Stuart by Alexander Masters

counting the day’s take and step into the cigarette cubicle.
    The cigarette display was locked.
    Stuart and Smithy kept up a playful banter.
    â€˜Bit quiet round here, is it, love?’
    She had to bend down.
    â€˜Where’s your husband then–left you to do all the work as usual, eh?’
    She laughed, hitched up her tight skirt, inserted the key in the lock of the secret storage cupboard.
    When she re-emerged, Stuart paid and they left.
    At 3 a.m. that night they smashed the door off the supermarket with a car stolen in the next village, broke open the revealed storage cupboard and filled two sports bags with cigarettes.
    Driving back across the fens, they were as excited as spring lambs. Whooping and punching the air, they pulled the car over at a lay-by near the Tate & Lyle sugar factory and set light to the front seat. By the time the fuel tank caught they were halfway across the second field, Smithy carrying the two bags of fags and Stuart doing his best not to stumble in the ruts.
    Over the next week they sold the cigarettes–£1.50 a pack (‘£1 for the shittier brands’) or £5 for four. Twenty went to Stuart’s mum and stepdad. Ten to his sister. Her boyfriend wanted five. Smithy’s Gypsy connections were like a black hole for the remainder. They’d stolen two hundred packs, risked a year in jail and made £183.
    Another time, Stuart threw a TV at a policeman.
    PC Shedding: ‘As a result of information received we had reason to attend H——Junior School, H——.
    Upon our arrival at around 2.47 a.m., we approached the school on foot and due to the nature of the call began to check for any insecurities…I heard another door begin to open about five yards away to my left, I moved towards this door and it opened further. I saw a dark figure appear at the door and shouted, “Stop, Police!” As I did so the figure threw a large object at me, which I later discovered was a television set. Then I ran round to the front of the school and as I rounded the corner, I saw two white males running from the front of the school towards the entrance to the playground. I managed to grab hold of and restrain one of the persons. I brought him to the ground and he began to struggle, as a result of this I restrained him using Home Office–approved restraint techniques.’
    â€˜I ain’t got much of a run in me,’ admits Stuart. ‘I used to do the eyes and the ears, and Smithy’d do the graft, because I needed a head start if it come on top. And I was good at that. I’ve always been the eyes and the ears, but it was hard work.’
    â€˜So, was it Smithy you did the school with?’
    â€˜Not saying. No use asking twice. No. No comment.’
    â€˜I was on duty with Police Dog Shadow,’ the second officer at the scene remembered. ‘When PD Shadow indicated a track, he continued tracking out of the school gate and turned left travelling adjacent to the pond.’ Shadow chased the scent right up to the high street but it had vanished down the quiet, lamplit macadam.
    â€˜All I can say is you caught me bang in the act and I’ve got nothing else to say on the matter,’ Stuart grumped at his interrogation.

    It was Smithy who heard about the post office.
    He shouldered into Stuart’s fetid living room one day at about noon, when Stuart was still on bail for the school burglary, snapped off the TV, wrenched back the curtains. Sunlight flooded in.
    â€˜Wake up, you lazy bastard. I’ve got it. I’ve got it!
Twenty
…Wake up! Open your frigging eyes.
Twenty fu
…Fuck me, are you dead or what? All we gotta do is…Stu!
Twenty fucking thousand knicker!
’
    Coates village post office.
    PD Shadow
‘You muppet, Alexander, it was an Alsatian not a pug.’
    Stuart opened his eyes and felt round for the Stella. Half a can later, he spotted the weakness. ‘Smithy, fucking brilliant,