Friday, 20 February 2009

Down a Dark Alley...

My youngest son and I sat in the car this evening awaiting the return of eldest son from his guitar lesson. Blinding lights in the rear view mirror, a last-minute swerve and a police car swung in beside us. Two cops leaped out and belted off down the alley way in front of us. Youngest son and I exchanged raised-eyebrowed looks and surreptitiously locked the car doors.

Forty minutes later, bored to the back teeth, because neither eldest son nor the police officers had returned, we decided to have a walk. Actually, that's a lie; Matt's lessons can drag on for days if I don't poke my head in the door and shout, "Three minutes and I'm leaving without you, darling!" (It's the term of endearment that always get him moving...)

Well, youngest son and I had exited the car, stepped in front of the cop-mobile about to walk down the alley, when from the darkness, a deep voice yelled, "Get away from the car. Move back against the wall where I can see you. Do it now!"

Son and I, limbs all a-tremble, leaped three feet into the air and flattened ourselves against the wall. The growly voice, dressed in police uniform, threw himself towards us, and stopped dead. "Oh, sorry, darling. You all right? I thought you were kids messing with the car."

"No," I squeaked. "Just walking past...innocently..."

"I'm really sorry for scaring you."

"S'allright," I squeaked again.

He leaped into the car, reversed and screeched out of the car-park. I sneaked a look at youngest son, who was still pressed up against the wall, eyes wide, mouth open. When I was sure my legs could carry my weight again, we un-peeled ourselves from the wall and scurried back to the car.

I tell you, those streets just ain't safe anymore...

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