I predict a riot

I PREDICT A RIOT!

If you have ever moved away any distance from your home town, then you will know how hard it is to slot straight into the new area.

My story here goes back nearly 27 years, prior to moving to my current home town, Poole.

I am from London and I initially left as an 18 year old. My parents were in the licensing trade running a working man’s club in Hackney hospital for the staff there.

After my grandparents passed away my dad’s twin brother David suggested that they go into partnership buying a pub.

My uncle lived in Hertfordshire on the border with Bedfordshire and it is in Bedfordshire that my parents bought a small village pub.

I had a long-time girlfriend Caroline, who lived in Billericay (some distance from Hackney) at the time and I had just lost my job, so I had nothing to lose moving away from London so I went along as well.

I thought this would be the start of a new life, slow pace little village new friends and a pub to run in the future.

However people seemed to think that because you are from London that you were automatically a wide boy or a crook. And even though they had been in prison for 20 years, the locals seemed to think that everyone in London was connected to the Kray twins somehow!

The village we moved to was actually quite a large village (longest in England I believe) there was something like 13 pubs and 3 clubs along the main high street at the time.

I made a couple of friends initially but both of these was from outside the village, one Paul was from Southampton and one Pat was from Stevenage. I also had a couple of cousins locally as well.

The village itself was very diverse there was a large Indian community as well as a large Italian community; this was due to the nearby brick works.

Coming from London I had no issue with this I had many friends from all different backgrounds and so was happy in all their company. To be honest I was more the outsider just for coming from outside the village skin colour never came into it for them, it was where you were from.

There was though one particular guy (Leo) within the group who really pushed my buttons. For whatever reason he felt it was his job to goad me constantly. Snide comments, sarcasm, dirty look even the odd jab here and there.

It got to a point where I spoke to my dad about it, but because of the business however my dad asked me to turn a blind eye and let it go, ”just ignore him” he would say, so this I did.

Every year for charity there was a pram race through the village. Basically you start at one end and end up at the other stopping at each pub along the way to drink a pint of beer. All teams put together a theme of fancy dress and had sponsors to raise money for charity.

It was a real high in the social calendar of the village. My two friends and I took part and enjoyed the experience. We went as 2 cannibals with a missionary in a cooking pot.

It was after this race the pub was buzzing and everyone was having a good time. The pubs all had extensions to drinking hours (this was before all day opening) and so the beer was flowing happily.

For some reason I had to go outside of the pub, this happened to be exactly the time when my nemesis was walking past. As I looked at the smarmy twat walking along my blood started to boil.

To be honest it was probably more to do with the amount of beer I had drank than anything he had done, but by the time I went back inside my rage was overflowing.

Clearly as I got back to the bar it was showing on my face how angry I was as Caroline asked me “whatever is the matter with you” “that Cunt Leo has just stuck his fingers up at me the fucking prick” I replied he hadn’t to be fair but the months of goading and letting it go for the sake of pub takings had hit its limit.

“Don’t take it out on me go and smack him one” was her response! Well you didn’t have to tell me twice.

I left the pub like a rocket, instinctively I headed towards the local corner shop, I don’t know why. I don’t recall the walk to the shop it was a good 5 minutes away but for me even now that part is a total blur. As I arrived at the shop door I could see he was in there. Like a stranger in a Western film I flung the door open and stood in the doorway!

“You ya Cunt outside now” was my opening gambit not very original I know.

He just stood there looking straight back at me confused.

He made no attempt to respond to my request to step into the street, Instead he just looked at his group of friends with him, (who I had not even noticed).

I headed towards him with real purpose and before I could think I had punched him square in the eye!

I had a gold initial ring on and this must have caught him at an angle as his eye just burst open. It came up instantly and started to pour with blood.

“Come on you cunt lets ave it” I yelled but no response he just cowed there. Bang I followed it up with another large clump to the head.

My rage was blind nobody else in the room mattered, his friends stood there in shock. The shop keeper was shouting for me to stop. And then as the rage lifted after the second shot there was Leo crouching cowering away from me.

Instantly I felt guilt the rage left me and I became aware of those around me.

Just as I started to get it back together the door flung open and in rushed Pat my mate from Stevenage.

“Come on you mugs who wants it? We’ll take you all on” he screamed.

Worried that I was alone Caroline had sent Pat to cover my back, as luck would have it I did not need his help I had done my damage, made my point the matter was closed.

On seeing what I had done Pat roared with laughter goading the local lads as we left.

“Get in there my son, you fucking smashed him” he said to me victorious as we walked back towards the pub. My guilt started to lift and I started to feel elated to be honest. I was almost proud of myself for standing up to this person who was making my life a misery. I had shown him up to his friends. He was not the tough guy he made out to be, and I had also sent a message not to try it on. I did feel good I cannot lie about it.

I had to make my dad aware of what had happened as he had asked me to leave it alone. He was fine however he realised that it had been a strain on me for some time and he accepted that I had done well to let it go for the amount of time that I had.

I am not sure how long had elapsed since my altercation before repercussions started to present themselves, It didn’t seem long but by the time it started the pub had started to thin out. All that was left was practically family members. My dad’s twin and his two boy’s one of my mum’s brothers (Johnny) and his daughter and me Caroline and my mate Pat. 

There was a family in the village (all areas have them) that were the local tearaway’s the hard nuts. They were 4 brothers but the younger 3 had basically lived off of the oldest’ s reputation. Their dad knew what they were like, but their mum thought the sun shone out of their arses. They was always in trouble with the old bill and they had caused trouble in all the pubs at one time or another.

The middle brother Mark came to the pub and started to call out my mate Pat! To this day I have no idea why he came for Pat and not me as Pat had not really done anything. But here he was as bold as brass outside giving it the big I am.

Although Pat had moved to the village from Stevenage his heritage was London Irish. We had become friends straight away. He was the only mixed race person in the village and on top of that he was a cannabis growing and smoking Rastafarian! This guy was really laid back for the most part and fiercely loyal. He was also, as it turned out, completely fearless.

Pat walked out in to the street to face Mark closely followed by the rest of us. Mark was a big guy intimidating and confident but more in the stereotype thug way. His plan was to front Pat out with Racist abuse, but Pat with the character he was just laughed in his face. This had the effect of infuriating Mark more and more. He snapped and ran at Pat throwing his arms at him trying to connect. Pat on the other hand stepped back taking a boxing pose and just picked his jabs at will. Unbeknown to me at the time Pat had trained in boxing as a young boy.

Being mixed race had caused him issues in the past and his granddad had made sure he was equipped to look after himself.

This made Mark become desperate and he managed to grab on to Pats Jumper basically trying to grapple with him.

As cool as you like Pat dipped and backed away pulling his jumper off leaving himself stood there bear chested. As he moved to a standing position he flexed his arms and chest, this raised a huge cheer from those watching further infuriating Mark!

This fight was over as quickly as it had started Mark stumbled away across the road to his older brother Kevin who by this point had been watching. Looking a dejected and beaten man Mark stumbled to the safety of his brother. Shouting abuse as he went.

As we returned inside the pub nobody seemed to notice that Leo’s 2 brothers were coming along the road to meet up with Kevin, they were intent on taking Pat on. Pat did though he was on it as quick as a flash. He was on them toe to toe picking punches off against all three of them in a row.

Although Pat was a tough cookie fighting three people at once is not going to be easy. Eventually he was overwhelmed so he pulled back and ran.

This was no retreat though Pat knew something that these guys did not know. Pat was leading them to the back gate of the pub yard. Pat was followed by only one of the three.

What he knew that they didn’t was that behind the gate was a shovel! This shovel and his pursuers head soon became acquainted!

Pat dipped behind the gate and as Leo’s brother came through Pat hit him side on with the shovel actually breaking his collar bone!

Pat then proceeded to climb over the 6 foot wall! The problem that faced him the other side was Kevin and Leo’s oldest brother were there waiting.

They managed to get Pat on the floor where they stamped and kicked at him.

Pat was made of stronger stuff though he curled himself into a ball “is that all you’ve got you cunts” he kept shouting out. He really had some bollocks!

 

Within minutes we were all back outside the pub as a large gathering of the friends of Mark, Leo and their brothers had gathered. A full blown battle commenced!

Bottles and chairs flew through the air. Windows were smashed and patio furniture as overturned.

The scene was bedlam my mum and dad both uncles and cousins were all involved in the fracas even Caroline was out there in the middle of a full scale riot.

During this madness one of my least proud moments occurred. Being totally out numbered I thought it would be a good idea to arm myself with a pool cue.

Out I came swinging it intent on doing some damage.

Unfortunately the first person I came into contact with was fucking massive! He grabbed the cue from my grip, without hesitation he held it aloft and snapped it in half.

No effort, no strain just a snap and a grin!

I shit a brick, this man mountain now had two pieces of wood swinging in my direction. There was only one thing left to do “DAAAAADDDD!!!!!”

I shouted out like a 5 year old bullied in the playground.

This had the benefit of distracting my attacker long enough for me to make my get away. Clearly I did not cover myself in glory during that part of the altercation.

The battle seemed to last forever but the fact is it was only minutes. Within no time sirens were heard and the locals were on their toes and as quickly as it started it was over.

The Police were on our side as I said they knew all about these guys and their thugary, they had caused problems all around the area over the years. So my dad pressed charges and the main culprits had to go to court. They received the obligatory slap on the wrist. They were also banned from the pub which actually helped business as people felt happy these people would not be around.

My parents never blamed me for what happened that day, but I do blame myself up to a point.

The truth is Leo and I was always going to come to blows. It was just a matter of time. Mark and Kevin had no reason to challenge Pat but they did, so there must have been an underlying resentment against him.

I cannot say it was racially motivated for sure but that would be my guess.  

My time in the village was relatively short but it was eventful! And that is another story.