Southend U3A

A Step into the Unknown (1) - Joan Bond

January 2013

Ellie was very tired, she had just returned from a shift along the Strand and the people were there in hundreds.

She was a police support officer and worked the night run. I thought as she was with another young woman it would be a bit scary for her but she said it was always packed with tourists. It was only by about 5am that they were on their own.

Travellers were a pretty colourful bunch, asking her where such and such a place was, could she direct them. Buildings could be seen in the distance, 200 yards as the crow flies but not when you had to point out the alleys and side roads for access. This was particularly difficult if the visitor spoke no English at all.

She hadn't the powers of a trained policeman but wore the uniform with pride, making her feel pretty good and she wanted to help and please all and sundry. There were also the people when on a jolly who wanted to pinch her hat and trail off to the shouts of their mates, but she managed a firm and loud enough voice to sort them out. She hadn't started the job until she was forty, having been encouraged by her policeman friend who suggested she would make more money and have a future rather than the jobs she had had before. She had some tales to tell as well such as the best place to spend the night if down and out was the doorway of Topshop, as it was there that the vents of the hot air were situated. She told of one night at Horse-guards one of the sentries was gesturing strongly with his eyes at a carrier bag left at his feet. He wasn't allowed to move of course but thought it may have been a bomb. They had to ring in to check, but it was ok.

They also had to hold back the crowd on the bridge one day as there was a photo-shoot of a boys band who everyone wanted to see and others turned nasty as they wanted access to the Tate Modern.

After all these different contingencies she would arrive back on the train to home where she called into the supermarkets to grab a few special offers. She ate many meals from the freezer as it was quick and simple after a long shift. If there was something she specially enjoyed she would buy half a dozen packs. One morning after guarding the wreaths on the Cenotaph all night she was cold and pretty fed up, wondering if her bloke's idea had been a good one after all. If she still worked for the Post Office in the sorting dept it would be warm and dry and they had a really good canteen where she would by this time be having a bacon butty and a lovely cup of coffee.

Still, she thought, the pay was better and she had her days off. Thinking of this she felt she really must have a cleanup and sort all the laundry that seemed to amass in the basket. They supplied you with six shirts but with all the body armour she had to wear all the time now they got pretty mucky and the thick socks in her boots became lethal if not in the machine after five days.

Yes tomorrow she would have a purge on the flat.

Next morning she had a good breakfast in preparation for the tiring day ahead, sorted the washing, vacuuming and even dusted. She was being industrious trying to put off the evil moment. She had faced many precarious and dangerous ventures in her job, so she could do it. Picking up her hair dryer, rubber gloves and kettles of boiling water she entered her utility room, took a step into the unknown and faced defrosting her freezer.