Police Memories

by Bill Williams

  The occasions when he had been “Naughty” and his Dad had taken off his belt and threatened Claude with the use of it. Claude smiled as he now recalled what he did in response to this. For days after the incident father was unable to find his belt and all searching and questions failed to find it so another was purchased. It was over 20 years later Claude now a serving police officer was in the area so called at home, in uniform, arriving to find the path along the side the house had been made wider. Once inside the house Harry had suddenly repeated the story of the lost belt then said to Claude, “Come with me.” Arriving outside on the garden fence was a rotted leather belt. “I dug up my old belt when doing the path; I wondered who buried it their officer?”

  Claude’s daydreaming was interrupted when he thought again of completing the original application form.

  “What is the form?” asked his father.

  “The police application form,” replied Claude, “I need to put in my height so I need a tape to measure if I am over five feet eight.”

  “I have no idea where the tape is,” replied his father, “You will have to wait until your mother comes back.”

  Claude realised his father did not know, for he did nothing around the house, if mother had travelled into Oswald’s Tree leaving Claude with his father they had nothing to eat or drink all day until she returned. The reply was also a message to Claude not to interfere and go rooting around.

  He took the message but was not stopped in his endeavours for he visited two aunts, sisters of his father who lived locally, finding they had no tape he arrived at the home of Aunty Polly. She was in fact not an aunt but a distant cousin of his father but a close friend of the family and Claude had been directed to refer to her as Aunty Polly. She came up with the goods and so Claude ran home in glee.

  With a struggle as father was now asleep in the chair, several attempts at measuring revealed the good news Claude’s was five feet ten and a half inches.

  Continuing to complete the form another question was, “Do you have normal eye sight without the aid of spectacles?”

  Amen thought Claude I don’t wear glasses like some of the more clever kids at school as wearing glasses was a bar to joining the police.

  “Any convictions,” reply, “No.”

  Claude in his ignorance thought of what was a close shave it had been, when aged about 10 years he had been cycling along the footpath near his home and whilst doing so a voice had called “Hey, what are you doing?”

  He had come to a sudden stop and on looking up saw a large pedal cycle stopped on the side of the road and Constable Upward, the village policeman standing by it, he proceeded to tear a strip off Claude for riding on the pavement, took his name and address in his black book and rode off.

  Claude recalled how he had lived in fear for some time in case PC Upward was to visit his home and the consequences such a visit would have. A visit to Court possibly, a good hiding from mother a certainty, fortunately it never happened.

  Two references were required and Claude contemplated whom to ask. His father awoke and came to the table seeing this question gave instant advice. Claude left the house immediately.

  His first port of call was Mr Bridge his Head Master from the junior school. Claude recalled how he always said in class when advising on good behaviour at school but also out of school hours.

  “When you leave school,” he had said “When you apply for a good job you will need a reference no one will ask me if you got ten out of ten but if you are honest, truthful and trustworthy.”

  He had, thought Claude been a good head he taught the senior class ten year olds. He was a disciplinarian and invoked the principle preached by other teachers, one a Welsh lady known as Miss Evans, who quoted when making use of connecting her flat hand with the back on one’s head or legs, or Mrs Wright, when rapping the ruler on ones knuckles at a speed so fast one could not see it connecting. “Spare the rod and spoil the child.”

  The Head was an ex military man who had seen action as a spotter for Artillery in the First World War. Mr Bridge had often told stories of his exploits during the conflict, his questions in the weekly tests would not be tolerated in the year 2015.

  It was common practice if one was late for school for offenders to be made to stand at the front of assembly when the morning hymn and prayers were sung and said.

  On occasions at the end of proceedings before dismissal Mr Bridge would leave for his classroom and return with his cane, then call out some boy to the front. It would then be related, “This boy has been cheeky or answered some adult back or similar, in the village.”

  “Hold out your hand,” were the next words he spoke.

  As the offender did so two strokes of the cane, which originated above his head were laid across the offenders open hand.

  A book was then produced and the offenders name endorsed within, most likely thought Claude his father being among previous offenders even more likely his namesake described as “Cowboy.”

  Claude recalled the occasion he himself had fallen foul. A girl who sat on a desk next to Claude had prominent teeth and Claude had called her “Goofy” causing her to cry. Justice was swift once she had told Mr. Bridge of the crime committed against her. He called Claude to the front of the class, opened the tall cupboard, retrieved the cane and promptly lay on with a will giving Claude two strokes, one on each hand. It had been a little counter productive for Claude’s hands had swollen and he had been unable to write for some hours. It was a lesson, for as writing this account proves, the incident and its consequences had remained with him.

  Notwithstanding these incidents Mr Bridge had, in Claude’s view been a good head and confirmed he would provide a reference.

  Claude’s next port of call was to see Mr Ronnie Gorton the leader of the Colliery band of which Harry Friendly was a member, the drummer in fact.

  A colliery worker and band leader were not the reasons Ronnie had been selected to be asked to provide a reference for Claude, rather because he was the Commander of the special police constables of the local police.

  Known to Claude and his father but also known to the local police chiefs. Mr Gorton had been previously been of some help to Claude discussing with him what life was like in the police force.

  Claude arrived home pleased that both persons approached had agreed to provide a reference for him and they had added the contents would be complimentary.

  The following day Margaret, Claude’s mother visited the post office posted the application form to the Police Headquarters at Copton. The whole family waited for any response.

  It was two weeks later; there came a knock on the front door of the Friendly home. Opening the door Margaret often later recalled how she was struck with an attack of heart palpitations, seeing the tall man in police uniform standing at the door. She invited him inside and he accepted a warm drink.

  Over the next half an hour he was a mind of questions not only of Claude but his parents, including their full names, Margaret’s maiden name, their dates of birth and details of their family background. It would be many years before Claude realised the necessity for such information. To carry checks with the New Scotland Yard Criminal Records Office to ascertain what it any convictions the family had.

  Enquiries completed the officer was leaving when Margaret noted the curtains of neighbours were moving and the odd face moving back upon the sight of them being seen. She was obliged to say, “We will be the talk of the place now the Police have been.”

  The neighbours were to get familiar with such a sight in the years to come.

  Margaret’s eldest brother Bill had joined the Police Force in London on leaving the armed forces in 1945. In later years two of his brothers had got into trouble, receiving convictions. When her younger brother George had attempted to follow his eldest brother into the Police, his application was rejected once his brother’s records came to light. It was therefore with baited breath that the Friendly family hoped the theft of the Swede by Harry�
�s` eldest brother some 40 years ago and the convictions of Margaret’s brother far away in Lancashire some twenty years ago would not prevent Claude from attaining his ambition.

  In the year 2012 thought Claude as he paused from writing his account the previous passage would seem incredible almost comical to the reader, things had changed so much.

  Three weeks of anxious waiting were ended when the letter arrived, it read.

  Dear Mr Friendly,

  Thank you for your interest in becoming a member of the Copton Police, to further your application would you please contact officers at Chester Police Station to make appointment to sit the entrance examination.

  Dan Price,

  Inspector,

  Training Office.

  Claude new the very Police Station which was located in the village of Chester, some three miles away. It was small, staffed by the area Sergeant and one Constable. They and their families lived on the premises, two police houses with an office between.

  Claude knew both officers, he recalled how the Sergeant Glyn Price was seemingly friendly with Chris the local shop keeper at Hafod for one often saw the officer, stripes and all serving behind the counter. This memory caused Claude to chuckle, as he was later to realise police discipline at that time would not have tolerated it.

  The Constable he knew from his police visits to the village of Hafod, presumably covering for Pc Upward on a day off.

  The officer was Pc Colton, at first he rode a cycle but later a motorcycle.

  Claude recalled how one Sunday he had been outside the village shop when Pc Colton arrived parking his motorcycle outside. All was well until he came to leave.

  As he did so one youth lit a firework, a banger and put it unseen into the pannier on the motorcycle. The officer had gone only a few yards when there was an explosion. He stopped the machine then walked back giving a rousting to those who still remained at the scene. It was a pointless exercise for the guilty had run off.

  It was a day or so later Claude was playing football in the “Back field” an unofficial play area near to houses known as “The Bullring” when he chanced to meet with his old school head boy Ryan Richards. In conversation Ryan had said he was hoping to join Copton Police in fact he had sat the examination only the day before.

  Claude, who had not been very bright in school and his educational ability far from matched his enthusiasm to become a police officer was to receive some help from Ryan and Claude always believed from on high. Ryan unknowing how helpful he was about to be, related the various questions he had been asked. Claude said nothing but when the couple parted he ran home and made furious notes in case he forgot, as he probably would have done. He then studied for some days the various subjects, questions and answers.

  Come the day he mounted his pedal cycle and rode the few miles to sit the examination. Arriving at Chester Police station he knocked on the door in fear that he would be recognised as one outside the shop that day the firework incident occurred. His fears were unfounded it was another officer who answered the door, one unknown to Claude. He was to learn later both previous Incumbent officers had been promoted and moved to other Police Stations within the force.

  The examination consisted of a paper on arithmetic, as it was then known, dictation to test the candidates spelling, it was short, consisting of the officer reading a prepared passage. There was also a General knowledge paper, questions such as who is the Home Secretary, what sport do they have at Cowes, a question he was able to answer thanks to his old head boy and an essay.

  The examination lasted about an hour, the papers gathered; the door opened no comment made, Claude found himself cycling home where he updated his anxious parents.

  Claude hesitated from his writing when a knock on the door caused him to call, “Yes who is it?”

  The door opened it was Charles the handyman, he pocked his head around the door and called

  “A note for you Mr Friendly,” he placed the same upon the table and was gone.

  “What now” thought Claude, his concentration lapsed, and he closed down his machine, stood then went over to the table and read the note.

  Dear Client,

  Matron Raving is very pleased to announce that tomorrow The Homestead will be graced with a visit from several support groups and dignitaries. Lunch will be a virtual feast and will be served in the main lounge area

  Eliza Jenkins

  Administrative Manager.

  Sounds very attractive he thought a virtual feast indeed. It was time for bed he thought and to fulfil his desire for sleep proved an easy task, he was soon changed and in his bed.

  The next he heard was a cleaning trolley being pushed along the corridor, he looked up and saw on the wall clock it was 7 40 am.

  “The first ever,” he muttered to himself, over-slept, nothing for it but to rise quickly move at lightening speed across the floor to the bathroom shave in quick time, dress and run down for breakfast.

  In reality he managed to pull himself up, turned with a moan as his stiff joints creaked. He then gently put one foot before the other reaching the bathroom, shaved, dressed and was ready in half an hour not as in his youth ten minutes.

  He consoled himself with the thought he had done it and in one piece. He tore off down stairs at the break next speed of placing one foot in front of another, stick in one hand and holding the safety bar with the other. Relieved as he turned the first corner to see Scouser Joe heading south at the same speed save that he was carrying his usual cargo, a book.

  Arriving at breakfast in the partly full dining room. Claude, stopped, hesitated and thought, “It was unusual there was no cutlery on the table, just cups, saucers and small plates.”

  All questions were about to be answered when Matron Raving arrived, stood to attention and called.

  “Clients, attention, please. I am proud to announce today a rare and special opportunity both for the prestige of The Homestead, its staff and of course you clients.

  Before she could continue Joe asked, as a Scouser would, “What about the residents in Stalag thirteen?”

  Matron looked furious, her eyes staring, her mouth tight, the scene was aggravated, when her blonde hair fell in front of her eyes causing her to shake her head to clear her face. As she did so, she struck a low hanging balloon, which had been hung to announce the 100 birthday of Miss Haynes the “Establishments” oldest resident.

  Matron Raving really was raving and without thinking pulled the balloon away and down, as she did so it caught on her name badge and burst, causing a deafening explosion. Chaos erupted as Miss Haynes burst into tears, simultaneously grasping and pushing inside her dress an envelope marked “Buckingham Palace,” in mortal fear Matron was anti royalist and the card from Her Majesty might well go the same way as the balloon bought for her by Sally.

  “Calm down will you? Please, all calm down?” Ordered Matron.

  “Good heavens, what is this establishment coming to?”

  She then made another slip of the tongue and turning to old Joe said.

  “You, Scouser, you are responsible for all this, I meant to include the Council fee payers of course, you are a troublemaker. Sally take his name,” as if she was still in the army.

  This made the situation worse for everyone including the staff began to laugh, the staff with hand in front of mouth of course.

  With that Matron turned and furiously left the room.

  Claude looked at Joe who simply shrugged his shoulders then opened his book pretending to read, Claude new he was foxing for he saw Joe peeping over the top of the book.

  Sally restored order and said, “Everyone please, what Matron was going to tell you, was, as per the note Charles delivered last evening we are shortly having free food delivered here so until then it will be drinks and biscuits only.”

  There was a loud cheer and clapping.

  It was 11 am when several large vans arrived at the front of The Homestead. The first vehicles to arrive were soon followed by a mini bus
and later two executive cars. The new arrivals from the vans and mini bus were dressed in very handsome uniforms and commenced to unload numerous boxes.

  The main lounge had been cleared, unknown to the arriving visitors many heads and eyes were peeping around doors and through windows.

  Similar Claude thought to those situations many years ago when he had visited Copton prison on one enquiry or another and the convicts had gathered at the windows and were banging their tins plates to indicate their disapproval of arriving police officers.

  At 12 noon the meal bell rang, the residents and clients were released.

  One might imagine the scene, a stampede of wheel chairs intermingling with sticks and walking frames as the smell of freshly cooked food and the sight of wondrous goodies registered in the minds of the aged folk, and most important of all, it was all going to be free of cost.

  There was a deafening sound of clashing wood against steel, frames against wheels all against doors and walls as the horde clamoured and jockeyed for position for fear their favourite goodie would be consumed before they had their fair share and a little more if possible.

  When all the residents and clients arrived in the lounge it had been transformed with several tables containing all manner of wonderful food.

  Once everyone, Clients and residents had assembled Matron arrived once again. On this occasion she was also escorted by Mr Danvers Denton from head Office and several ladies and gentlemen which, as they arrived Scouser Joe referred to them as “The suits.”

  She was attired in her best white starched uniform and sporting her nursing badge and some type of Military medal the details of which were unknown to any resident or staff, presumably exhibited to impress the dignitaries.