Wannabe in My Gang? (36 page)

One evening I was sitting in the local pub with Emma when two young musicians walked in, set up their equipment and began to play. I could not believe what I was hearing. I have loved music all of my life and have seen most, if not all, of the major artists play live, but these boys were something else. I asked the landlord who they were and he said the guitarist and vocalist was Adam Mezzatesta, and the keyboard player was a guy named Anthony Shiels. ‘They call themselves Mesh 29,’ he said. When they were packing up their equipment, I introduced myself to them and said I thought they were wasting their talent playing in village pubs in front of a dozen or so people. I offered to manage them free of charge for a year and if at the end of that period we were not getting anywhere we could go our separate ways. Adam and Shielsie said that they would ‘give it a go’. We shook hands and from that moment on I threw myself into getting them as much exposure as possible. Within weeks they had performed at The Cavern in Liverpool, The Rock Garden and The Borderline in London and supported ex-Carter USM star Jim Bob at The Shed in Leicester. An American record company has shown an interest in the band and two German TV stations have featured them in programmes. I know it is only a matter of time before somebody offers them a recording contract. It is extremely rewarding to see my efforts helping two decent young men fulfil their dream.

Listening to them talk about the future with such hope and excitement makes me realise the true cost of my wasted years. I can never take back the pain and misery I have caused those I love, those I thought I hated, or myself. I can only try to make amends.

How can anybody who has joined me on this journey say that crime is glamorous or gangster equals chic? If being a gangster is all about being clever and streetwise, why do so many of them end up living their entire life in the gutter?

The men and women who write these books about events they have made up or who lie to show themselves in a better light are inadequate social misfits crying out for attention. They are sad, lonely individuals who want people to admire them, like them and think they are somebodies. They surround themselves with fools they publicly call ‘a firm’ and privately call friends, but they know deep down nobody really gives a shit about them.

That is not a criticism, it is a fact. When the individuals in this book have finished telling people they are going to shoot, stab or murder me for what I have said, they will go home, reflect and know everything I have said is true. I have no doubt their loved ones will have been telling them the same thing for years, so it shouldn’t come as that much of a shock to them.

When they sat down to write an account of their lives they may have thought that they were producing a book which people would admire them for. They were obviously so ashamed of telling the truth they turned to fantasy for inspiration. Stuck for genuine material, they probably believe that their lives have only been worthy of filling one book, but if they were prepared to unburden themselves of this gangster, I’m-so-fucking-hard nonsense, they would have another, more useful and important story to tell.

Tony Lambrianou, always keen to point out that he can walk around with his head held high, may be able to really walk tall if he knew that by being honest he had prevented an impressionable young man from spending his life in jail. If he told young people how he had been treated by the Krays, that gangs are no good, that the Krays were selfish, seedy bullies and there can never be loyalty amongst people who have devoted their lives to breaking rules and laws, he may be able to look at himself with pride. These days, the former ‘Kray gang boss’ must wonder what side of the mirror he is really on.

I am sure Gaffer, who I know endured the misery of spending an unhappy childhood in a home through no fault of his own, could give a boy in a similar situation hope and a will to make something of his life. Instead of writing a book about how hard he is, he could write about how much pain his anger, stupidity and recklessness have caused him and those he loves.

As for the Frayne brothers and Dave Courtney . . . Well, I suppose everybody is entitled to dream.