Scooters Yard

by Clive Mullis

  Diffin screwed up his brow. ‘Changed? What do you need to get changed for?’ He had no complaints with what she already wore: tight trousers, a shirt where the buttons were a little strained in a particular place and a loose jacket. Married he may be, but that certainly didn’t stop him from having the occasional look.

  ‘I have to look the part, impressions count. I won’t be long.’

  She picked up her bag and disappeared upstairs where the new recruits were to stay while they underwent training: the new dormitory being the only part of the watch-house devoid of prying eyes. A short while later, she descended the stairs and walked back into the office.

  Diffin had his back to her as he pinned some training procedures up on the notice board. ‘This is for the constables doing the training,’ he said, thumping a pin in with the palm of his hand. ‘They’ll need to know what to teach and when. If it was lef—’ He turned around at that point and felt his brain scramble as the synapses snapped.

  Rose stood there, wearing a uniform; a uniform which had three stripes on the sleeves — a sergeant’s uniform.

  ‘Don’t look so shocked, Toby. I’m one of you now — officially.’

  Diffin closed his mouth and shook his head in bewilderment. ‘When? How?’

  Rose pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Well, Jethro swore me in last night, just after midnight, so that I could be the first female constable in the force. A couple of minutes later he decided to promote me to sergeant. He broached the subject last week and I agreed. I had the uniform made so that there wouldn’t be a rush, but I didn’t know he intended to promote me. I had to sew on the stripes last night. You do like it, don’t you?’

  ‘Um, well, er, yes.’

  Rose liked her clothes closely fitted, and in this, she didn’t disappoint. The hat, the only difference between the men’s uniform and the one she now wore, being a little smaller with the brim curved up at the back and sides. She’d pinned up her normally long cascading honey-coloured hair neatly to the nape of her slender neck and Diffin wondered how the new recruits were going to measure up; he hoped for the sake of the men in the force that none of them managed to.

  ‘They should all start to arrive soon,’ said Rose. ‘When are your instructors meant to get here?’

  ‘Anytime now,’ replied Diffin. He checked his watch and began to pace. ‘Anytime now,’ he repeated quietly, almost to himself. He stopped pacing. ‘Can you hear something?’ he asked, trying to focus his ears.

  Rose listened. ‘There’s a bit of noise, but how normal is that around these parts.’

  Diffin shrugged. ‘Rush hour I suppose,’ he conceded, and then pushed the thought from his mind.

  A few minutes later, the two constables arrived; they piled through the front door and slammed it shut behind them. Both were the wrong side of forty and both were happily married. Together with Diffin, they had helped train some male recruits, but now they were to take on a new challenge. Constables Briggs and Spooner panted as they tentatively re-opened the door a crack and peered out. They hadn’t expected something like this.

  Diffin breathed a sigh of relief and walked out of the office. ‘About bloody time,’ he barked to the two instructors. ‘I expected you to be here earlier.’ A puzzled look crossed his face. ‘What are you doing?’

  Briggs briefly turned away from the door-crack. ‘You mean you ain’t seen outside, Sarge?’

  Diffin shook his head. ‘No, I’ve been in the office with Miss Morant.’

  ‘Well, I reckon you’d better ‘ave a look now, then.’

  Diffin strode over and elbowed the two feelers aside. ‘What are you on about?’ He wrenched open the door and then stood transfixed, staring off into the distance with a look a bit like the cat that had cornered its mouse and then found it had a double-barrelled crossbow shoved up its whiskers. He couldn’t quite believe it.

  The street leading up to the Police Academy rapidly filled up with people. Lining the sides of the street were placard waving, banner holding, slogan chanting women. He’d heard it, but it hadn’t registered in his mind what he heard. That was the problem of being incarcerated in a small office with Rose Morant, she sort of dragged your attention away from anything else; you couldn’t help it, especially when a police uniform took on that kind of dimension.

  ‘Oh gods, will you look at that.’

  There were scores of them, and more were joining the throng with each passing second.

  ‘We’re going to need some help,’ opined Diffin, calmly. ‘Briggs. Upstairs and send a pigeon to the Yard. Tell the commander that hundreds of women are lining the street and we need officers to help control them.’

  Briggs turned, stopped and stared at Rose as she walked up to the door. Spooner turned too and it took a while for them to register that they looked at a girl wearing a policeman’s uniform.

  Rose smiled.

  ‘Briggs,’ yelled Diffin.

  ‘Yes, Sarge.’ He shook off the disbelief and ran upstairs to the pigeon loft.

  Rose poked her nose through the door. ‘I don’t think you need to worry too much, Toby. I expect they’re here to witness the making of history. They won’t cause any trouble, I’m sure.’

  ‘Can’t take the risk, Rose. Look at them.’

  Rose looked again. She had to concede that one or two of them did look a little mean. A few men were now adding to the throng, but the majority appeared happy that women were now joining the force.

  ‘Whiff’s of trouble to me,’ added Diffin, almost as an aside.

  When Briggs got up to the roof, he barged through the door and hurried over to the pigeon coop. He then whipped out his pencil and notebook and scribbled quickly in tiny letters. When he’d written the message, he hurriedly rolled it up and stuffed it into the tiny little cylinder. There were five birds to pick from and he selected the one that looked a bit more intelligent than the rest. He reached in, grabbed the thing by the throat and dragged it out. Briggs tied the message to the leg of the pigeon and then turned around and threw the bird into the air. The pigeon flapped a bit and then quickly settled back down on the rim of the balustrade lining the roof. The pigeon cooed, then sort of shrugged, and then paced up and down as if waiting for something to happen.

  Briggs slapped his head with his hand. ‘Forgot to program the bloody thing,’ he mumbled, and then grabbed it around the throat again. He pulled it towards him until they were nose to beak and Briggs then grimaced. ‘The yard,’ he yelled into its face. ‘Or this truncheon will go somewhere a truncheon shouldn’t go, and then I’ll be having me a pigeon pie.’

  The pigeon’s beady little eyes regarded him for a few seconds and then it sort of gulped, blinked and cooed again. It wobbled its neck and finally appeared to nod. Briggs threw the bird up in the air once more, where it circled around the roof and then flew off — just after depositing something yucky on Briggs’ head.

  ‘Clean up that hat,’ ordered Diffin, when Briggs came back downstairs. ‘Look at the state of it.’

  Briggs whipped off his head attire and regarded the gooey mess. Spooner grinned from ear to ear at his friend’s misfortune — until Diffin noticed.

  ‘Keep your eye on that lot outside, Spooner.’

  ‘Yes, Sarge,’ returned Spooner smartly. He opened the door a bit and peered out while Briggs tried to rub the top of his hat clean with a rag. ‘Er… Sarge.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘How long do you think it will take the commander to get here?’

  ‘Why?’ asked Diffin, tentatively.

  ‘Because it ain’t just women now. There’s all sorts out there, including Dwarfs, Bears and Gorillas.’

  ‘Oh gods,’ groaned Diffin, wiping his head with his hand. ‘What are they doing here?’

  Rose smiled. ‘I told you, Toby. This is history in the making. Up until today, who held all the positions of power?’

  ‘Er… we did,’ he replied. ‘I mean men.’

  ‘And after today, you can say that some women h
old some positions of power — police power.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Don’t you see? This is the start, just the beginning. Gornstock will become an equal society. It won’t happen overnight, but in time, it will happen.’

  ‘You mean my wife will be able to vote?’

  Rose nodded.

  ‘Oh gods.’ Diffin’s face drained of colour. ‘You can’t be serious.’

  ‘Toby, you are full of surprises today, and some not very nice ones.’ She pouted and sniffed contemptuously. ‘Gornstock needs to be dragged into the modern age, kicking and screaming if it has to, but get there it must.’

  ‘The commander won’t agree with you. He’ll put a stop to it all.’

  ‘Jethro,’ answered Rose, ‘is well aware of what today means. Why do you think he allowed women into the force?’

  ‘Because… because…’ Diffin struggled to find the answer.

  ‘Because, Toby, he realises that in order to move forward, this is something that needs to be done. The minister agreed.’

  ‘The minister?’

  Rose smiled. ‘Yes, the minister. He knows that this is just the start. He even thinks the Assembly might look a little different in the future.’

  Diffin’s mind started turning somersaults. The Assembly was the seat of Government, the institution that ruled Gornstock. Only men could enter its hallowed halls and sit on its historic benches — the old Morris Council would go apoplectic.

  *

  Before the Assembly, the Morris Council ruled. The founders of Gornstock were ancient Morris Dancers who made their home on the banks of the River Sterkle. They elected a council to rule, and the council ruled for hundreds of years with an iron fist. They were evil malicious bastards, fond of the lash and even fonder of the noose. The gaols overflowed as they incarcerated citizen after citizen in the deep dark places. People could only dream of mercy, but the Morris didn’t like dreams either, working the inmates until death. Existence was the reality in Gornstock, with life just a hope that glimmered like an ember of a fire until some awkward bugger came along and poured a bucket of ice-cold water on top of it.

  People eventually said a collective “Excuse me, but this joke has gone on for long enough.” They revolted, and then they assassinated the council in the wee small hours one dark and stormy night — they had their bells whipped off and many a stick got shoved where the sun didn’t shine.

  Tradition, though, is a hard thing to eradicate, and the Morris as an entity survived, albeit in a more civilised manner.

  *

  Commander MacGillicudy marched through the streets with forty of his officers trailing in his wake. All of them trying to keep up with the fast pace he set, but only the young and the keen succeeded. The old hands began to feel the effects of the gentle strolls around their beats together with a twenty a day habit along with too many stops at the cake and bun stalls. Running after a felon was anathema to them; it would be far easier to pop around to the felon’s mum’s house later and slap the cuffs on there.

  The orderly line that had set off from Scooters Yard arrived at Pendon Police Academy in a ragged display of flotsam and jetsam. MacGillicudy, and those who managed to keep up, elbowed their way through the crowd to the front door. Those feelers unable to keep up took the opportunity to dive down an alley to call for Huey and Ruth and to catch their breath before engaging in any form of crowd control.

  MacGillicudy deployed his forces quickly, forcing the crowd away from the street and onto the pavements; fortunately, the thoroughfare was wide enough to incorporate the few hundred who were vying for position to see the new recruits arrive. The stragglers eventually turned up to bolster the forces and the commander could then take stock of the situation.

  Rose and Diffin poked their heads out of the door and then strode purposefully over to the commander. MacGillicudy regarded Rose and smiled as she came to stand next to him as the crowd looked on, shocked into silence — a woman, in front of them, already wearing a feelers' uniform!

  The mass of people were mesmerised for a few seconds and then they all started pointing at once. Rose felt a wash of pride run through her and she stood up straight and tall with her hands clasped behind her back.

  ‘I think they might have noticed, Jethro,’ she said quietly.

  ‘I think you may be right,’ returned MacGillicudy. ‘Let’s see what they’re going to do next.’

  They cheered next, a great tumble of noise washed down the street and rolled over Rose and MacGillicudy. The banners were pushed higher in the air and waggled furiously, one or two collapsing under the pressure, but the majority stayed firm and upright. A few boos began to filter through the cheers and the women nearest the dissenters decided to do something about it. Arguments broke out and a few punches were thrown, but as is normal when a fight begins, the feelers lining the street decided to wait and see who would come out on top before working out who to arrest.

  MacGillicudy cast his eyes down the street at the ruckus and pursed his lips. A sergeant had detached himself from his position and made a bee-line for the feelers who should be containing that part of the line. Words were obviously spoken and then two feelers dived in, now more scared of their sergeant than they were of the combatants.

  The police slowly restored order, and then the crowd settled back to cheering Rose once more. She continued to smile and then began to pace up and down outside the Academy.

  MacGillicudy and Diffin were keeping a close watch on the street, and when a one-horse cart came plodding slowly down towards them, they began to get worried, the driver looking nervously at the crowd. He wore a big wide-brimmed hat that hid his eyes while a neck scarf covered his mouth and nose from the dust and dirt. His clothes were old and ragged, just like the horse. MacGillicudy grabbed hold of the nearest feeler and spoke into his ear.

  ‘Get that bloody thing out of here before it gets spooked. Anywhere will do — and find out what the bloody hell he thinks he’s doing coming down here.’

  The feeler ran off, and a few seconds later the horse and cart ground to a halt with the feeler attached to the reins. The driver nodded his understanding and then emphasised his reply with a pointed finger. The feeler nodded, turned, and then ran back to MacGillicudy.

  ‘He says he ‘as a delivery for the watch-house, Commander.’

  ‘A delivery? I didn’t order anything.’ He turned his head towards Diffin. ‘Did you, Toby?’

  Diffin shook his head. ‘Not me, Commander. Can’t think who else would order something. Perhaps one of the sergeants back at the Yard.’

  ‘I suppose Wiggins could have,’ conceded MacGillicudy. ‘But he would have told me, I’m sure. No, must be a mistake.’ He turned back to the feeler. ‘We’ll sort it out later, but in the meantime, get him off the road until all this lot has cleared; and then stay with him to make sure he don’t try to get through again.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ replied the feeler, and then ran off again.

  MacGillicudy and Diffin watched as another animated conversation ensued, culminating in the feeler pulling the horse through the crowd and down into a side street. The driver remonstrated with the feeler, obviously not happy with the way things were turning out.

  Just then, the crowd livened up again and up at the top of the street came walking a few confused looking girls. Their heads swivelled on their necks, looking right and left at the massed waiting crowd and it took a few seconds before it sank in that the crowd had come for them — the female feelers had arrived for their training.

  The twelve girls walked down the street having followed Rose’s instruction to meet a little further up the road and to come the last few hundred yards en masse. They now huddled together and walked determinedly towards where Rose and the commander stood. Pride took hold and they stiffened their backs as they attempted to walk in step, encouraged by the cheering and the shouts of support. It didn’t quite turn out as expected though. The marching resembled an out of kilter clock. The tick ticked but then the t
ock tocked before the tick had finished ticking, so it sounded a bit like “ti-toc-ck-k, toc-ti-ck-k”, add to that a bit of grit getting into the mechanism with the cogs grinding against it, and it would give a good approximation of how the girls marched.

  Diffin decided to offer his opinion. ‘Not that good at marching, are they? Needs a bit more swagger.’

  MacGillicudy raised an eyebrow. ‘Toby, you didn’t see the mess that accompanied me just a while ago. At least the girls are keeping together and not puking up in the corner. I’m willing to bet that in a couple of weeks’ time these girls are going to put your boys to shame.’

  Diffin sniffed. ‘Possibly in a slow march, but double time? Have you ever seen a girl who could actually run?’

  ‘I’d keep your voice down a bit, Toby, if I were you; you’re forgetting who you’re standing next to.’

  Rose just smiled inwardly. Diffin and the rest of them were going to have one hell of a shock in a few weeks’ time.

  Buoyed by their attempt at conforming to what they believed was expected, and with an encouraging gesture from Rose, the girls continued to march right up to the welcoming committee.

  The commander wore a big wide grin as the girls shuffled to a halt in front of him. The crowd then grew silent as they anticipated the formal start of a new dawn in the history of Gornstock.

  MacGillicudy took stock of the situation and realised that he had to say something for the crowd to get their teeth into; a commander had to be as much a politician as a policeman in these sorts of circumstances. He cast his eyes around the throng and saw at least one man who appeared to be the recipient of a powerful headlock by a woman who must have been nearly six foot tall and close to weighing twenty stone. He decided he could ignore that, the woman seemed to have everything under control.