been sent to bed with no tea. We heard him go out, then about ten minutes later Mum came in with a plate of bread and jam. ‘Ooh, thanks, Mum, smashing.’ Then we’re just going to tuck in when the door burst open. He’s come back, hasn’t he? He went crazy, punching our mum on to the bed, grabbing the plate and flinging it straight through the window. There was glass everywhere.
    We all yelled with fright and he shouted, ‘I don’t work my bollocks off for you lot to thieve my grub.’ Then he made a dive for us. Mum threw herself right across all of us and took every punch he threw in the back. Lying underneath her we could feel every blow. He was like a wild man – face red, spit dribbling down his chin. Then he was gone, leaving us all screaming and crying.
    Mrs Hayes from upstairs came down, she’d heard the set-to and she wanted to call the law, but Mum wouldn’t have it. She just slumped in the chair coughing. Every now and then, she’d wipe blood away from her mouth. It turned out that bastard – and I want to kill him stone dead right now just thinking about it – that beast had broken five of her ribs.
    That night we all slept upstairs with the Hayes, and I remember one of their boys, my mate Alfie, saying, ‘Why don’t you kill him, Lenny?’ That must have planted a seed in my nut because from then on I used to plan how I’d do it. I think my favourite was to stab himwith a knife when he was asleep. It never happened, but the thought gave me strength.
    There was a time, though, when he came very close to getting it, and it wasn’t from a little kid either. I came home from school one day. It must have been winter because it was dark and freezing cold. As I came up the last flight of stairs my little brother Kruger was huddled on the floor by the door. This was Raymond, but we all called him Kruger because when he was a baby he looked just like an old German man who lived downstairs. Anyway, he’s crying, his nose is running, and he’s wet himself. I put my arm round him and I asked, ‘What’s up, mate, did you think we’d all left you?’ He sort of nodded and said, ‘There’s no one in.’ I knew that or he wouldn’t have been sitting there. Then we both jumped as the lift door opened right beside us and there was Jim Irwin, appearing like a fucking genie from a lamp.
    â€˜What’s up with you, cry-baby?’ he said to Kruger.
    â€˜I think I’ve wet meself,’ he said and I felt my stomach turn over. That was definitely the wrong thing to say.
    Irwin flung the door open, grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him inside the flat. He stripped him naked and started slapping his bare backside with his open hand. That wasn’t enough, so he took his belt off and used that. I could see the buckle cutting into Kruger’s skinny little body so I tried to grab the belt. It earned me such a punch in the head I went cross-eyed for a minute. But I had another go and Jim kicked me twice without releasing his hold on my brother. I wasn’t counting but he must have hit him about 30 times, and then he threw him on to the bed.
    While he was being beaten Kruger was screaming, but now he was all scrunched up on the bed, lying so quiet I thought he must be dead. When Mum came in, Irwin told her not to go near him. ‘Rose, luv,