“I wish there was more time. More time to have shown them what I really could do.”
I asked him: “And what exactly did you do?”
“Enough,” he says slowly. “I did enough in what time I had.”
I ask again: “What did you do that was enough?”
“I’m not giving you exact details,” he says.
I respond: “Why not?”
“Because I’m not,” he says. “If I tell you exactly what I did, they’ll get me for it, and they’re never going to get me. But I can tell you I didn’t loot a thing. I wasn’t out to nick a pair of trainers or a telly - it wasn’t about that. But put it this way, I went to bad happy that night. I slept well.”
