Читать книгу Lost Voices of the Edwardians: 1901–1910 in Their Own Words - Max Arthur, Max Arthur - Страница 112

I had a special pal called Peaky. His people were on the respectable side. The father was a collar-and-tie man working for the Port of London Authority. We were always together and always playing truant from school. Peaky couldn't read or write – he couldn't even sign his name. I did try once or twice to take him home and teach him the alphabet but it was hopeless. He didn't have any ambitions to be a scholar. So one day, we were in Brick Lane and they were playing a gambling game in the street. One boy there had a metal watch and chain on. So I said to Peaky, ‘Let's have his watch.’ I took it out of his pocket, it was quite simple. I put my hand up and swivelled it off. Just as I handed it to Peaky, the boy tumbled me. ‘Give me my watch back!’ he said. I laughed and Peaky walked away with it.

Well, the boy knew us, knew our names, and he did a thing I never thought he'd do. He went to the police. To cut a long story short, I got twenty months and Peaky got nine months. We became the first boys ever to be sent to Borstal. It was called Borstal because it was in the village of Borstal, near Chatham in Kent. We were the first guinea pigs in 1903. When we got there, they made two cells into one for us. There was a bit of a school there, where they had proper teachers. The governor, Mr Weston, wanted to make the new system a success. We were given library books and I read Oliver Twist – that was the first time I found out about Dickens. You weren't kept in a cell all the time and there was plenty of physical exercise outside. I also learnt a lot of woodwork in the carpenter's shop. Even though the more backward lads were taught to read and write, they couldn't teach Peaky nothing there. He did his nine months and when he came out, his parents had moved out of the East End to give him a fresh start. Not long after, he got a splinter in his hand and he died from blood poisoning.