In Which I Declare my Love for Nottingham Oncemore
Yesterday morning, there was a loud knock on the front door. It’s not that unusual, because everyone knocks loudly here. I guess we are not the only ones without a working doorbell. I rushed down two flights of stairs to get it, since I always get there just as people start to turn away. This time, as I came around the corner into the hallway, a piece of yellow paper floated down onto the doormat. It had some handwriting and POLICE written on it.
I unlocked the five locks on my front door (I wasn’t kidding when I said that I live in quite a bad neighbourhood) to find a police officer standing there. There had been a burglary in my street - did I happen to have heard anything between midnight and 1am? I was awake at that time but I had to tell him that sadly, I hadn’t. I gave him my name and he told me that the burglars had got in through an unlocked back door, so to be mindful of that.
I’m happily surprised that the police here actually have time to question the neighbourhood regarding a burglary. I honestly thought that if you weren’t bleeding from large, unnatural holes in your body, they simply couldn’t afford to spend time on what you did have to say. I’m also pleased that they bother to warn people that burglars are active at the moment. I checked the locks on my back door (another four or so), and made sure to close and lock all windows on the ground floor.
Of course, I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night. I kept hearing things that weren’t there, or weren’t significant. Realistically, I’m in a fortress, and there is absolutely nothing of value in the house. But I still got kind of nervous. It’ll wear off over time. Right now, being on guard is probably very useful.
PS. Ha, I wrote that entire post with tomato sauce on my nose. Good old homemade hamburgers. I need to look in mirrors more often! :D