What a carry on. Police at 1 in the morning. Having a bit of a sleep (something I do from time to time as a bit of a treat) when trouble kicks off in the flat next door to our bedroom. Shouty fighty angry trouble. (Not for the first time I hasten to add.) Shouting outside the window is fairly commonplace for the company they keep but this time was bad. A fight had spilled out ont street. I was asked to phone the police, which I did after getting the requesters name.
Something about a ‘robbed mobile’ accompanied the general barrage of shouting.
Once the police turned up, I settled down with a cig and a brew on the wall next to our front door and watched the drama unfold (we’ve not got a telly you see). A lot of posturing and abuse, threatening and accusing deftly diffused by the boys and girls in blue attending the scene. Thought the dog van was a nice touch. A quick and perfectly timed single loud and powerful shout from the police dog within soon reminded the yoofs who the real hard cases were.
A quick natter with the police woman and back to bed. Bit of a pain having such a character living next door though. Police woman gave me some good advice though.
Right. I’m off to read for a bit me thinks.
YES! He’s moved out!