Wild Bill Page #7

Which of course I ain't!

- Take it out of what I'm owed.

- Which is what precisely'?

I done time for you!

You, Johnny, Alan, Davey,

- and of course Mr. Edgar.

- Don't get lippy with me!

(LAUGHS)

Apple never falls far

from the tree, does it, eh?

You. You're all out of credit, all right?

That's the last I want

to hear anything about you having

done eight years for anyone,

least of all me, or you are gonna end up

in this f***ing stadium

as a f***ing permanent fixture.

- Clear?

- Crystal.

Oh, good!

Good to see yer again, Glen.

And it's good to see you, mate.

Let's do lunch sometime.

- Yeah.

- Yeah.

C*nt! Little Bill.

- I thought they were gonna kill us.

- Yeah, so did I, mate. So did I.

- You all right?

- Think I've got a splinter.

(SIRENS)

- What's going on, Dad?

- They ain't selling ice creams.

Stay still! Stay still!

Don't move. You're nicked!

- What? Who? Me?

- Don't piss about, Bill!

Wait! What am I supposed to have done?

Oh, be fair. Have a look at yourself!

Get in the car!

Dean!

Right, William Hayward, you're under arrest...

Oh, my God!

I still don't know

what I'm supposed to have done.

He was at me nan's. I swear! She's not well.

Training him up?

Everyone's a grass nowadays, Bill,

and you weren't exactly subtle, were yer?

Can I have a word with my boy, please?

- Be quick.

- What happened?

Dad battered T, Dickie and the rest of the pub!

He's glass, this one, ain't he? Time up.

- Look after them for me, Rox.

- Course.

And behave yourself, you!

Ere, hang on. You're coming home, in't ya?

Of course I am. Soon as I get out.

Yeah, well, you know where we are.

Are we done? Right, how old are you?

I'm 16.

You're gonna need to contact

the family liaison officer

at Stratford police station. You got that?

Oi, mate. You got kids?

- Two girls.

- It's good, innit?

Most of the time.

See that blond boy there?

That's my son, that is, and the little 'un.

They're my boys. I'm their dad.

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