Lone Female

by Fenton, Clarissa

  A couple of minutes later and they'd cleaned themselves up and wriggled back into their clothes. I groped for my wallet and took out twenty quid and handed it to Jade. She looked at it in disgust.

  'What's this for? We're not prossies, you know.'

  'Cab fare home,' I said.

  Karen plucked the note out of my hand. 'Aren't you going to drive us then?'

  'Sorry girls, I've got to work.'

  'Thought you said you were off duty. Where the fuck are we going to get a cab from round here?'

  So in the end I drove them both home, and they kept the twenty quid anyway. By the time I got back to the studios the whole thing was wrapping up and I got a dressing down from the assistant director, some silly bitch with a clipboard and square glasses, who wasn't listening to any excuses about getting lost. I got changed and handed my costume back, but in all the confusion of everything being packed up, I noticed there was nobody around the wardrobe area, so I quickly swiped the uniform into a plastic bag and headed for home before anybody missed it, without even thinking what I was doing.

  3.

  I said before that some men get off on adrenaline rushes; that was true for me, I'd just found a bit of an odd way of getting it. Don't get me wrong - I don't have much trouble pulling women. That might sound like I'm bragging but I don't; I'm not bad looking and I keep myself in shape. I'd even lived with my ex for a while, until she decided she'd had enough of me. She was the kind of woman who wanted me to be all man at first - telling her what to do and being the boss. But after a year or so she got bored with that and decided she only wanted me to be the boss when she wanted it, which sort of defeated the whole idea, but you can't have a rational discussion with a woman about that kind of thing.

  Turns out she went off with some wimpy little bloke who worked for local council and I got the impression, from what I heard from the one or two mutual friends I was still in touch with, that he let her walk all over him and she loved it. No doubt she'll get fed up with that eventually as well and move on to someone else. Thank Christ I'd never married her or God knows what state I'd be in now; I'd got away just with being lumbered with a house bigger than I needed and a massive mortgage, but I counted myself lucky. Anyway, this is just to show I'm not some sad fucker who lives with his mum and has to dress up like a copper to get a woman.

  Maybe I could have picked up two girls like Karen and Jade if I'd just been an ordinary bloke in a club, or maybe not. It didn't really bother me; what really gave it the edge was the idea that I was doing something pretty dangerous and that if I got found out, well, it didn't bear thinking about.

  Back at home after that first night I checked out the uniform I'd managed to nick from the film company. I compared it to stuff I'd seen on the internet and realised it was a pretty close match to a Metropolitan Police uniform but not exactly right, something about it not being legal to be totally accurate. Trousers, shirt, tie, stab vest, fluorescent jacket were all accurate but the helmet was an obsolete pattern and some of the stuff on the equipment belt and the radio, which was a dummy one, wasn't right anyway. The numbers on the epaulettes, or collar numbers as they're called, were London ones as well. I hadn't managed to nick the baton or the cuffs either as they'd been looking after those a bit more carefully. I guessed though that nobody would realise any of this was wrong. Would you know what they should look like? The only person who might suspect something was another copper and if they got that close it was game over anyway.

  A few nights later I decided to have another go; I don't know what it was, I just had to try it out, if only for a little while. I read once about some flasher who started off just getting his tackle out at home, then showing it to nobody in particular in parks late at night, until he worked his way up to pulling it out in front of young girls. I wondered if I was going that way but to be honest, I didn't care. I thought I'd just do it once more and that would be it.

  I decided to have a quick walk around near one of the big clubs in an industrial town called Stonefield about 30 miles away. I'd read in the paper something about there not being enough police there and only a few on duty so I reckoned there might be a few girls about but nobody who'd suss what I was doing. I got into all the gear and decided I looked pretty good. I put a civilian coat on so nobody would see and then drove out to Stonefield. I'd checked out the street plan before, and had a drive around to make sure there weren't any police about.

  Sure enough there were only a couple on foot patrol on the high street and a couple in a parked van near the crappy looking nightclub called Legends, which was due to close at midnight. I reckoned if I had a quick walk around after closing time, not too close, I might pick up a girl or, if my luck was really in, a couple of girls like last time. Come 12.30 I parked my car somewhere quiet and got ready, then walked cautiously up the road a bit nearer to the club. A few stragglers were starting to walk home but they were all groups of blokes, or fat girls squeezed into clothes too tight for them. I got a couple of catcalls from them but ignored them, looking from side to side like I was on patrol but really I was on the lookout either for fit girls, or coppers.

  I turned a corner and that was when my luck ran out. I saw a copper on the other side of the road come out of nowhere; he must have been up an alley or something. Seeing a crowd of clubbers up ahead I decided to walk close behind them, hoping I wouldn't be seen and wishing I hadn't worn the bloody dayglo jacket. Sweat was pouring off me and I took the helmet off to wipe my forehead, then kept it in my hand so as not to look too obvious. There was a bit of jostling from the clubbers, a harmless but thick looking bunch of mostly blokes, pissed and eating chips and kebabs.

  'Oy oy!' One of them shouted. 'Watch out Lukey, PC Plod's up your arse!'

  There was laughter as the man at the back, Lukey I guessed, turned round angrily, holding a chip up to his open mouth.

  'What's the problem pal? Back off!' he said, aggressively.

  'No problem. Just keep walking.' I tried to sound as calm as possible, and I kept my voice down, though I’d like to have punched the little twat in the face. I couldn't see the two coppers now and prayed they'd walked on without seeing me. My heart felt like it was going to burst out through my chest. Then I heard a loud voice from behind me.

  'Oy. Oy you. Come here.'

  I ignored him but he called out again and I realised I'd been spotted. I thought fast. I could either bluff my way out of it, say it was all a joke, but somehow I didn't think that would work. So I decided offence was the best form of defence. Suddenly the adrenaline was gone, and I felt calm, like I'd heard actors feel when they go on stage. I stopped and turned. He was on the other side of the road and walking rapidly towards me. I took a deep breath and walked over to him. He was a shortarse, wearing specs, probably just a Special and trying to bluff his way into looking hard. Before he could say anything I cut him off.

  'Do you talk to everybody on the force like that?' I said angrily.

  He looked me up and down. 'What are you talking about? Come here. What do you think this is, fancy dress? Or are you a strippergram or something?'

  I couldn't be sure he'd sussed me so I decided to keep up with the pretence, hoping I'd be able to talk my way out of it. The group of clubbers had stopped a little way down the road, and were watching with interest. I drew myself up to my full height and looked down at him.

  'Look, I don't know what your problem is, but I'm due on shift in five minutes and I'm not in the mood for pissing about.'

  A flicker of doubt crossed his face and I knew I had a chance. I just had to keep it up. He put his hands on his hips and looked me up and down again.

  'What's this then? Where's your baton, and your name badge?'

  I breathed a sigh of relief that he'd not had the sense to ask me something I couldn't answer. When you're backed into a corner, I've always found if you keep talking long enough you can talk your way out of anything. It's like being with a customer; keep up the sales patter and don't give them a chance to thi
nk about it.

  'Not that it's anything to do with you, but I've only just been called up here from London ‘cos your lot needed help, and I'm not even supposed to be on shift. Half my stuff's had to be brought up in the van for me. If I don't meet the rest of my lads then your sergeant's going to hear from mine'.

  I saw his eyes flick to my shoulder number and I hoped he recognised it as a London one, which might have backed my story up a bit, but I was starting to get really nervous by this time.

  He said 'I don't know anything about this. Wait here.'

  I folded my arms in annoyance, looking around to see if I had a chance to run for it, while he turned away slightly and said something I couldn't hear into his radio. A few seconds later he turned and stepped over to me, flicking the cuffs off his belt. I could see by his face I’d blown it.

  'I'm arresting you on suspicion of impersonating a....'

  Before he'd had a chance to finish, there was the sound of shouting and a bottle breaking up the road in the crowd of clubbers who were watching. Some pisshead argument or fight had broken out between them. Grabbing the chance, I shouted 'over there!' and ran as fast as I could to the group of startled onlookers. They parted in front of me and I thought I'd got away but then saw another copper running down the street towards me, either attracted by the noise or from the shouts of the one who'd sussed me.

  The second copper, a big bloke chewing gum and looking a lot more capable than the first, shouted to me.

  'What's going on?'

  I shouted and pointed ahead.'That way!'

  Gum-chewer looked round, puzzled, then nearly collided with Specs who was still after me. Specs shouted. 'Get him!'

  Gum-chewer looked as confused as before and I heard him shout 'get who?' He obviously didn't have a clue what was going on. To my right I saw one of the pissed clubbers, the one called Lukey, having a right old laugh and swaying as he tried to focus on what was going on. I paused momentarily and shouted 'that one!' and pointed at him. Lukey's face fell and Gum-chewer grabbed him, chips flying everywhere, and wrestled him to the ground. I turned and started running again, and the last thing I heard was Specs shouting. 'Not that one, the other one!' But it was too late.

  I managed to duck into an alley and clawed at my gear to get it off, stuffing it into the folded up carrier bag I'd carried in my pocket in case of just such an emergency. I could hear a siren now, probably the van I'd seen earlier. I checked the coast was clear then walked as calmly as I could back to my car, wearing just my black trousers and white shirt and shivering a bit in the late night cold.

  It seemed to take forever to find it and I had to duck into the shadows when a patrol car went past. Finally I found the car and drove out of town by the back roads. I learnt my lesson that night. That was the last time I was going to go on 'foot patrol.' It was just too dangerous. As I drove home I passed a couple of cars, driven by women on their own, and noticed their eyes flicker nervously in their rear mirrors as I overtook them. I realised that the back roads of that part of the country were almost completely deserted at night. No coppers around, nobody around at all in fact. A plan started to form in my mind.

  4.

  A couple of weeks later I pulled over my first lone female in a car. It had taken me that long to get all the stuff sorted out for the car - false plates, blue light, siren, and a flat cap instead of a helmet. I'd brushed up on procedure on the internet and checked a likely route with good stops for pulling a car over. It was almost laughably easy. The first couple of times it felt like being a kid again, playing somewhere where you knew you weren't allowed to.

  Believe it or not, there wasn't any sex. I tried it on, but the two women I stopped weren't taking the bait - they either didn't understand what I was on about, or didn't want to, and I ended up just telling them to behave themselves and go home. Like I said, that wasn't the end of the world; if I was honest, it was the power trip I was getting off on; the way these women did what they were told just because I'd put a uniform on and flashed a blue light at them.

  On the third try, though, I struck lucky - and that was the woman I first told you about. That had been fantastic and I was hoping to pull something like that off again. Unfortunately, as he usually did, Derek threw a spanner in the works by telling me I had to work late for three nights that week to clear a backlog of invoices and accounts stuff, mostly caused by his own inability to do the paperwork properly in the first place. The funny thing was though that he did me a big favour.

  Derek had just told me about having to work late and I'd stormed off for a fag break to calm down. I knew that would piss Derek off anyway; he didn't like staff taking smoke breaks and used to complain about it, saying 'I don't get five minute breaks all the time; just because you're stupid enough to smoke I don't see why you should get them'.

  I pointed out that the company rulebook said staff could take a five minute break every two hours. It didn't say what for, it could be for a cup of tea or for taking a crap in the toilets for all that it mattered, but Derek needed something to make himself feel morally superior. So there I was outside the back door, drawing angrily on a cigarette and trying to calm down, when out came Mandy off the shop floor. I instantly brightened up.

  'Got a spare fag, Carl?' she asked, like she did every time she came out.

  'You're too young to smoke.' I smiled as I pushed a cigarette towards her from the packet. It had become a bit of a joke with us.

  I felt the cool touch of her small hand round mine as she shielded the flame from my lighter, drawing a deep draft of smoke in then exhaling it upwards. She leaned back against the wall, looking breathtaking in a tight black top and little floral skirt. She held her arms across her chest in that instinctive way that large-breasted girls seem to, cupping a hand under her elbow and holding her cigarette away from her face as she took a second, more delicate puff.

  'Cheers Carl. Cheer up, can't be as bad as all that.' She'd noticed my expression.

  'Suppose not. Derek's put me on lates for the rest of this week.'

  Mandy's normally sunny expression turned to disgust. 'You too? He's got me on that as well. It's my last day tomorrow and I'm thinking of telling him where to stick it, but I need a good reference.'

  I realised her two-week placement had flown by, I'd started to enjoy our little chats and I realised I was going to miss her. I took a deep drag and pursed my lips, breathing out a cloud of smoke downwards. 'Fucking Derek. I've had it up to here with him.'

  Mandy laughed. 'You too eh?'

  I felt the mutual relief you get when you realise a colleague shares your bad opinion of someone else.

  'I'm guessing you don't like him much either. You've only had to put up with him for a fortnight. I've been here years.'

  Mandy shuddered. 'Urgh, he's horrible. He always disappears when the shop gets busy and then he's always trying to look down my top, dirty old sod.'

  I laughed and looked her in the eye, my glance momentarily dropping to her chest then back up. 'Well, you can't blame him for that.'

  Mandy smiled and shoved me playfully. I thrilled at the pressure of her little hand on my bare arm. 'Oy you! I don't mind some men looking at me. Just not him.'

  There was a pause as we both smoked. I realised it was now or never; I needed to make a move before she disappeared out of my life. The trouble was, I'd been so caught up with the IPO game I hadn't even noticed a fit woman right on my own doorstep. I took the plunge.

  'So, got a boyfriend at that college of yours?' I guessed she probably had. She hadn't mentioned one, but girls that pretty usually have a bloke surgically attached to them from the age of consent onwards, if not before.

  'That lot?' she sniffed. 'They're all geeks. Or boys.' She paused then looked at me. 'I prefer men.' She ground her cigarette under her heel.

  I stubbed my cigarette into the aluminium ashtray on the wall and was about to ask her out for a drink but the door crashed open. It was Derek.

  'I think you've had long enough for your
break, you two. The shop floor's getting busy. Mandy, can you come and help, now please.'

  Mandy smiled meekly and turned to go. 'Yes, Derek.'

  Derek looked down at the ground. 'And we don't leave cigarette ends on the floor, do we. Pick it up please, Mandy.'

  She started to bend down and I noticed Derek's eyes flick downward to the short skirt stretched across her arse. I stepped in.

  'I'll pick it up, Derek, that one was mine.' I bent and scooped up the fag end, sticking it in the ashtray with a violent stab, looking at him with an expression of disgust.

  He bridled, and then collected himself. 'Thank you Carl. You're needed now as well.' He turned to go in and Mandy looked back at me, mouthing 'thanks' as I followed on.

  Come closing time Derek had sent off the other two staff and there was just me, him and Mandy in the back office. I had a sneaking suspicion that Derek would have liked it to be just him and Mandy, but he knew he couldn't do without me on the VAT backlog stuff because as with most things he didn't have a bloody clue. Then there was a stroke of luck; I heard his mobile go and he came out of his office looking pissed off. It turned out his kid, Damien, had got sick or something and his wife was worried so he had to go home. So with more annoyance than usual he told me to make sure I locked up properly and made sure Mandy got home alright, and left.