Gypsy Jane - I've Been Shot Four Times and Served Three Prison Terms?This is the Incredible Story of

by Lee, Jane

  My son John was born on 6 January 1985 at Forest Gate hospital and, when he arrived in this world, I was the happiest woman alive. I thought a lot about Jamie and what he was missing out on but it was his loss. He only came to visit John once and I never saw him again after that.

  I was going to name my son Ronnie, after my dad, but my brother came up to the hospital when all the other women were with their husbands so I said, ‘John, make out you’re my husband,’ because I felt embarrassed about not having my own man there. So he did and, for that reason, I named my son John Ronald Lee after the two most precious men in my life.

  Mum was there for the birth. I remember screaming out in pain and she grabbed my hand and said, ‘Don’t show me up.’ I have to laugh now. She said I could go stay with her and Dad for a week so I discharged myself and went to Mum’s. John was only a day old but I couldn’t stay at the hospital with all the other mums. I just wanted me and my baby home and, when I got there, Dad grabbed hold of me and said he was sorry for being angry. I cried with happiness. I needed my dad – not for anything but the love he gave me.

  That night Mum was completely drunk and started on me again, just like in the old days. It didn’t take much to set her off and I can’t even remember why she was having a go at me. But she didn’t hit me any longer. She knew by now that there was another side to me and not to push it too far. But her mouth made up for it. She would say the most spiteful things and, to tell you the truth, a hiding wouldn’t have hurt half as much as some of the things she came out with.

  So that same night I calmly picked up John and went home to my own flat. I loved Dad but I couldn’t stay under the same roof as Mum. My baby and I didn’t have much but we had each other, and I vowed there and then that my son would always have a loving home and be showered in love. I felt a love like I’ve never felt before. It’s called unconditional love and now, for the first time in my life, I knew what it meant.

  5

  ALL ABOUT A BOY

  John was growing up fast. He was so handsome and the perfect son. I was blessed when I had him.

  The next ten years were all about trying to be a mum and doing my best for John. But it didn’t work out like that because, every time I tried to go straight, life took a turn. A couple of months after John arrived I met a man called Brett who was three years older than me. He was a mechanic and I fell for him hook, line and sinker. He was a handsome man with blond hair who cared for me and I was truly happy.

  By this time I was 19 and the next five years with Brett were blissful, even though we had our rows. My best friend Rosie, our old babysitter, who let me stay with her when I was a kid, was there for me through thick and thin. We didn’t have much but Brett, John and I were happy. We had a caravan at Canvey Island near Southend where we had some wonderful summer holidays together. I was so happy I had found true love after Jamie. Brett was a good father to John. He really cared for him and he loved us both. But Brett wasn’t very successful at holding a job down so he didn’t bring much money in. We survived but life wasn’t always easy.

  I was hanging around with a girl named Mary and doing my best to be with John all the time. After I had been with Brett for about five years one of this girl’s mates told me she didn’t like what was going on at Mary’s house. I asked her straight out, ‘What do you mean?’ She looked frightened and said she wasn’t going to be the one to tell me. ‘Don’t play mind games with me because I don’t play them. You will tell me or I’ll do you.’ And she did. Brett and Mary had been having an affair. I couldn’t believe it. My best mate and my man.

  I flew round to Mary’s with a knife in my hand but she wasn’t in. She was lucky she wasn’t. So I went to Rosie’s and by now I was sobbing. Rosie said she didn’t believe Mary and Brett were having an affair and calmed me down. We had a drink, got stoned on marijuana and I said, ‘She can have him.’ Then Mary knocked at Rosie’s door and I went for her.

  I started to beat the living daylights out of her with my bare hands when she screamed, ‘I wouldn’t do it to you. He tried to pull me but I gave him a knock-back.’ I stopped beating her when she denied it and calmed down. But later that day I confronted Brett but I didn’t believe him when he denied it. He had slept with my best mate. I was certain of it. So I kicked him out of my flat. He kept begging to come back, saying he hadn’t done it. He even took me to Mary’s to get me to confront her again. He got her to say nothing had happened and she even said that she’d lied about him trying to pull her. I knew in my head he had cheated on me but my heart didn’t want to believe it. So like an idiot I took him back. But the love had died. I tried so hard to love him after that but I hated him instead.

  We moved to Rainham in Essex to try to make a fresh start and, believe it or not, I stayed with him for another five years but it didn’t matter how hard he tried, what we had was dead. We got married to try to make things work but I couldn’t make love to him anymore. He made me feel sick and, when he tried to touch me, I froze and I made excuses. In fact, I had a headache for five years. We used to fight all the time about it. I really tried to make myself get over it for John’s sake because I wanted us to be a family but, no matter what he did, nothing could bring the love back.

  He wasn’t bringing in much money so I turned my hand to collecting and restoring old furniture. That was my escape. The weeks, months and years passed by and, in a way, I was happy because, by staying with him, I was keeping my family together for my son. It was only at bedtime it got bad and most of the time I pretended to fall asleep on the sofa and he would go to bed on his own. I should have left him when he betrayed me but we live and learn and, if there’s one thing I learned about myself, it is that everybody only gets one chance and, if they fuck it up, they won’t get another. I can take a lot on the chin – the fights and the letdowns – but to betray me… well, that’s another story. I am not ever going to forgive. That’s what is inside me. I’m not going to say sorry about it because it is just the way it is. I tried but it just isn’t in me and I reckon there are a lot of people out there who may be able to relate to that.

  I used to tell myself that Brett was what I call ‘proper’ but I think I always knew he wasn’t that tough. Sure enough, I soon found out he wasn’t. After we had been in Essex for a few years Brett and his mate rented a garage in Purfleet where they did car repairs. Brett fell out with the garage owner and was shitting himself. I knew they knew where I lived and they had my number. ‘How could you be so stupid to bring trouble to our door?’ I said. I asked Brett how much he owed. But now Brett was as white as a sheet and started panicking.

  ‘You don’t know them,’ he said and ran out, leaving me and John.

  The phone rang and I answered it. The bloke on the line asked for Brett and I told him he wasn’t in. He said, ‘I’ve told your bloke I’m coming around tonight for my money and, if he hasn’t got it, I’ll leave that house looking like there has been a bloody massacre.’

  Well, as I listened on the phone, I wasn’t happy with Brett but, at the end of the day, he was my Brett. I did exactly what my mum would have done in the same situation and protected my family. I took a deep breath and then I said, ‘You come down my path and you won’t ever be getting off it alive. I’ve got two rottweilers and a sawn-off waiting for you. Come on. Bring it on.’

  He hung up on me. I hadn’t got two rottweilers really. I’d got a Staffordshire Bull Terrier, Buller, and my sawn-off was buried at the pickle factory. I couldn’t even go and get it as I didn’t know what time they would be coming. My 15-year-old cousin Kathy was with me and she had more balls than most grown men. I knew they were coming that night at who knew what time. So Kathy and I were all alone and Brett wasn’t even answering his phone. He was hiding.

  Coward, I thought to myself. He had got us into a war and it was me that was going to have to stand and fight and get us out of it. I was so pissed off with Brett. By bringing his problems to my door he’d shown himself to be a bigger idiot than I thought he was. />
  I boiled up a big chip pan full of fat and I gave Kathy the sledgehammer while I armed myself with my samurai sword. Then we waited with my loyal Staff by our side. The Gran had taken over and I was ready for a war.

  These men are scum, I told myself. Just like Brett. I mean, if you’ve got a problem with someone, you don’t go trying to scare their bird and kid, do you? Whoever this garage owner was, if he turned up he would come proper unstuck, as I was not your normal bird. In situations like that I’m not afraid to admit I am one sicko. Especially when I think me and mine are in danger. I’m sorry but that is the way it is.

  We sat up all night waiting and I love Kathy with all my heart for sticking with me. It looked like we were in an old-school war and she was as loyal as they come. After that night she became my soul mate and will be until the day we both die. I was so proud of her. But I was relieved that it hadn’t come to anything. Of course, I’d have gone to war and given it my best and, believe me, a few of them would have got hurt. And yet all I wanted was to lead a violence-free life and look after my son. Oh, how I tried to have a normal, happy family. Brett phoned the next day, still shitting himself, and I told him it was safe to come home. When he got back I told him he was out of order and that he should have sorted something out before it had come to this. ‘You’ve been asking for trouble and don’t you ever bring it to my door again,’ I told him. I thought how I would have died for that man when we first got together. But first he betrayed me with Mary and now he had left me to face the consequences of his falling out with the garage owner and I just didn’t know how he could have done that to me. But I just told myself that he was part of my family and I would just ignore him. I was going to live with him but I didn’t have to love or trust him. I knew I had to be prepared for it to happen again. I also knew that I couldn’t rely on Brett for my safety, much less to bring in money. I decided that the only way was for me to start looking after myself. I’d had enough. I had tried to turn my back on crime for John’s sake but life just wasn’t letting me go straight. It was then that I decided to get right into guns and, believe me, I put my heart and soul into it.

  I knew it was no good having a gun that was buried miles away at the pickle factory. So I went and dug up the sawn-off in case of future emergencies. I only knew a little bit about guns. Basically, I knew how to load one and pull the trigger so I decided I needed to know more. I went to my local library and got loads of books and read up. I found out that, if a gun is over a hundred years old, you can own it legally as an antique. And it can work just as well as any other gun. So you can legally own a Colt .45, for instance. Bullets, however, are not legal but I discovered bullet-making gear is legal. Shells are legal and so is the firing cap. The only thing that is not legally available is gunpowder. I needed some black powder and I got it from fireworks.

  I learned how to make a bullet in ten seconds. That meant I could put together six bullets in a minute. I learned to strip a gun down to all its parts so that you wouldn’t even know there was a gun in the house. In ten minutes, I could put it back together, fully loaded and working. I bought a rifle at a military fair that had been used in the Boer War. This rifle could blow a hole through a elephant but it was legal because it was an antique. Soon I had a collection of weapons – and they were all legal. I could go and put the sawn-off back in its place at the pickle factory.

  Now it was time to learn how to use my weapons properly. I joined a gun club in Brentwood, Essex and quickly realised the big difference between me and most of the other members when it struck me how people went out shooting birds and animals. I could shoot wrong ’uns all day long but a defenceless animal that never hurt anyone? No, sorry. It’s not me.

  I wasn’t that good a shot at first but with practice I got a lot better. By this time John was about eight and I soon saw that he was a natural. The boy didn’t even need a sight. He just pointed and hit the target every time. I remember there was a clay pigeon show, which John entered, and he scored an incredible 39 out of 40. I was so proud. In fact, he had only missed the first one as he had never used a shotgun before and the weight of it threw him off a bit.

  But more than winning competitions, the best part of our new ability was that, if we received any more threatening phone calls from dodgy garage owners – or anyone else, come to it – we were ready for a war. Now, I can hear you asking yourself – why didn’t I simply call the police and let them deal with everything? Well, as I’m sure you have gathered having heard about my background, you just didn’t do that. And anyway, I knew no fear. You see, blokes think us women are helpless. But, believe me, boys, there is a lot more to some of us than meets the eye. One of my friends went on a job and his gun blew up in his own hand. I’ve never had one blow up on me. Why? They are all tested and ready to go before I use them. Then there was the mate who did a jeweller’s. This one was a success but the getaway driver had some trouble and couldn’t do it so they got a replacement. But when they came running out the shop with bags of gold and diamonds and their sawn-offs, they found the car was not there. They had to run back into the shop, alarms going off everywhere, when the driver suddenly pulled up outside and they ran out, all panicking. When they asked the driver where he had been, this idiot said he had been to the shop to get a can of Coke. I think I would have shot him myself if he was on a job with me. I couldn’t stop laughing. Oh, it did get funny, you know. Nothing is ever perfect, is it? We can only try our best but you do need good common sense. No education can beat a bit of common sense.

  I had got myself properly armed and my cousin Kathy had moved in, as she was now my best friend as well as family. Kathy had come over to England from her home country of Ireland when she was ten or eleven. She was my saviour, as having her around made it easier to live with Brett. John was growing up fast. We hadn’t got much but I hadn’t done anything that could get me shot or ‘lifed’ off. He was so handsome and the perfect son. I was blessed when I had him. He was the most precious thing life could ever give me and I didn’t want to put that in jeopardy. But Brett had been on the dole for a while after the garage incident and he couldn’t provide for himself, let alone me and John. In fact, it was still the other way around. I knew I could provide if I needed to and it looked like that was the way things were going. We were paying everything between us but now I was paying it all. But for the time being I wasn’t breaking the law. I was just bending the rules a bit.

  Brett’s sister-in-law owned a cafe and I was running it for her. Meanwhile, Kathy was looking after John indoors during the day while I was at work and we were surviving. But it’s a small world and I was in the cafe one day when a rich-looking man came in. He was known in the area. He was a regular at the cafe and I’d seen him around enough to recognise him, though I didn’t personally know him. But Brett seemed to – at least, he did a strange thing. He turned absolutely white, dived to the floor and, trying to stay out of sight, slipped out the back way. When I looked up again, that bloke was just standing there. He came up to me and said, ‘I thought I recognised your voice. You’re the bird on the phone with the sawn-off and rottweilers, ain’t you?’ That was when the penny dropped.

  ‘And you’re the coward that still hasn’t found his balls and brought it on yet, ain’t you?’ I said. I had a big blade from the cafe in my hand under the counter and I was waiting for his next move. I’d come to like this man. He was respectful and it was obvious he fancied me. But although I wasn’t sleeping with Brett – and I couldn’t even stand him anymore – he was still my old man. To the outside world we were a normal family. I despised him but I wouldn’t do him wrong. Now it seemed that the balance had changed. Bring it on, I thought. I know that was a mental thing to wish for but that was just me. Things had happened and I couldn’t go back and still hold my head up, could I?

  Then he said, ‘Can I shake your hand, love? I truly apologise for my words on the phone. And, girl, you’ve got some balls on you. Most men would have shit themselves but here’s a woman and
she wants a war? I could hardly believe my own ears. I’m truly sorry for putting you through that. I was a bit caught out because you answered the phone instead of your Brett.’

  I laughed and accepted his apology as I put the blade under the counter. But I still had to tell him straight about how I felt. I told him he was out of order by involving a bloke’s bird in something she hadn’t had a hand in. He accepted my reprimand like a gent and told me that Brett’s garage debt had now been forgotten by way of an apology to me and that he didn’t have to worry. ‘He wasn’t worried about you anyway,’ I lied, thinking what an embarrassment Brett had become after diving for the floor and running out the back.

  Then we suffered a tragedy. Rosie’s ten-year-old daughter, Heather, died of a brain tumour and it crippled me. It was, and still is, the saddest thing that has ever happened to me. I went back to Silvertown and stayed with Rosie for the next two weeks. So did Paul, Rosie’s brother and my lifelong friend. Me and Paul were like brother and sister but I developed other feelings for him during that time and a few months later I met him at the flat and we made love. Brett and I hadn’t been together in that way for the past five years. We were together but more like enemies, just living together. Paul was one of my best friends and he made me feel special, wanted and loved. Something I hadn’t felt for so long. I left Brett that same day and I’ve never seen him since. I also gave up working in the cafe, as it was Brett’s sister-in-law’s, and I was back to ducking and diving to make ends meet. I had known in my heart that this day would come from the night Brett left me and John after he received the phone call that sent him running. I had to fend for myself and I was one step away from being back in the criminal world – the same world I had so desperately tried to leave behind.