Just the Job, Lad

by Mike Pannett

  Faced with me on one side and Walt on the other, the unruly bird was clearly confused. He stood still for a moment, flared his tailfeathers some more and then decided he might indeed be better off in the coop where a bowl of grain and a dish of water awaited his pleasure.

  ‘What was that all in aid of then?’ I asked Walt as he placed the kettle on the stove and slumped into his chair. ‘You aren’t going to tell me that landed on your pond, surely?’

  Walt tugged out a grubby handkerchief and mopped his face. ‘Why, I took it off my pal Gideon,’ he said. ‘Went and fetched it right after breakfast.’

  ‘Gideon? Him that had the pig that time? And you treated me to some of the bacon?’

  ‘Aye, that’s the fellow.’

  ‘I thought he was at death’s door. Had a hernia operation or something.’

  ‘Aye, he did. But remember that frozen rabbit we gave him? That did the job. Soon had him back on his feet. Fighting fit, he is. Aye, eighty-nine last birthday and he’s strutting about like a little bantam cock. It’ll tek more than a surgeon’s knife to see yon lad off, I’m telling you.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it, Walt. By, I still remember that bacon! Fantastic it was.’ The kettle was boiling and Walt was still drying the sweat off his neck. I got up and filled the pot. ‘So he raises birds too, does he, your mate Gideon?’

  ‘Aye, he breeds a few gobblers, like; reckons to fatten one or two, Christmas time, only this year he’s a bit of a surplus.’ Walt rolled up his trousers, exposing a couple of long red scratches on either leg. ‘You’d think he were breeding fighting cocks, t’way yon bugger carried on, mind.’

  ‘So’ – I jerked my thumb towards the back door – ‘that’s your Christmas dinner, is it?’

  ‘If he doesn’t mind his manners I’ll have him next Sunday, lad. Now then.’

  ‘You’ll have to be careful how much you feed him.’

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘Trust me, Walter. I know what I’m talking about. My dad had a turkey one year and we kids were always feeding it scraps off the table – especially all that pork fat we were supposed to eat up. God, I hated that stuff. Anyway, in the end he grew so big we couldn’t fit him in the oven. Had to dismember him and cook him in bits.’

  Walt pointed at his trusty Rayburn. ‘Bags of room in that,’ he said. ‘Anyway, get that tea poured, will you? Before my throat gets too dry for talking.’

  Chapter 10

  Par for the Course

  ‘I tell you what, Jayne.’

  She was sitting opposite me in the parade room, dunking the last Hobnob in her tea. We’d come in from town for a quick brew, it was now getting on for one o’clock, and I’d hardly had two words out of her.

  ‘Yeah? What?’

  ‘Now, don’t be all grumpy. Just because you’re working with me and not young Fordy.’

  ‘Who says I wanna work with him?’

  ‘Well, you seem very quiet and out of sorts, that’s all.’

  ‘Just got a lot on my mind, Mike. Work, exams. You know. Besides . . .’ She popped the biscuit in her mouth and closed her eyes.

  ‘Go on. Besides what?’

  ‘I’m seeing someone.’

  ‘Oh. Copper, is he?’

  She opened her eyes, stopped chewing and looked at me. ‘Who said it’s a he?’

  ‘Oh. Well. Sorry, like . . .’

  She gave a little laugh. ‘Relax, it’s a bloke. Lives down south. Teacher.’

  ‘Right, so how are you coping with a long-distance romance and shift work? Can’t be easy.’

  ‘You can say that again. It’s a sight easier during the school holidays. But other times it’s really tough. I mean, he’s off every weekend and I’m working more often than not.’

  ‘Sounds as if it would be easier if you got a place together.’

  ‘Steady on, Mike. I’ve only known him a few months.’ She reached forward, checked the biscuit packet, then tossed it into the wastepaper basket. ‘Mind you, I was saying to him the other night, I quite fancy a crack at the Met. What’s it like?’

  ‘That’s not an easy one. I was only young when I went down – well, like yourself, I suppose – and straight out of Hendon. Let’s say it was a shock to my system, young lad straight from rural North Yorkshire and all that; but I tell you what, I loved it. Absolutely loved it.’

  ‘So why did you come back up here?’

  ‘All sorts of reasons. Mostly, though, I’d had enough of living in the big city. But I tell you what, it was great at the time. Really exciting. And fun too. I’m glad I did it. In the end, Jayne, it all comes down to what you want out of life – that and where you want to live.’

  ‘I s’pose so. Anyway’ – she looked at the clock – ‘what were you going to say just now? When you said “Tell you what”?’

  ‘Oh, that.’ I picked up my mug and sipped at the strong, dark brew. ‘I was gonna congratulate you, cheer you up. You looked so miserable. Thought maybe someone had died.’

  ‘No, what’s getting me down more than anything right now is all this studying for the sergeant’s exam. I hardly ever get out. It’s all learn, learn, learn. Couldn’t get to sleep yesterday. I’d swear I could hear me brain creaking under the strain. Anyway, about cheering me up . . . I didn’t mean to stop you.’

  ‘Ah.’ I refilled my mug from the pot of tea and took a little sip. ‘I was just going to say, as far as I’m concerned you’re halfway there. You, Jayne, have mastered just about the most important skill for a beat bobby – and a duty sergeant, for that matter.’

  ‘Do I wanna hear this?’

  ‘Course you do. This is the ultimate accolade, and it comes from one who knows what he’s talking about, a Yorkshireman, born and bred. You have finally learned how to mash a decent pot of tea – and it’s only taken you three years. No, don’t go pulling a face. I’m telling you, there’s fellows in this station – and you know I’m not one to name names – fellows who’ve got ten and fifteen years’ service in, whose tea is not fit to drink.’

  ‘That a fact?’

  ‘It is,’ I said. ‘But yours – it’s coming on.’ I took another sip and sighed gratefully. ‘Yep, it’s definitely coming on.’

  ‘Well, thanks Mike. That’s going to be a real comfort to me when I open that exam paper in a few months’ time. I mean, it’s all right for you, innit? You’ve got Ann there to spoonfeed you. Any problem, anything you don’t understand, you just ask her.’

  ‘When I see her, sure. But we’re hardly ever off together. No’ – I drained my mug, stretched my arms and stood up – ‘once we get in that exam room, it’s a level playing field. You’re on your own, and so am I. C’mon, sup up.’

  A few minutes later we were on our way through Norton, out towards the bypass. Jayne was driving. She’d got me thinking – and for once she wasn’t interrupting my thought processes with her non-stop banter. ‘I’ll tell you one big, big difference,’ I said. ‘Between being a copper up here and pounding a beat in London.’

  Jayne slowed down at the mini roundabout before accelerating towards the bacon factory. ‘Yeah?’ she said.

  ‘Well, take your average night shift. It’s not like this: steady away, beautiful countryside, rolling hills and driving for miles without seeing anybody. Not like this at all. There’s no proper empty spaces, and the thing that started to get me down was, it’s a city that never sleeps. There’s always something happening somewhere. People are always on the go – especially the criminals and vandals. You’ve got fights, robberies, domestics, break-ins, riots, suicides – you name it. Morning, noon and night. And complaints? Oh hell, don’t talk to me about complaints. You’d always got at least one of them outstanding. It’s a different job, really. Shall I tell you the worst part about working nights down there? By the time you finish your shift and you set off for home you’re smack bang into the morning rush hour. Up here, if you think about it – well, there is no rush hour really.’

  ‘Same in a lot of cities, I sup
pose,’ Jayne said. ‘But I’m not like you, am I? I mean, you’re a country boy, aren’t you?’

  ‘True. I’ll tell you another thing I’ve really come to value up here. The one other precious commodity we have. Time. Time to speak to people and investigate things properly. Down there you’re running around like a headless chicken. I suppose you could say we’re privileged. We have time to’ – I was searching for the right phrase – ‘time to give to people when they need it. That’s the difference. And I hope it continues.’

  ‘We don’t always have time.’

  ‘No, not always, I agree. You have your busy shifts, and we’ve fewer officers, and everything’s far more spread out so it takes you ten times longer to get anywhere. But down there – well, if I was you I’d ask to have a look around before I put in for a job. It’s manic. You have more cops, for sure, but far more calls. The sheer volume of incidents doesn’t give you time to get on the computer and dig into the background, for example. They want you back on the streets as soon as possible. You should see the background staff they have – all so that you can crack on and go to the next job.’

  We were out on the bypass now and Jayne had her foot down. She didn’t say anything, but she was taking it all in.

  ‘But make no mistake,’ I said, ‘if I was your age I’d be down there like a shot.’

  ‘Leaving the way clear for old lags like you to grab the first vacancy that comes up. For a sergeant, I mean.’

  ‘Well, that’s the other thing Jayne. If you want promotion, there’s far more opportunity in a bigger force. From what I can see, to get promoted in North Yorkshire it’s not what you know, it’s who you know. It’s costing me a fortune.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, the superintendent has a very expensive taste in whisky, let me tell you.’

  ‘Oh my God Mike, really?’

  ‘Don’t be daft. Jayne. This isn’t the 1980s.’ I laughed. ‘By heck, you bite every time, don’t you?’

  She drove in silence for a mile or two, then said, ‘Where we going, anyway?’

  ‘Thought we’d just fly the flag around my patch, if that’s OK. Tell you what, let’s go across the tops to see if we can spot any poachers, then we can drop down Staxton way and call in at the all-night petrol station.’

  We took a little detour through Wintringham and over the top to Helperthorpe before cutting back through Butterwick and down to Ganton, but all we saw was a couple of deer, leaping across the road and into the woods. When we got to the petrol station we learned that my mate Jack was on holiday, and the lad who was standing in for him seemed more interested in texting his girlfriend than speaking to us. So we made it a short call, bought a couple of coffees and chocolate bars, and left him to it.

  ‘Gonna be a long old shift,’ I said. ‘Seems really quiet.’

  Jayne was back in the car, which she’d parked to one side of the forecourt, next door to the Little Chef, which was in darkness. I was outside, having a quick smoke and changing my radio to the Scarborough channel. We were right on the border and it meant that between us we could monitor both channels and see what was going on in the neighbouring areas. It was a good place to sit up, right on the crime corridor, as the boss liked to call it, and pretty much out of sight from the road.

  ‘When you gonna give that up?’ Jayne didn’t approve of smoking.

  ‘After the exam,’ I said.

  She laughed. ‘Right. It was gonna be after Christmas, last I heard.’

  ‘You know what it is,’ I said, ‘it’s boredom as much as owt else. On a busy shift you hardly ever see me light up.’

  She yawned. ‘Glad I never started.’

  ‘Lucky, you mean.’

  I got back into the car and we sat there finishing our coffee and chatting, keeping one eye on the road. There was very little passing traffic and we were just trying to make up our minds where to patrol next when the Scarborough radio came on.

  ‘Can I have a unit to deal. The alarm’s just gone off at Filey Golf Club.’

  ‘Eh oop, this could be interesting,’ I said. Filey was outside of our patch, of course, but given our location, right at the top of our ground, we weren’t a million miles away. A Filey car responded immediately, and a traffic car offered to back them up.

  ‘Didn’t we have a briefing about break-ins at golf clubs?’ Jayne said.

  ‘We did. Easingwold, Ganton and I think it was Kirkbymoorside. They’ve all been hit the last few weeks.’ I leaned forward and turned up the volume.

  ‘Control, we’re just arriving at the golf course now. Stand by . . .’ Above the hiss and crackle of the radio we could hear the car door slam as he got out to investigate. A few minutes later he shouted, ‘Control, active message, we’ve got forced entry at the rear fire escape. Have we got a dog unit on the way? And ETA for the backup please? There is no sign of any vehicles in the vicinity.’

  ‘Hey Jayne, what’s the odds this is the lot we’ve been hearing about?’

  ‘Yeah, ’cept they’ll be away and gone by now.’

  ‘Oh, they’ll be away all right, but where to? That’s the question. You think about it. I mean, how many routes are there out of Filey?’

  ‘Bit of a long shot to think they’d come our way though. And they could be on foot of course.’

  ‘I dunno. Let’s have a look at my maps, I’m sure I’ve got one that covers Filey area.’ I tried to open the Ordnance Survey map, but with Jayne sitting beside me I was struggling for room. I got out and spread the map out on the bonnet, while Jayne shone her torch on it.

  ‘Hmm,’ I said, ‘looks like there’s several ways they could get away.’ I started to fold the map up. ‘Still, we might as well sit up here for a bit; it’s as good a spot as anywhere.’

  Before I’d even got the car door open, we heard the high-pitched sound of a car doing almost maximum revs – and it was coming our way.

  ‘They’re bloody travelling,’ Jayne said.

  As we looked at each other across the roof of our car we heard a screeching of tyres at the roundabout, and saw the sweep of headlights across the sky.

  In an instant we were both in the car, watching the road. ‘Right, Jayne, if it’s them we need to be sharp. Doesn’t sound like they’re hanging about!’

  An oldish VW Passat shot past us, heading towards Malton. Inside it we could see three young-looking lads, who seemed to be wearing identical light-coloured woolly hats.

  ‘They look well dodgy. Let’s get after ’em!’

  Jayne had us out of our spot and onto the road, blue lights on, foot to the floor. I got on to the radio. ‘1015 to control, active message.’

  ‘1015, go ahead.’

  ‘Yes, we’ve been monitoring Scarborough channel. Are you aware of this break-in at the golf course?’

  ‘That’s a yes, over.’

  ‘Right, we are behind a VW Passat, three up, travelling at speed A64 westbound towards Staxton. It’s come from Filey direction, so a strong chance this could be them.’

  ‘1015, all received. Any units to back up?’

  I heard the Scarborough traffic car shout up that he was leaving Filey. Then Chris Cocks came on to say he was making his way from Malton along with a Ryedale traffic car.

  The lads in the VW knew we were after them OK. As we went over a bump and our lights hit their rear window we could plainly see the youth in the rear seat glancing back over his shoulder, and the puff of burning oil as the driver stepped on the gas.

  ‘They’re getting a tune out of that old banger,’ Jayne muttered, dropping down a gear to crank the Focus up towards eighty.

  ‘1015 to control, vehicle still westbound, speed approximately seventy-five miles per hour, index mark of VW is . . .’

  ‘Received.’ We’d barely gone half a mile when control was back on. ‘1015, vehicle reported lost or stolen from the York area earlier today.’

  ‘All received.’

  ‘I tell you what Jayne,’ I continued, ‘this has got to be
them. Told you I felt lucky tonight.’

  ‘No you didn’t.’

  ‘Well I meant to. They stopping or what?’ We were at Staxton and they’d slowed right down. Jayne braked hard, then swore as they shot ahead, straight through the red light.

  ‘Not total idiots then, at least they slowed down,’ I said. ‘Yeah, control from 1015, suspect vehicle just gone through Staxton lights at red.’

  ‘They’re pushing that thing to the limit.’

  ‘Don’t get sucked in. Just keep your distance a bit. This your first pursuit?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Well let me tell you I’m a bad passenger – but you’re doing OK.’

  The Passat was back up to seventy, seventy-five, eighty, clipping the verge on the left-hand bends, cutting across to the oncoming lane for the right-handers. Jayne was leaning forward in her seat, her knuckles white on the wheel.

  ‘You enjoying this?’ I said.

  ‘You what? I’m absolutely bloody terrified. But it’s one hell of a buzz.’

  I wanted to say ‘me too’, but I held it back. She was having a tough time. ‘Watch the adverse camber here,’ I said. I knew this road like the back of my hands, so I was able to pitch in to warn her.

  ‘Control to 1015, over.’

  ‘Yeah, go ahead over.’

  ‘We’ve a car ahead of you in Rillington ready to deploy a stinger.’

  ‘Received. That’s a good spot for a stinger, Jayne. They’ll have to slow down for the bend before the lights, and there’s the metal railings to protect the officer deploying.’

  In front of us the Passat seemed to be hesitating slightly at every little lane we passed. ‘Let’s just hope they don’t turn up the hill,’ I said.

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘I don’t want a repeat of what me and Thommo had that time.’

  Jayne laughed. ‘Was that when they rolled a caravan down the hill onto you?’

  ‘Never mind you laughing, you just concentrate girl.’