All her listeners would laugh dutifully, until she had gathered enough acclaim, whereat she would break through the laughter in her throaty voice: “Then I left odd money about and watched what happened. Those who brought it to me got a toffee or a fag — as a reward, see. Those who kept it-well, just you imagine! There was one-he’s still on the game today and never been caught: no names, no packdrill, mind. He was a proper marvel. I went to see his Pa, and believe you me his Pa was a real old pro — been at it all his life, he had, and taught all his kids before they were breeched. He was that smart I Only had to go out once or twice a week, he did — and now, his kids keep him in luxury. Well, then: you’re all apprentices here, and you’ve got to learn the techniques and there’s no better way than pictures . . .  ” •

Aunty would roll down a small screen and show coloured pictures of her graduates working among crowds.

“Sporting crowds are by far the best,” she would go on. “They get so excited that even after the game they’re so worked up they couldn’t tell if you was picking their pocket or giving them a bit of you-know-what!”

This particular sally was always received with a tremendous gust of laughter, but the film which followed was watched with rapt attention. The viewers would see small figures moving among the crowds; lifting jackets, slipping hands in pockets, even cutting rear pockets with a razor blade to catch the wallet as it fell out. And there were the girls who opened and rifled handbags while women were talking to each other. There were shopping scenes, too, in the big Knightsbridge stores and in Oxford and Regent Streets as well as the suburban shopping centres, where girls were particularly active.

“If a girl’s seen carrying two handbags, no one’s all that surprised,” Aunty would say. “But if a boy’s caught with just one, he’ll be in the nick before the night’s out.”