The Village
population figure had to be retained at eleven hundred. Why? I hadn‘t a clue but it appeared that instead of them having a hold on me it was the other way around. The point was that I was the only person available to fill the gap.
    We drank some coffee together and he put on his jacket to take me to the police station, explaining that I had handed myself in voluntarily and that I was willing to meet the widow, Bridget McBain. Despite the dispensation offered to me by the Chairman the desk sergeant was livid with the damage I had cause to the floor of the office upstairs and the ceiling of the cell below. I offered my services to help repair the plasterwork but he had already arranged for someone else to undertake the repairs.
    Townsend left shortly afterwards and I sat on a wooden seat in the police station facing the desk sergeant.
    He stared at me with a sullen expression on his face. ‘You’re a trouble-maker,’ he spat angrily. ‘I knew that the moment I laid eyes on you!’
    â€˜Is that what you think of me,’ I asked cheekily. ‘Do you know, last week I was walking around the outskirts of Basra in Iraq holding a machine-gun in my hands, watching out for anyone who might want to take a pot-shot at me or any mines that might have been dug in at the roadside. My role there was a peacekeeper.’
    He stared at me with an element of disbelief and it soon became evident that his view of me started to change substantially.
    â€˜You were in the army in Persia,’ he uttered in amazement.
    â€˜Well it’s called Iraq now,’ I corrected deciding to press home my advantage. ‘I was in the Fourth Regiment putting my life on the line for quite some time. I won an award of merit for saving the lives of four soldiers on the front line under severe fire.’
    The information stunned him into silence but that didn’t quench his inquisitiveness. ‘How come you ended up in Numbwinton?’
    â€˜The story I told you was true. I got demobbed from the arm and was going to my sister’s house in Bishopstown but got lost... What surprises me is that this village is so much behind the times... so far from the bustle and bustle of modern life... so remote from television, computers and the like. How do you keep it that way. I mean surely some of the people want to leave here to set up elsewhere. Some of them must have that kind of ambition.’
    â€˜We’re happy here,’ he responded. ‘We don’t like strangers to interfered in our way of life.’
    â€˜Hopefully I’m not longer a strange. I’d like to live this kind of peaceful life. When do I meet Bridget McBain?’
    â€˜Very shortly,’ he told me.
    He stared at me long and hard, weighing me up, and then returned his attention to some papers on his desk to continue to work. I stood up and went to the door. It was remarkably how his attitude had changed towards me.
    â€˜Where do you think you’re going?’ he demanded officially.
    â€˜I’m just going to get some fresh air,’ I replied.
    â€˜Just because you wre brought in by Mr. Townsend doesn’t mean you can treat this like Liberty Hall,’ he reproached me sharply. ‘You’re helping the police with their enquiries. If that doesn’t suit you, I can offer you another cell... only this time there won’t be a bed or a chair in it.’
    It was a sobering thought. His tone reminded me of my Commanding Officer when I went into Basra with an army colleague one night. It was off limits but I went there with him anyway. The CO read me the Riot Act when I returned, warning me that if I ever did anything like that again I would be put on a Charge. The inference of this civilian situation was pretty much the same thing. So I went back to my seat and sat down, cooling my temper. The desk sergeant recognised that he had damaged my ego and he leaned over the counter to pass me a book. I looked at the title

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