Free Me and My Brothers by Charlie Kray Page B

a problem. He said hello to Ronnie. Ronnie recognized him and stopped bashing the window.
    ‘Come on, Ron, take me down the billiard hall,’ Curly said.
    It saved the situation. Ronnie liked the idea and I went back into the pub for Mum and the old man and we all went to the billiard hall. What happened there was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life.
    While the rest of us chatted amiably, Ronnie was restless, prowling up and down all the time like a caged tiger. We all tried to calm him down but it was no good: Ronnie was in a world of his own and no one, it seemed, could get in. None of us could relax. Everyone kept looking at me to do something. But every time I tried to talk to him, he kept telling me he didn’t know who I was. He just kept prowling up and down…up and down…up and down…
    It seemed to go on for ages. And then suddenly Ronnie stopped. He looked all around him, a strange look on his face, staring at us all as if trying to remember us or recognize somebody. Then he turned and walked quickly to the middle of the room where he stood deep in thought, as though he had some major decision to make and he didn’t know what to do. His whole body suddenly stiffened as if someone had given him an electric shock. Weall stared at him, transfixed. We’d never seen anything like it in our lives and we didn’t know what to do. Gradually, Ronnie’s stiff, straight body lost its tenseness. The electric shock had been switched off. Slowly, he sank to his knees as if he was praying. He stayed like that for several seconds.
    We were all staring. Then I heard someone shouting, Charlie, for God’s sake, do something!’ I don’t know who it was but it snapped me out of my shock. I ran over to Ronnie and put my arm round his shoulder, but he shrugged it off and pushed me away. ‘Go away!’ he shouted. ‘Go away from me, I don’t know you.’
    He stayed like that for a few more seconds, then slowly got to his feet. I told Reggie we had to get him to hospital and he shouted to someone to call an ambulance. When it arrived, Ronnie refused to get in. Then the police came and we all coaxed Ronnie gently, telling him it was for the best, that he was unwell and we needed to make him better. Finally he agreed to get in.
    They put Ronnie in a bed with curtains round it and then, at about midnight, a doctor told us there was nothing wrong with him.
    We were shell-shocked. I told the doctor what had happened in the billiard hall.
    ‘We’re not trying to get him certified, you know,’ I said. ‘We think the world of him. We brought him here because there’s something badly wrong.’
    The doctor wouldn’t have it.
    He must be developing a cunning mind,’ I said. Because you’re a doctor, he’s behaving differently.’
    The doctor wasn’t impressed. But the situation was too critical for us to be fobbed off and I persisted. ‘Ronnie doesn’t even believe we’re his brothers. Just stand outside that curtain and listen.’
    Somewhat reluctantly, the doctor agreed. Reggie and I went in. ‘How are you, Ron?’ I asked.
    Ronnie reacted as we expected. ‘What are you two doing here?’ he said. ‘Get out!’
    We pointed to small scars on our faces as proof of our identities but Ronnie said, ‘You’ve had them put on. How clever. Go on, get out – you imposters!’
    Ronnie’s behaviour didn’t please us, but it did convince the listening doctor and he apologized for doubting us. He arranged for Ronnie to be admitted to St Clement’s Hospital in Mile End immediately.
    For the next two weeks Ronnie was given tests and more drugs to stabilize him. The family visited him every day. He always knew Mum and half-knew the old man, but for the first week neither Reg nor I had a chance: we were still imposters. And then one day I walked in and I could tell straight away that he was all right again.
    For the first time Ronnie talked about what he had been going through. It was weird: some of the time he realized