Vinnie [antikvár]

CHAPTER 1 devil or angel I was seven years old. Just another kid in the street, an ordinary kid apart from the fact that I was already pretty experienced with a shotgun! Shooting was in the family — my dad, Peter, spent just about every spare minute he had out in the countryside with his mates and their guns. Just another kid with hopes and dreams, often lost in his own little world of make believe, longing one day to be as good as the Brazilian footballers we pretended we were. Our goalposts might only have been a couple of jumpers c^^ked on the ground at the local 'rec', but to us, it was the World Cup finals and just as serious as the real thing. But one day I shattered my own childhood peace of mind. I remember it as vividly as if it happened yesterday, because bad things, really bad memories, stay with you for a lifetime and this mistake, at the age of seven, taught me a painful lesson that still hurts whenever I remember it - the first good K^ng from my dad. He was a builder and had done a hell of a lot of work improving our new home at 147 Ivower Paddock Road in Bushey, Hertfordshire. He'd even put in a spiral staircase and not many kids could boast they