Not even sorry

So let me start with a disclaimer first. I’m not a thief. OK, I did once take a Mars bar from Mr Jacob’s shop when I was 8, but I also did 2 years of backbreaking labour for him delivering newspapers when I was 14, so I think we’re even. My true story of stealing comes later in my twenties during the annual stocktake (inventory for any Americans out there). Store staff were responsible for counting any items in the stock rooms, then an army of contractors would come in and count the shop floor for us.