About a month ago I was arrested by our friendly local Police.
It went something like this.
7.50pm my mobile phone rings, I answer it. There is a very stroppy loud female police officer on the other end. She tells me that a complaint has been made that I have been harassing my former partner over a period of ten days in May, and that if I didn't present myself at a police station some 35 miles away the following day, then she would come and arrest me.
"But you don't know where I live", I say.
"We are the Police, I can find out quickly enough. You need to be here." she snaps back. "And if I have to come and get you it could be in the middle of the night or any time.|" Nice.
"I can't come tomorrow, I have an appointment for a scan for postate cancer at 5pm when you want me." That shut her up!.
So we agreed that I would come the day after at 10am where I would be seen by another officer, and I duly presented my quaking body at the local nick at the appointed time and date, where another copper arrested me on suspicion of having harrassed my former partner by e mail and phone calls. Before going there I took the precaution of consulting a solicitor who said he would come to the station after he had been to court that morning. I had also printed off the e mails between my ex and myself and made a long list of the nine texts and phone between me, four of her friends and herself. Not an incredibly long list. He read the e mails and then after about two minutes or so raised his bearded head from the table and said, "This is a load of bollocks".
"Is that a technical phrase you lawyers use in court?" I asked.
"Sometimes," he replied, "Particularly when the evidence is a load of bollocks". I felt I was getting onto firm ground here.
After being arrested by the duplicate police officer I was taken to the Custody Suite (posh name for a Charge Office) where the Constable explained to the female Charge Sergeant the reason for my arrest. The Sergeant, a tall blond of about forty years of age and gorgeous, listened to hiim, thought for a minute and then said, "Can I have a quick word with you in the back office please?" and the two of them disappeared for a few minutes.
When they reappeared the gorgeous blond said, "I think there is a better way to deal with this, I am not accepting the charge and would like you to come back here, of your own accord by appointment to see the officer who is actually dealing with the incident."
"Yes please," I replied. "Will you be here?"
"No" she said, "GO". I went.
So, yesterday I went back to the nick with my good friend the solicitor, this time feeling more confident than the first time.
I was shown into the Custody Suite again but gorgeous blond was not there, it was a man this time. He listened to what the officer said and then turned to me. "I am accepting this charge and I understand there is a search warrant being applied for as we speak to search your home for evidence of these offences."
I was gobsmacked, to say the least, in fact, my gob had never been so smacked. My solicitor trod on my toes heavily to stop my mouth from saying what he knew was forming in my mind. I kept silent, almost.
The bottom line was that my home was search and my netbook, three memory sticks and a neck tie were taken by two large officers.
I was released on bail to reappear at the nick in September, when my netbook would be returned unless they came to a decision about the case earlier, in which case I would be notified.
I came home fairly despondent. No that's not right. I was very severely pissed off. (Sorry for the language, but I was not a happy bunny).
An hour after I arrived home my mobile sounded off. I answered it, it was the noble bearded one.
"Just spoken to the police officer who arrested you. He has spoken to his boss, who has spoken to his boss beause none of them think there is a case to answer. The officer has spoken to your ex who says she does not want to prosecute me, just wants me to stop all this nonsense. So, I'll see you in the morning for the offical bits of paper to be written off. OK?"
I went there again this morning and got the whole thing cleared off in ten minutes. What a relief. And they gave me back my netbook the memory sticks and the tie. I asked why they had taken the neck tie, "It was offensive" said the officer.
No taste some people, just no taste.
The whole problem arose because I was trying ot get my personal belongings back from her house, the one she had stopped me going into. This has been going on for three months now! I ask you!
So now, I have to be a good boy and not harass her for the next six months. Believe me, nothing has ever been further from my mind. At the time of the split I was despondent, but after a couple of weeks realised I was better off without her, but not once could anyone have said I was harassing her. I was simply trying to get my stuff back from her.
Anyway, thank goodness, it is all over and I can get on with the rest of my life in peace.
Anyone for tennis?
