My area has always been borderline dodgy, but to be honest, one’s opinion of how dodgy seems to depend on which part of London the person making that judgement comes from themselves. Although actually, Miss BG loves cussing my area, even though where she grew up is way rough in my opinion! Lol. The other evening, I was going to eat some cereal (I’m not even going to say it), but realised that if I did, there probably wouldn’t be enough milk for Bro-in-Law’s breakfast, so went out to buy some. It was only about 8.00pm, but was already very dark of course. I walked in the middle of my road towards the shop, as it is a quiet road and the side of the pavement the shop is on is lined with trees that have very low-hanging branches, stretching across the pavement and making it necessary to stoop, even for a little munchkin like me.
As I got towards the end of the road, a dark car turned quickly off the main road and on to it, apparently narrowly missing and possibly physically brushing past a pedestrian who was stood just in the gutter, either on his way in to or out of the pub on the corner. The car must have clipped that corner at speed, but there was no screeching of tyres or noisy revving of the engine. What mostly drew my attention was hearing the man shout out at nearly being hit and then him and his older male companion shout abuse after the driver. In watching to work out exactly what had happened and if the man was OK, I suddenly realised that the same car was now speeding directly towards me. It didn’t seem to be going shockingly fast, but the engine suddenly revved and I realised he wasn’t intending to slow down. I ran out of the road and on to the pavement, then looked back at the car, seeing it speed up my road. At the same moment, a dark estate car turned the same corner and sped after it. I only realised it must have been unmarked 5-0 when it passed me and I saw discreet blue police lights out of its back window.
I turned back towards the two men who were still standing there on the opposite side of the road, hearing them still exclaiming in shock and one of them announcing loudly, “He’s a knob,” about the driver. “Are you OK?” I shouted over, realising they were very probably on their way out of the pub, if their slightly slurred speech and slowed movements were anything to go by. Or perhaps they were on their way back in after a ciggie break, lol. “Yeah, he’s OK,” the companion replied in an Irish accent as he started walking towards me, perhaps wondering if we needed to report something or if I could act as a witness. “The car following him had sirens,” I said, only later realising I of course meant the blue lights. Duh! Thankfully, they didn’t seem to notice my silly error and the obvious fact that despite their drunken state, if the car did indeed have sirens, they probably would have noticed such a loud obnoxious noise. “So it’s OK,” I explained, “I think the police are after him.” I can’t remember the rest of the garbled conversation, but they seemed somewhat reassured by my statement and the other guy appeared unhurt, just a little bit shaken.
I carried on to the few metres to the shop, getting the milk, a can of the tropical fizz I had a craving for and a big bag of kettle chips that Big Sis had a craving for. On my way back, the two guys were still there but now on my side of the road, the companion telling the man who had the near-miss that “there were sirens,” which is what made me chuckle with the realisation that I hadn’t meant ‘sirens’ at all. I walked the minute or so slowly back home, without a sense of urgency or worry about whether the police car managed to catch up with the other one. This is because I had the smug knowledge which the two pub patrons seemingly didn’t have and the driver of the getaway car definitely didn’t have, that my road is a cul-de-sac. Haha! The silly driver took a dead end!
As I turned the corner towards my house, as expected, there was the first car, doors open, presumably abandoned as the driver realised his mistake and they had to escape on foot. The unmarked estate car was parked behind it and there were a few plain-clothes officers investigating. There must have been more than one occupant in the getaway car, because a guy in a grey hoodie was stood to the side of the cars, looking rather annoyed at his failed attempt at escape, while having another man I assume was police keep a watchful eye on him. His partner in crime had obviously successfully escaped on foot and was now being pursued by one of the officers, which I knew because he was relaying the details back to his colleagues via radio, while trying to catch his breath. “White male…[huff, puff]…in a grey top…[more puffing]…has exited…[puff]…on the other side of Road Name
The cars were parked directly outside my house and I slowed down as I passed them, stopping for a moment at my door to try and work out what was happening. When I got in the house, I told Big Sis what was going on (she didn’t hear the ‘sirens’), although she seemed more concerned about the kettle chips I had bought. “Even if he’s got away,” I said, “they’ve still got his car, which means they can trace him, or at least have ruined his fun if it was stolen.” My CSI-watching is obviously having an influence on Big Sis, who replied, “Yeah, and they can get fingerprints from the car.” Yes. Yes they can. But will they use black dust, or the special pink kind I wonder?? Lol. I shamelessly pulled the curtain aside from the front window and momentarily peered out to check on the progress. At my suggestion, we retreated upstairs to my room, mainly because it is warmer more comfy, but a little because my window looks out of the front of the house and therefore onto all the action, lol. My curtains were still undrawn, so we looked through the nets to find that several uniformed officers had magically appeared, most likely in the marked squad car that was shining its own blue lights from the other side of the estate. Big Sis clambered on to the bed next to me, already munching the bag of kettle chips. We both knelt upright on the bed, checking on the action for a moment. “It’s like being at the cinema,” I said, laughing at us both peering out on to the scene framed beautifully by the window, but mostly at Big Sis noisily munching snacks next to me, which she graciously offered to share. We ate a few more kettle chips before realising that not much excitement was going on and it was time to draw the curtains.
Who needs TV, eh?
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