Totally Inveigled in the Underworld

 

There is heavy banging coming from somewhere.

I vaguely wonder if it’s my neighbour needing help, but these thuds have more energy behind them.

It’s half-past seven.

I’ve been awake since five so I’m not being disturbed by the banging that continues.

I realise there must be someone banging on yappy dog’s door.

I wrap myself in my dressing gown and go downstairs.

I know I look a fright and that my hair is wild.

There is a policeman standing outside the house next door.

“Sorry love,” he says as if I’ve just arisen from the sleep of Alph. “Sorry to disturb you. Do you know if Rhys still lives here?”

I have occasionally seen a man living there in the rented house, but I didn’t know that his name was Rhys. I’ve also been away recently and I haven’t seen my neighbours in their garden, but with the remnants of hurricane Katia blowing through the trees wildly that’s hardly surprising.

“I don’t know,” I reply, suddenly conscious that someone might be listening to my words.

But for all I know they might have left last weekend, while I was away. The yappy dog certainly hasn’t been around.

The policeman looks at me as if he knew I would say, ‘I don’t know’. His look tell me that he thinks I’m obviously an old bag totally inveigled in the underworld who is protecting my neighbour. He looks at me as if he knew I’d be the type of person that wouldn’t co-operate with the police. He expected me not to know who my neighbours were. He expected no help and he didn’t get any.

“Sorry to disturb you,” he says dismissively and he gives up battering next door’s door.

And I’m left to ponder my answer. Did I tell him the truth? Was there anything else I could have said? At least I restored peace and quiet to the street.