An Oik's Progress

by Steve Eastwood

  To Doris’s great surprise and disappointment Benny gave her one month’s notice but he vacated immediately, having paid her in advance. He never spoke to Eleanor again and although he never told her his reason for leaving he was sure that she would manage to make an educated guess. Mercifully Benny would manage to avoid her and Doris, for the immediate future.

  Soon after moving from Doris’s guest house Benny was given the opportunity to attend a Police Driving Course as a last minute replacement for another officer from his own Shift, who had suffered a bereavement. This would be five weeks spent at Police Headquarters and on most days it would entail his driving under tuition around East Anglia. This opportunity could not have arisen at a better time as it enabled him to clear his mind.

  On completion of the course and having been successful he was qualified to drive Panda cars. This would definitely allow him to broaden his scope. But he nearly didn’t pass the course at all.

  The format of the course was comprised of basic vehicle mechanics, negotiating the skid pan and driving under the tutelage of a driving instructor. Almost to a man they were constables drawn from the Traffic Department performing the temporary rank of Acting Sergeant. There were several cars on the course each with an instructor and three students who would each take turns to drive for half an hour.

  Benny was getting on well with his regular instructor Peter Montgomery but in the third week, Peter was ill and he was replaced by John Hardcastle, a bluff Yorkshireman. This man had a very annoying habit. If the pupil driver made a hash of a gear change he would smack them over the knuckles with a metal ruler.

  During the afternoon of their first day together Benny was taking his turn at the wheel and they were driving through the wilds of Cambridgeshire. He had already received a rap across the knuckles during the morning session which apart from being painful was humiliating. Benny was still seething. They were adults, for Christ’s sake!

  Benny, on approaching a sweeping bend in the road attempted to take a lower gear by double-declutching, but he cocked it up. Out came the ruler which was smartly laid across his knuckles. Benny pulled over at the first chance he got. He switched off the engine and turned to John Hardcastle.‘Get out of the car. I want to talk to you!’ Hardcastle and Benny got out of the vehicle and both doors were shut. The other two constables were left sitting in the rear of the vehicle, their noses pressed against the window. Benny walked around to Hardcastle’s side of the car and he grabbed him by the throat lifting him off of his feet and onto his toes. ‘Now you listen to me you ignorant prat! Rapping us across the knuckles with a metal ruler is an assault and if you do that to me again I will fucking chin you! Do you understand me?’ Hardcastle nodded and Benny released his grip.

  They got back into the car and continued. The others were flabbergasted and said nothing. The rest of the day went off without incident and in relative silence. Benny half expected to be hauled across the coals but nothing was said. The next day they had a change of instructor.

  Chapter 12 – Moving experience.

  As the weeks passed, and with his driving ticket under his belt, Benny found that he was starting to move up the pecking order on the Shift as other officers joined from training school. This new influx of recruits included a young product of the force cadet school, WPc Jenny May. She was 19 years of age, blonde and beautiful with a great body, an off-the-wall sense of humour and a rather flirty manner to go with it. She reminded Benny of a young Honor Blackman.

  Not long after Jenny had joined the Shift she was crewed with Benny in a Panda car when late one summer’s afternoon they were dispatched to James Road on the outskirts of the town. The road was mainly comprised of retirement bungalows. They were met outside the address by Mr Graham Watson the son of the elderly lady occupant, Gladys, who lived alone. Mr Watson was very distressed and he explained that he and his family had just returned from a two week holiday abroad. He held a key to the bungalow and on their return he had made it is his first duty to call on his mother to check on her welfare. He had tried to use the key on the front door but he had failed to gain entry and it appeared to be bolted from inside. He tried to raise her by ringing the front door bell and also by calling her by telephone from a nearby kiosk. He had then looked through the front window and had seen his mother sitting on the other side of the living room in her armchair, apparently asleep.

  Benny and Jenny inspected the bungalow for possible entry points and they decided on entering via the living room window which they were able to force open with a large screwdriver they had found in the garden shed. They explained what they intended to do and gained the consent of Mr Watson to force an entry to the bungalow. They also advised him to return to his car whilst they investigated further.

  ‘I’ll go in,’ said Jenny.

  ‘Are you sure that you want to?’ said Benny, conscious of the probability that Jenny had never seen a dead body before.

  ‘Yeah, of course, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Anyway I’m younger and fitter than you’

  Ever the gentleman, Benny let her go in first. He could see from his position outside the window that the room was dark due to the heavy curtains. As soon as they managed to force the window open they were hit by an overwhelming stench. But Jenny clambered across the ledge and through into the room.

  ‘I think she’s Ok Benny. I can see her moving. You alright Mrs Watson? It’s the Police.’

  ‘Aaargh! Oh my god!’

  Benny quickly got through the window in time to see Jenny run through to the kitchen where she unbolted the back door and threw it open. Benny drew back the curtains and the room was bathed in daylight.

  Mrs Watson was moving alright. She had obviously been dead for a few days and the Bluebottles had done their worst. She was covered in maggots and they were writhing around various parts of her bloated body.

  Benny was then immediately concerned for Mr Watson and certainly did not want his last memory of his mother to be that of the body that lay in front of them. So he rushed outside to the front garden and he just managed to intercept him as he was approaching the bungalow. He directed Mr Watson to the Panda car and confirmed what the poor man had already suspected. Mr Watson was grief stricken but when he had composed himself he said, ‘We asked mum to come on holiday with us, but she wouldn’t. She just wanted to stay in her bungalow.’ He blamed himself for not insisting but she was a stubborn old thing. He knew that.

  Mr Watson’s wife was summoned to comfort him and they remained outside until his mother was taken away by the undertakers. There were no signs of foul play and the Post Mortem showed that Mrs Watson had died of a heart attack.

  Benny checked on his colleague. She had been a bit shaken up at first but she insisted that she was now fine. He liked her. This girl had guts! Furthermore, whether it was due to luck or judgement, she came across as tactful in what was a sensitive situation.

  This was in contrast to Daphne, a female officer of several years’ service, who had attended a sudden death. It was again a sad but straight forward case where the man of the house had passed away in his sleep having been ill for some time. The Undertakers were in the process of removing his body from the bedroom.

  Daphne was comforting the man’s daughter in the kitchen of the house and she asked her ‘Do you smoke?’

  ‘Yes dear.’ Came the reply.

  ‘Shall we have one?’ said Daphne.

  ‘Yes, let’s. I think I need one’ said the lady who then reached onto the gas cooker and grabbed a pack of Swan vesta matches.

  Daphne reached into her handbag and on retrieving a packet of No6 handed the daughter a cigarette. The lady struck a match and they both lit up. She then put the spent matchstick in the packet.

  ‘Oh,’ said Daphne. ‘I see you’re another one who puts the dead ones back in the box!’

  Chapter 13 – Chinese whispers.

  One Tuesday, when Benny was on a night shift, he was patrolling the Seafront in a Panda car. The shift had not starte
d well due to the fact that when he had unlocked his allocated vehicle he found that the floor was strewn with food wrappers and the mileage book hadn’t been completed by the previous occupant. He would be having words.

  There wasn’t much happening and Benny was mulling over the fact that this vehicle was a complete crock of shit. Soon after coming on duty he had been alerted to a stolen Mark 1 Cortina that had been spotted doing the joyride circuit around the town one-way system. Benny had tried to intercept it and he was able to give chase for a short distance. But the more powerful Cortina had left the Police Mini far behind as it disappeared off into the distance.

  The force had supplied Morris Minis as general patrol cars and these were wholly unfit for purpose. In fact they were bloody embarrassing. Most of the officers were 5 feet 10 inches plus in height. One or two on the Division were 6 feet 5 inches tall. How were they supposed to fit into these things? In fact when they were first introduced officers were expected to wear their caps inside the vehicle at all times. That idea had soon fallen by the wayside.

  The force had obviously been trying to cut back on the Procurement budget and had not thought through the practical limitations of such “Noddy” cars. Benny, whose mentality usually leaned towards cynicism, told himself that some deskbound prat of a Chief Inspector had probably made the rank of Superintendent on the back of the savings to the vehicle fleet.

  Benny’s head touched the roof lining even without his cap on. He’d pushed the seat back and had lowered it as far as it would go. He had on one occasion tried to exit the vehicle quickly but such was the nature of his ascent that he had become dizzy, due to blood pressure, and had been forced to grip the roof of the car.

  About 12.30am Benny had just emerged from the Station and he decided to drive along the Upper Promenade which led onto the Seafront. He went along for a while and then parked off road next to some traffic lights at Pier Gap. He was conscious that he was limited to 100 miles for the shift which could be used up in only a few hours of patrolling.

  As Benny sat in the car he recalled the legendary tale of a constable called Sean O’Callaghan, who had left the Division before his arrival. Apparently Sean had also been on night duty and one night he had been sitting in the self-same parking spot when he saw a large Bentley shoot the lights which were at red. Sean had decided to stop the offending vehicle so, after easing safely through the lights, he gave chase along the seafront. He managed to stop it after about half a mile.

  The story went that Sean had got out of his mini, donned his cap and walked to the driver’s door. He tapped on the window which then came down. He saw that the driver was a middle aged Chinese gentleman who was looking up at him with a questioning look on his face. But the driver said nothing.

  Sean ‘Do you speak English?’

  The driver still said nothing so Sean made the assumption that he couldn’t understand him. Sean pointed back towards the traffic lights.

  ‘Red light, Red light!’ said Sean, vehemently.

  Sean then wagged his finger at the Chinaman. ‘When Red light showee. You no goee!’

  ‘Yes thank you for your advice officer.’ said the driver with a cut glass accent.

  ‘I am a member of the Bar and I know the law well enough but there were no other vehicles on the road at this time of the morning so I took a risk. I apologise for that. But your Race relations leave much to be desired young man and I shall be writing to your Chief Constable.’

  Ironically, Sean might have let the man off with a warning but now he felt compelled to report him for the traffic violation. A couple of weeks later Sean received suitable “Words of advice” from Mr Short.

  Benny chuckled to himself, as he recalled the tale, while he sat and watched the road. The town seemed deserted. There were normally very few people about at this time of the morning. Other than at weekends, things usually went dead on the streets between 1am and 3am until the Grimsby Fish Lorry came into town, then Menzies the Newspaper people and another hour or two would see the London commuters heading for the Railway Station. He wondered how people made the daily commute of 1 hour 30 minutes to Liverpool Street and having worked a full day manage the same return journey in the evening. He could well understand why many of them were pissed when they arrived back as they had sought solace in the Buffet car.

  After a short while Benny saw a Rover 2000 which was moving at a slow pace towards him. He gained the impression that the driver was trying too hard to drive in a composed fashion so he pulled it over. The driver opened his door and he almost fell out onto the road. Benny recognised the driver as Len Gibbs, the licensee of the Queens Head.

  ‘Hello Len, everything alright?’

  ‘Yes I’ve been to an LVA do officer. I’m Chairman of the Licensed Vitoollers sociation, you know.’

  ‘Looks like you’ve had a few too many drinks to drive. Give me the keys please.’

  Len complied and he got out of the car. He was trying to steady himself but he was failing badly.

  ‘I can’t let you drive any further so you will have to leave the car here Len. Is there anything of value inside it?’

  ‘No, no.’

  Benny could see that the Rover was reasonably parked and secure and as there was nobody else around who might have been affected, Benny, being a pragmatist, was going to take a chance and not breathalyse the man. He was also conscious of the fact that if he did arrest Len he would be confined to the station for the rest of the night doing the paperwork.

  ‘Come over to my vehicle please.’ Len staggered across the road behind him. Benny managed to ease him into the Mini. He drove Len back home to the Queens Head and he gave him the gipsy’s warning on the way. Len nodded and dribbled.

  They woke up Mrs Len, who was not best pleased. Benny had a quiet word with her and after she had made a search of the flat she gave him the spare keys to the Rover. He certainly did not want a drunk returning to the car before he had sobered up and killing someone on the way home.

  He then left with Len swearing undying love to Benny who, apparently, was a “Diamond Geezer” a ”Lovely man.”

  Len woke up around lunchtime with a dreadful hangover and after piecing together the sequence of events of the previous night he realised that he had been a very lucky man indeed.

  As for Benny, he knew that he had taken a major risk but he felt quite good about it in a benign sort of way.

  That night Benny dropped the keys off at the back door of the pub after closing time. Apparently Len was out and about again. He got a big hug from Mrs Len or Kathy Bailey, who was in fact Len’s common law wife. Benny then continued his night shift.

  Chapter 14 – 50/50.

  On another week of nights Benny was called to attend a Domestic Dispute. But this was one with a difference. The incident, which was reported by concerned neighbours, involved the fire service who had been called to deal with a large bonfire which was ablaze on the lawn outside the front of their row of terraced houses. This was on the infamous Greenwood Estate which at one time had the dubious honour of being the largest Council Estate in Europe.

  Number 27 Hickory Avenue was the address occupied by Vic Saunders and Mandy Groves who were well known to the local Police as they had been called to several domestic incidents at the house over the years.

  Benny was crewed with Jenny Freeman on this particular night and they arrived on scene around 10.30pm to find that the Fire Service had extinguished the fire and were just damping down. They were met by the Leading Fire Officer who filled them in on events as far as he understood them. They then turned their attention to Mandy Groves who was watching events from a seated position on the front garden wall. She was a large lady of around 40 years of age. Mandy had obviously been very attractive in her younger days but the years had not been kind to her.

  She was known to Jenny Freeman who had dealt with her before.

  ‘Are you OK Mandy?’ said Jenny.

  ‘Yeah I’m OK. Thank God the kids are at my mother’s tonight. H
e’s really gone mental this time.’

  ‘Why was that then?’

  ‘I chucked him out a couple of days ago. Things have got really bad between us lately and to be honest, I’ve found somebody else. Vic doesn’t know that, but he suspects that I’m seeing one of the blokes at the club. Anyway, I told him that I want to split up and be on my own and that he should go and live somewhere else.’

  ‘How did he take that?’

  ‘He went spare but luckily my friend Frankie was at ours at the time so when he started to cut up rough we were able to get him out of the house. He phoned me later when he was pissed and he seemed to have accepted the situation but then he started talking about what is his and what is ours and that he is entitled to half of everything. Then he got nasty so I put the phone down on him.’

  ‘How old are the children?’

  ‘Siobhan is 9 and Jack is 10. They are fine with my mum for now. They are not Vic’s kids anyway, thank God.’

  ‘What happened tonight then?’

  ‘Frankie and I went out to the club for a while and when we got back Vic was in the house. He was building the bonfire with bits of furniture and it was already alight. I started dragging things off then he got nasty.’

  Mandy pointed to the front lawn and said, ‘He had that fucking thing with him and he was waving it about. How he didn’t take my head off with it I’ll never know.’

  Benny looked across to the lawn and saw a large sinister looking chain saw which was lying on the grass bathed in the light that was shining through the window of the front room.