Fallible

Yesterday evening at about (I thought) 5.30pm,
(my daughter thought) 6.00pm,
But was in actual fact 7.30pm (according to the police record of my 999 phone call)...

My daughter (K) and I witnessed a break-in, on the other side of the road, while we were sitting down to watch ‘Twilight; New Moon’.  Two men broke a window in the front door of number 53, and reached through to unlock it.  I’d say they were white, late 20s, darkish hair, no idea what they were wearing.     Just as the police car was arriving one of them came out and cycled off on an old-fashioned looking bike with a prominent big light on the front.  One of the police went off in hot pursuit.   Although the police hung around outside for a couple of hours, and had the door secured, that was all the excitement.

(I kept an eye out of the window as the movie was nothing more than teenagers sighing).

So, Jubilee Bank Holiday I am celebrating with the Queen, toasting her magnificent reginadom on the promise of an extra snooze the next morning.  But no, I am dragged out of bed before 9am to be interviewed by two detectives.

We should have straightened out our stories, made sure they corroborated; I looked like a lovable stoner, while K appeared to be the brains in the operation.  First impressions are often spot on.  For me, mostly, the burglars were invisible and could’ve been anyone.    K was more observant than I, and noted one of them was wearing a puffer jacket thing, whilst the other was in a grey hoodie with toggle strings.  They’d apprehended the one on the bike and showed us a picture of the cycle.  Just a modern mountain bike with a little flashy LED light.  We were vague about the times, the order of events; the only thing we could agree on was that visibility was good. 

When it was all over the only thing K and I could remember was one of the police guys having those pointy leather slip-on shoes made from weird yellow leather.