LITMIR.BIZ

      Contents

       Title Page

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Also available in the CONFESSIONS series

       About the Author

       Also by Timothy Lea & Rosie Dixon

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

       CHAPTER ONE

      Twelve months in the nick! I could hardly believe my jug handles when the beak passed sentence. It looked as if it was all he could pass, too. I have never seen a more tight-lipped, prune-featured old git. And all for having a few magic moments of hampton parking immortalised on celluloid. Talk about diabolical! I have never known such a travesty of British justice since they put me away for nicking lead – at the time I thought I was taking part in a slum clearance scheme. It is not as if I wanted to flash my nasty at the great British public either. A few innocent recreational moments with a bevy of fun-loving Cypriot ladies were not meant to be shown as family entertainment. How I came to be blamed because some berk cuts them into the final version of ‘Revenge of the Creature from the O.K. Corral’ is beyond me. Likewise, how I became responsible for the whole film. I thought it was a Trion Production promoted by Justin Tymeley and my brother-in-law, Sidney, but it just goes to show how wrong you can be.

      ‘Terribly unlucky, Timmy boy,’ says Sid when he comes to visit me in my cell. ‘I feel very guilty about this. I wanted to give you a fair crack of the whip, that’s all.’

      ‘So did that old bleeder on the bench,’ I yelp. ‘He said he was sorry he couldn’t give me the cat.’

      ‘I know,’ says Sidney, shaking his head. ‘They shouldn’t allow them to say things like that. He’s past it, that bloke.’

      ‘He’s passed it alright. Twelve bleeding months. Do you think I should appeal?’

      Sid shakes his head again. ‘I’ve spoken to Mr. Rampersand and he’s definitely against it. He said they’re very hot on pornography at the moment and you might get another six months.’

      ‘Gordon Bennett! I’m innocent. How come you and Justin weren’t up there with me? That’s what I can’t understand.’

      Sidney extends his arms despairingly. ‘Like I said, Timmo. I was just trying to put a bit of moola your way. You’ve always said to me that you never had a real stake in any of our ventures so I thought I’d remedy that this time.’

      ‘Very considerate, Sidney.’

      ‘I’m glad you see it that way.’

      ‘So that piece of paper I signed made me responsible for all the company’s liabilities?’

      ‘That kind of thing, Timmy. I don’t want to confuse you with a lot of technical details at a moment like this.’

      ‘Don’t worry about that, Sidney. It will give me something to think about in the next twelve months. I suppose my responsibilities don’t extend to control of the profits?’

      ‘No, Timmo. You see, it wouldn’t be practical with you in the chokey, would it? Don’t worry. There’s a good reason for doing things the way we are.’

      ‘Yes, Sid. I think I know what it is: sheer, naked greed. You’ve made me the fall guy so that you and Justin can grab all the loot.’

      ‘Timmo!’ If you didn’t know Sidney, you would think he was really hurt. ‘That’s a terrible thing to say.’

      ‘It’s bleeding true, though. Even with my bit cut out, that film is going to make a million. The publicity has been fantastic.’

      ‘Don’t worry, Timmo. We’ll see you all right. Justin has got a lot of influence in the prison world.’

      ‘That doesn’t surprise me.’

      ‘No bitterness, Timmo. It’s unworthy of you. What I was saying is that Justin is trying to pull a few strings to make sure you get sent to a nice nick. Once they’ve made an example of you, they don’t want to lay it on too thick.’

      ‘Very kind of them.’

      ‘Penhurst. Have you heard of it?’

      ‘Not unless it’s in the Good Food Guide.’

      ‘It’s a very enlightened place. You get a nice class of person there.’

      ‘That’s always important, isn’t it? I don’t want to mix with a lot of rubbish.’

      Sidney shakes his head. ‘You’re very difficult to help, sometimes, Timmo. Justin has gone to a lot of trouble on your behalf.’

      It is at this point that I begin to see more red than if I had my mug pressed against a baboon’s bum. ‘Justin has gone to a lot of trouble!’ I yelp. ‘What about me?! Twelve months in the chokey. What’s going to happen to my sex life?’

      ‘Well, you’ll have to cut down a bit.’

      ‘ “A bit”! You must be joking.’

      ‘I expect you’ll get some remission.’

      ‘Quite a few of them, I should reckon. I can see my wrists in plaster by the time I get out.’

      ‘I meant that they’ll probably lop a bit off your sentence for good behaviour,’ says Sid huffily. ‘There’s no need to be coarse.’

      ‘They might as well lop a bit off my old man. I’m never going to last for twelve months without crumpet.’

      ‘We’ll send you food parcels.’

      ‘Food parcels? You’d be better off sending me a vat of bromide.’

      I mean, it is disturbing, isn’t it? It can’t be good for my action man kit to be put in cold storage for a year. I am one of those blokes who needs it fairly regularly to keep in trim. You can’t deny a great artist the use of his paint brush for twelve months and then expect him to bash out the Mona Lisa, can you? ‘What about Mum and Dad?’ I say, deciding that I do not want to think about my fast fading sex life any longer.

      ‘She’s loyal, your mum,’ says Sid. ‘A diabolical cook, but loyal. She reckoned it was because you had that coloured fellow that you got put away.’

      ‘You mean my solicitor, Rampersand?’

      ‘That’s him. Mum said she could see that the judge was going to have no truck with him. I think she might have a point there. The miserable basket started looking old-fashioned the minute Rumpleknickers made you take the oath on those crossed chicken bones.’

      ‘Well, it was his first case in an English court, wasn’t it?’

      ‘I know, but you’d think he would check up, wouldn’t you? I mean, when he started throwing that white powder about and flapping his fly whisk, I could see the

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