NLEK

So yesterday in my unemployed state I watched a little documentary about the Kray twins, and being an East London gangsters grand-daughter it got me thinking about my family history and all the insane stories my granddad used to tell. My favourite story is the one about my great granddad stealing a shed load of mink fur coats from a well known designer department store in London and then taking them back to his wife to share out with the family. On arriving home, pleased as punch about his latest scam he was greeted with little affection and instead received a stern telling off. My great grandma made him return every single mink coat except one in particular that she had taken a liking to. It would be a waste not to reap at least some benefits after all.

I have always been fascinated with that lifestyle, the women are so elegant and the fellas are proper gentlemen, but the thing I admire the most is the sense of friendship and loyalty that existed amongst each member of each gang.

Born just one street away from the Kray twins my great granddad was bound to get involved in some sort of East London shenanigans, and that he did! With various stories about gold bullion heists at Heathrow airport and dodgy Mercedes sales my great-grandad was, to say the least, a colourful character. Generations to come were set to follow in his footsteps, with Grandad Harry relying on his sawn-off shot gun to scare away raucous children playing outside and my own Dad selling luxury “one off” mattresses to Idi Amin, there is definitely a trend in the Read family genes.

I started young, as I remember one summer in particular developing what I thought was the business scam of the century. Offering to weed the garden for Mum for a small fee I set about collecting all the weeds I could find and placing them in small plastic planters. A few hours later Mum found me at the bottom of the drive selling my “exotic plants” to passers-by, bless my Nan I think I sold her about 8 dead dandelions.