175. Neighbours (3)

I put the phone down, pleased as Punch, and go back to make myself a cup of coffee. I consider making it in the big pot so I can give some to the police squad that is heading my way but then reconsider. This might be interpreted as an attempt to corrupt.

So I just wait. I wait for the coffee to be ready and I wait for the police to arrive. I am expecting at least two police cars, all lights flashing and sirens going so I can't miss them. 

My coffee is now ready and I pour myself a cup. Still no police. I decide that while waiting for the police I can have a cup of black coffee, no sugar, and a round of toast with butter and marmalade. 

Still no police. I may as well clear up. I put the dishes in the dishwasher, put the bread and the butter and the marmalade away and I even turn the dishwasher on.

Still no police. As I am not a very patient person I am starting to get a little annoyed and frustrated. I stare into the street every time I hear a car and I glare at my telephone. 

Still no police. This situation is now out of control. If they leave it any longer my dustpan and brush and bin liner are going to get stolen and I will have to phone in again - and no doubt a different brigade.

Still no police. I grab my phone and dial again. A woman answers this time. Miss Efficient.

'All right, I can see that we are on our way.' She repeats my address. I am impressed by this but won't let it show.

'We were on an other case but now we're done and so the car is on its way to you. It should be there within minutes.'

She said one car - singular - but again I decide to not show my disappointment and thank her, apologising for not being more confident in the services they obviously provide to the stricken community.

I try to be patient. I stare at the window into the street and suddenly I see white and blue. I jump up and rush out, relieved to see my paraphernalia is intact. They stop the car in the middle of our narrow street not bothering to park nor to turn the engine off. There is normally not much traffic in our street but soon three of four cars are piled up behind them. No sirens going. No lights flashing. I am about to gesture to the drivers not to beep their horns and to point to the police sign but decide against it. That would not help my case. The drivers must know anyway as they all wait patiently, humming and looking admiringly at the blue sky as if they had not an other care in the world.

I greet them, as you can imagine, with enthusiasm. A girl is already out of the car (Miss Efficient?) and comes to the scene with her pony tail bobbling furiously (reminding me of my daughter during her driving test). She looks at the black mess on the pavement. I cringe, hype worried that she might recognise the test papers (has a parent filed in a complaint already?). The driver of the car is a friendly looking round-faced man. He is talking to me so I get closer, my brush in my hand (why did I have to pick it up?). Both are talking to me at the same time, Miss Efficient on my left and behind me and Mr Driver of the police care (cool job) to my right and in front of me. I am a teacher and therefore should be able to cope with this kind of situation yet I find it difficult and keep turning my head from side to side as if watching a tennis match.

'Yes, they burned my bins!' To Miss Efficient.

'No, not a wheelie bin. Just bags.' To Mr Driver.

'No, it is not my wall.' To Miss Efficient.

'Yes, just bags and their contents.' To Mr Driver.

Miss Efficient has got it. She looks at me.

'Then if this is your neighbours' wall they need to report it.'

She did not wait for my answer and went to ring the bell of my poor neighbours. They already know of the damage anyway so I am not worried about sending the police to their door. Meanwhile Mr Driver absolutely wants to know what kind of bin it was: bug wheelie bin or the Council's yellow liners?

I am so glad we swapped to the yellow liners as he insists that in case it was a wheelie bin that was reduced to this pile of ashes then I would have to fill in a detailed report and ... might have to pay to replace the wretched item!

They have seen enough. Or have they notice the queue of cars building up behind them? Or have they just received an other important over the radio? They don't say. Miss Efficient gets back in the car and they drive off. Not even screeching their tyres.