Stuart: A Life Backwards Page #3

But, I mean, robbing an empty post office is

Burgle.

Rob people, burgle post offices.

Yeah, but what I mean is it's hardly

a Schedule 1 offence, is it?

Of course not.

Well, that's serious, isn't it?

It wasn't kiddie fiddling.

I didn't say that it was.

It wasn't.

We'll talk about it Thursday, yeah?

Thursday afternoon.

Another time, right?

Then you mop with the bread.

Mop up your juices.

So, smash the window, break

the steering wheel lock

by turning the wheel in opposing directions.

Yeah. And if the street is too

public to use a brick...

Slide stick. Remove the metal band from a

pallet of bricks, reduce to eighteen inches,

remove a notch from one side,

insert into door panel.

Ba-kow! I'm in the post office!

Boot in the rubble!

No, there's no point in ram-raiding a post office.

- Why not?

- Can't you not pay attention?

There's no point in ram-raiding a f***ing post office.

There's never no money in the till, is there?

Gone are them days.

I forgot money.

Here.

No, no, no, no. I'll get a taxi,

I'll stop at a bank on the way.

No, honestly, take it.

It's me beer money.

You'll be doing me a favour.

You'll be doing society a favour.

And buy a f***ing car.

Get yourself a f***ing license.

Oh, I almost forgot.

Here. Bought you this.

Your black mists.

Thought you could talk into it

next time you're in one.

You'll be okay?

Call if you need any help.

2am, 4am, anytime.

Yeah, so you can bring a f***ing camera?

Oi!

You're alright, Alexander.

Often used to say to Stuart, "I wish

I could just pick you up sometimes,

turn you upside down and shake all

the bad things out of your head,

then put you back up the right way again."

The change in him.

We just couldn't understand it.

And of course I would like to thank

you all for coming here today

to hear me talk about the campaign

and the petition.

Stuart and I gave nine or ten talks together

about the campaign that spring

in Burmingham, London, Oxford, and

of course villages around Cambridge.

Mr Stuart Clive Shorter.

I'd speak first, and then Stuart would

get up and knock the audience off its

seats with the story of his life.

A typical suicide attempt, just an

unbearable sense of hatred, waste

"I am the nightmare you frighten your

children with", he said.

"The sort of person these two charity workers

were trying to help to get off your streets."

"We should have awarded Ruth and John

medals instead of sending them to prison."

so I just twisted around and I emptied

everything that remained into my right buttock.

Stuart did two things

for the campaign, really.

He folded letters

and he exposed his soul.

That alright?

- Exactly. So, if we write

- Oh, this is your name.

If we solve the puzzle, do we solve you?

He's just...

He's just very, very interesting, you know?

He tells me about a world I knew nothing about

and... I... I just like him.

It's absolutely extraordinary. He knows the

exact day that he changed into a sociopath.

Between 4pm and 5pm. The exact day!

It's like knowing what was in Dr Jekyll's

potion that turned him into Mr Hyde.

This thing, Stuart's black mist,

came that night.

Apparently it started by a knife fight.

The first I heard about it was a

call a day later from his mother.

At least there's no blood.

Usually there is blood.

Perhaps the cleaners have been 'round.

Just for the blood.

Campaign's helped him a lot, you know.

Kept him straight.

Ain't been this happy since

he was a little boy.

"Alexander only."

Hello, Alexander. It's Stuart. You know, admitting

I've had lots to drink and that, but

I can't help reflect about

Stuart had been bailed to appear

at Cambridge Magistrate's Court.

I went with him for moral support.

They don't look too upset to be here.

Well, wait till they get to Crown Court,

that's when it gets serious.

Godspeed the day.

Excuse me, you're about to fall off

F*** off.

Good lad, just say that to the

nasty man with the wig and

everything will be fine.

Sometimes it takes so long you forget

what your f***ing crime was.

Here, listen to this. It's the little 'un.

If I don't know you, f*** off!

I'm not in and I don't wanna talk to you!

I didn't think it was like that.

I was thinking maybe he should go

to business school.

But now I don't know.

He ain't right.

I've had to have words with him about

the importance of politeness.

He's fourteen.

It really shocked me, to be honest.

Mr Shorter?

According to police statements they could smell

smoking oil when they arrived on the scene.

Chip fat.

It was the anniversary of my brother's death.

I wanted to burn the devil out of myself.

The Magistrate's Court decided they couldn't

handle the complexities of Stuart's case

so they referred it to the Crown Court.

Disgrace. Forty policemen and

you still get bailed?

Beats me why you hate the system.

Well, my mum says she doesn't

understand it neither.

What did the barrister mean when he was

talking about "attempted manslaughter"?

I reckon I tried to cut my neighbour's

head off with a bread knife.

You didn't. Did you?

Yeah.

And if he hadn't have moved,

I'd have got him too.

So you called your neighbour who

made your boing-boing-whoosh bed

a poofter and then that's why he lost it?

No, he thought that I called him a poofter.

- And you did nothing of the sort?

- No.

Then what did you do?

I just asked his friend if he was a poofter.

It's not a joke, Alexander!

- Well, I mean

- When my bell's up, I'm looking at life!

I've lost my keys somewhere.

So you didn't call your neighbour who made

your boing-boing-whoosh bed a poofter.

But what What did his mate say when you called...

What did his mate say when you asked him

if he was a poofter?

Just... said he suffered

from premature ejaculation.

Which I thought was quite

interesting at the time

because I suffer from the same complaint myself.

Um, I'm going to see some friends in

Norfolk next week.

Come along.

No, can't.

You heard the Magistrate, I'm not allowed

out of Cambridge until me trial.

And another thing about washing

machines, right,

this fella on the TV,

he put three of them washing machine

inner bits together.

Not even a concrete one. Nothing.

And he said it was a sculpture.

And somebody bought it!

I'm not being funny, yeah?

But there is a viable business

opportunity there.

Rent a barn.

Lay out all the bits.

And when you've had enough

of washing machines,

do fridges.

You know, that's what really

annoys me, Alexander.

I'm always getting these great ideas,

you know, about how to make money.

People are always telling me that

they're wrong, you know?

I never get no encouragement.

No encouragement at all.

Can you hold the wheel?

You want some?

Uh, yes. Thank you.

Save me some.

I will.

I think I've got a bit of a cold coming.

Here, listen to this!

I apologise for not being

currently available.

Be so kind as to leave your

name and message.

So, why don't you just get an ordinary job?

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