The Read’s house was down near the river and by the time I got to it, it was nearer twelve than eleven. The front door was flush to the main wall. This meant no shadow to work in. If someone walked along the street, I would stick out like a sore thumb. I needed to work quickly and I needed to be lucky.
I remember standing at the corner of the street looking at the front door wondering what lay behind it. All weekend we had lifted cheap jewellery and cash. The jewellery would be fenced by one of Martin’s friends for a fraction of its worth and for three nights’ work the amount of cash would seem poor.
I knew that, had I given the Read’s address to Martin it would have been first and if the pickings had been rich there would have been no need to scrape away the hard earned belongings of the Gorbals poor further down the list.
I had to hope that there was a jackpot behind the door. Not least because I knew my deception would be discovered — Rachel wouldn’t forget to ask Martin how he had fared with a house like the Reads. All I could hope for was a score big enough to free me of Martin and set me up on my own.
That was, is, and always will be my problem. Nothing was ever enough. I always wanted more and I always wanted more far quicker than made sense.
In my life I wanted round the corner before I had reached the end of the street. I wanted over the next hill before I’d climbed the one in front of me. Tomorrow was too late, today was a touch tardy and yesterday meant I already had it and didn’t want it anymore.
To add to my drive I felt the world owed me something for taking my mum and dad away. Some big fucking favour that I was entitled to call in whenever I needed it. There had to be an upside to losing your parents, even if one of them had pissed your life away at the feet of horses that were never quick enough.
As I waited in the still of that night I thought this is my time. A time for change. Come morning, I’ll be a new person. Fresh out of the wrapper. The past buried in the dustbin with my last packet of Golden Wonder.
I remember the wind on my face as if it was carrying a new soul for me to try on. Wrapping me in a warm blanket of optimism.
I was so right and I was so wrong — a two-edged simultaneous equation.