That morning, I went shopping at TeraGroce. On my way back, I noticed that the house that used to be Mrs AD’s mother’s house is up for sale. Through the kitchen window, it looked as though the wall to which the utensil-rack used to be affixed had been demolished — thus no doubt enlarging the kitchen by extending it into the dining-room behind it.
That afternoon, I took Mrs CJ up on her recent offer, and invited myself to Mr & Mrs CJ’s house for a cup of coffee.
Karl turned 5 on Friday 18 November. On the CJs’ mantlepiece, there is a set of new photographs of Charlie and Karl.
The CJs informed me that a long-established local pub, the Jolly Farmer, is now the New Delhi Junction restaurant.
Mr & Mrs CJ told me more about the ex-policeman whom they both know well:
One night, long ago, he made an arrest in Halfpenny Street. (That street no longer exists — it has been swallowed up by a retailer’s car-park.) The policeman and his colleague threw the two men they had arrested into the back of the police-van — they would not be allowed to do that nowadays.
Another time, shortly before a trial, the station sergeant tore a page out of the policeman’s notebook — that page contained material which could have weakened the case for the prosecution.
While the Troubles were still going on in Northern Ireland, the policeman was part of the protection team for a then-well-known politician whose constituency was not far from Peakville. When the policeman was working nights, his wife would sometimes receive a nuisance phone call at about 02:00. She began to suspect that the nuisance calls might be coming from a colleague of hers — whom she had told about the calls. Then one day the colleague asked: “Have you had any more of those calls?” The policeman’s wife told her colleague that a trace was going to be put on her home phone, in case the nuisance calls had anything to do with the IRA. Strangely enough, the policeman’s wife never received any more of those nuisance calls.
[Original posting 21 November 2012]