This morning I had an unexpected ring on the doorbell[1]. Looking out of the window by my desk[2], I saw a policeman. He asked for access to the back garden, explaining that some neighbour’s telephone had been thrown over the fence into the garden, and could he retrieve it.
Huh? How on Earth is this a police matter? Why can’t the ‘phone’s owner just come and ask for it? Don’t the police have better things to do with their time?
Anyway, it seemed harmless enough, so I let him come through to the garden (which is shared between the four flats in this house). He rang the number, and indeed we heard the phone ringing. It was clearly not in our garden, but next door!
Huh?
Well, if the police have time for that kind of trivia, will they please take a few minutes each day to remove the cars that routinely (and totally illegally) park to block the pavement outside, and make the road a complete no-go area for anyone not quite agile enough to walk around them in the middle of the road (like my recent neighbour Mrs B., whose arthritis left her walking very slowly and carefully on two sticks).
[1] Actually two, but the other was just the man come to read the electricity meters.
[2] It’s quicker than going to the entryphone. Especially when it’s kiddies who ring the doorbell then run off.
