Should I open the window? “No, officer, I am not eavesdropping on you, it’s
the terrible Summer heat the cooking smells in here.” Alternatively, I could go out and ask them to move their cars from my parking space. There is a police van and car outside. When they move from outside my window, I open it to hear more, but only catch the odd word. It is the tone of voice I get, the professional policeman telling the truth to the scrote who is not listening well enough. No sign of a forced entry.
Other police stand under the overhang, out of the rain. There are five of them, in their yellow jackets, looking bored. An ambulance appears, with a brief sound on the siren, but sits outside.
Stubborn woman, your Mum, Brandon, says Ben’s voice.
Finished up going to St Mary’s for about a week, says a woman. Something about “Crisis team”.
Steph walks into the ambulance. Will they section her, I wonder. There was something about “if this happened outside on the street…” I saw her this morning, and we wondered if it was going to rain, and was my washing safe on the line? Steph was drying hers on the radiators. Odd, though, that she looked out the door as soon as I opened mine, as if she wanted that chat. Brandon walks into the ambulance but walks out immediately and the doors are shut from within.
The police van leaves, with two men, as if they had expected bother but it did not happen.
I came over about two hours ago, says Ben. A bottle and a half…? She had a couple of glasses, and she lost the plot. Lost the plot.
“She’ll probably want a fryup in a minute.” But Steph’s mum gets into the ambulance, and it drives off with Steph.
It’s my own problems I should be worried about, I suppose, but it’s not just grim fascination. I feel some sympathy.