Friday, June 01, 2007

People of 'Interest'

I've just been woken at 5:30am by two very nice policemen in fatigues - the ones in blue jumpsuits tucked into their bovver boots and little peaked caps. I answered the door fearing the worst of course although all my little piggies were in their blankets.
P: Sorry to wake you so early.
Me: That's alright, better you than an irate taxi driver (the last time I was woken involved a driver who BabyBro had dogged for an earlier arrival)
P: Funny you should say that because this actually involves a taxi driver. Does James live here?
Me: Um No, he lives next door. Nobody's hurt are they?
P: No, nothing like that. We knocked on the door but nobody is answering *maglite torch hits eyes*
Me: I'll take you over there

I Dutifully escorted them to my brother's bedroom window and told him the good news, that two coppers were looking for his wayward son. Whilst waiting for BabyBro to don a jumper and some pants a short swarthy man joins them - obviously the taxi driver. They asked if anyone in either house was 18 - they're not, the youngest is 19 and a sweet young thing - butter wouldn't melt and all that. And that was it. I discreetly retreated home to make a cup of tea - hardly worth going back to bed now - and in they went - stayed for about 10 minutes and left. I've heard nothing since. He probably ditched his fare and did a runner. It wouldn't be the first time, NaughtyNeph makes a habit of it. (another little secret known by Auntie Nell but not his parents) He's leaving for the UK next week so hopefully after that we won't be known to Castle Hill Police as a 'family of interest'.

The point is, a fully kitted squad car and three people, two in uniform approached both houses, knocked quite loudly on both doors and not one dog made a whimper. It reminded me of the time when I was dreaming of helicopters (I would have rather been dreaming about Keanau Reeves but thats the way it was) . I could hear the rotor blades thud- thudding and stirred briefly at about 2:30am to find that there was a helicopter so low it nearly kissed the tops of the gum trees. There were search lights and squad cars and policemen crawling all over the back yard, the place was lit up like an alien invasion. Apparently someone had broken into a bank building not far from us and the search was on. Again, not one dog stirred. Out of 8 people living here, only BabyBro and I heard the commotion which went on for about half an hour. I was stunned, besides the noise and the flood-lit back paddock there were people running everywhere. ThePrincess stayed on the bed, Nelson briefly looked up and decided it was all too hard and Keira snored through it all. Labradors might be lovely dogs, great with kids but they welcome intruders with a wagging tale.



Now, how can I discreetly find out what this was all about . . .BabyBro has a habit of keeping his own children's indiscretions to himself but he occasionally berates my kids for making a mess in the pool room or other mild misdemeaners (they're perfect of course) . . . he'll shut up from now on. Ironically, when we had our little falling out about the noisy rehearsal a couple of weeks ago, he yelled at me in a drunken rage that I was 'irresponsible' for allowing a band to wake the dead at 9.00 on a Friday night . . . takes the cake really doesn't it. Karma is a wonderful thing.

3 comments:

Brian Damage said...

If you ditch a taxi fare in Dublin, the drivers get out and beat the living shit out of you.

I'm not joking.

Baino said...

Ha ha . . well he should have done that to NaughtyNeph but the driver was a little vertically challenged so would have had trouble dealing with a 6'2" drunk.

He's such a nice kid but does such stupid things. If they charge him, he'll have to surrender his passport the dickhead . . .he's heading off to Europe on Tuesday! I just LOVE that it's my brother's son . . .tell ya that was soooo satisfying. Mean I know but his kids are shites and mine are fablious. (I'm not biased)

Brian Damage said...

Snmall men are the angriest men of all - just look at jockeys. They beat horses for a living for Christ's sake.