The Visit

As I crouched beside Gretta's bicycle, my hands covered in oil, a Ford Escort pulled up outside the house and two "clean cut" policeman got out, walked purposely down the drive and knocked politely on the door.

"Mrs. Peterson?" Rachel nodded nervously on the doorstep, and the large policeman continued. "I'm Sorry to bother you, but I have to ask you a few questions, can we come in?" Rachel looked up and down the street and pretty startled, put her hand to her mouth making it into a perfect o. She then quickly let them in and shut the door sending net curtains, six doors either side of "Cornucopia" flapping back into position.

The two gentlemen sat down and Rachel asked the fat one, that looked as if he had a coat hanger stuck in the back of his jacket, if they would: "like a drink, or anything." Sergeant Bile thanked Rachel and both men simultaneously removed their peaked caps and, as policemen do, held them under their armpits. "Well that's very civil of you Mrs. Peterson, the Constable and I have been on duty since 4am and would be most grateful for a bite to eat." Constable Hurn nodded in approval and his tongue scanned his top lip uncontrollably. "Coffee & Toast O.K?" Rachel asked, which was eagerly accepted. "That'll be fine Mrs. Peterson, and perhaps a few grilled tomatoes? This surprised Rachel somewhat. Surely this was not usual police practice? Rachel shrugged it off, however, and returned to the Kitchen while Hurn made for Raymond's desk draw, and pulled out a floral Cravat. He then held it up to Bile and sniggered just quietly enough so that Rachel wouldn't hear. Hurn, still chuckling to himself, shut the desk draw quietly, returned to the two seater settee, next to his partner, and struck up a conversation.


""Serge", I don't know about you, but I fancy a few mushrooms with my tomatoes." Sergeant Bile agreed and, he being the senior officer, took responsibility and ventured down the hall to the kitchen catching sight of Gretta in her nightee, who was leaning over the banister in an attempt to hear what was going on. Sergeant Bile tapped on the glass of the kitchen door that was tightly closed to prevent the smell of fried tomatoes causing a disgraceful smell in the lounge. Rachel couldn't hear his tapping properly so Bile prized the door open making Rachel jump six inches into the air. "Mrs. Peterson, sorry to startled you, but before we start our interview, which won't take very long, we wondered if it would be possible to have a few mushrooms with our tomatoes." Rachel didn't have any mushrooms and, to be honest, was getting pretty teed-off by them asking for extra food. Rachel bit her tongue, again, and said she'd ask Gretta to pop to the shop for a half pound. Bile nodded and smiled at Rachel and made his way back down the hall to the lounge. As Bile re-entered the room he winked at Hurn and at the same time made a circle with his thumb and forefinger before allowing himself fall into Derek's big chair. He then flicked on the T.V. with the remote control perched on the arm. There wasn't a lot on a Monday morning at five past nine. I.T.V. had a fashion spot advising young mothers how keeps sexy when pregnant. On the Sofa, with two apparently brainless presenters, was a lump of an Agony Aunt, and a gorgeous fashion expert. (N.B. Breakfast T.V. presenters are not really stupid they simply do what their producer has told them, which is to make the people at home feel more comfortable by appearing as ill informed, as they think, they are.) The Councillor, prompted by the professional amateurs, was explaining that when a man appears put off by your “bump” doesn’t worry, it's not his fault! It’s just that you feel uncomfortable about your own body so you are giving your partner all the wrong vibes. Judging by my inane nods from the "thoughtful" hosts everyone agreed that it was all a question of a distorted body image. Though "Trudy & Mike" did frown knowingly at the camera (as they're supposed to do) at the fashion editors suggestion that a heavily pregnant women should overcome her feelings of sexual inadequacy by wearing a large, highly polished, ruby in her navel.

B.B.C.1 was equally absorbing with it's fascinating quiz "Words Everywhere" in which contestants have three minutes to make as many words they can from longer words. The word for today's show was Constantinople which became particularly amusing as the "hilarious" compére had provoked the audience into peels of laughter because an elderly contestant, called Betty, had made penis. Channel 4, true to form, had a documentary about nineteenth century black lesbian rights and B.B.C.2 had the test card, which on balance, was about the best programme.

As P.C. Hurn hopped aimlessly from channel to channel Rachel entered the room with two coffees, and put them on the table, which she then dragged as close to them as possible so that they wouldn't have to stretch. Rachel then turned to collect the food, and, as she did so, looked rather sternly at Sergeant Bile who had cocked his leg up over the arm of her cottage style settee and picking his nose quite shamelessly.

By this time Gretta had returned from the corner shop with the mushrooms and was trying to tell her mother that I was sort of a policeman and could speak to them. Rachel was too beside herself to listen and got on with peeling the skins off the mushrooms. Gretta didn't give in easily, and pressed her point right up until Rachel gave her the plates full of breakfast to waitress to their unwanted guests.

As Gretta walked into the lounge with the tray P.C. Hurn stopped playing the remote control and put it back onto the arm of the settee partly obscuring one of the large golden swirls. Gretta put the meals on the table in front of the men and said boldly. "I hope you will now tell us what on earth's happened to my brother." The two men were stunned by the young woman's tone, which caused them to pause temporarily as they leaned over to pick up their breakfast. However, once the two of them were ready to tuck in to their piping hot garlic mushrooms and tomatoes on toast Sergeant Bile was more forthcoming, his back arched over the marble top table and fork aiming for a particularly bulbous mushroom he said slightly irritated. "Go and get your mother and we'll tell you." Adding, salivating copiously. "Delicious sauce."

Gretta, still buoyed by the success of her robust approach, returned to the Kitchen to collect her mother who was leaning, stymied, against the silver of the sink unit holding her chin. Rachel was still worried about what the men would have to say about Raymond and looked as if she could burst into tears at the slightest provocation. Gretta comforted her mother and put her arm around her, which caused her, to wriggle uncomfortably as her daughter said softly. "It's all right mom they will see us now." Adding. "Do you want to get Jack?"

There was no need to ask. These men weren't policemen and I had to get Gretta on one side to tell her before they returned to the lounge for their "story".

"Psst... Gretta." Pssst... Psssst." Finally Rachel looked up from Gretta's shoulder and, looking slightly indignant, tapped her daughter on the back who turned to see me beckoning her to come outside to talk. Once in the garden I told her. "They're not policeman "Gret". Before I could elaborate Gretta insisted I was being ridiculous. But I knew they weren't policemen. Gretta shook her head in disbelief at my claim, but finally accepted the fact once I pointed out to her that policemen would never, in any circumstances, wear such unusual footwear. Gretta told her mother what I had said, who also rubbished the idea, but eventually accepted it and reluctantly agreed to my plan to go along with the impostors for now.

While Rachel & Gretta steadied themselves outside the lounge door, as if they were about to make a stage entrance, I returned to my bicycle maintenance, but kept an ear close to the open lounge window. By now both plates were completely empty and Hurn was looking hard at his watch as if he were due somewhere else. Then Rachel strolled in and asked impatiently. "Well Sergeant what would you like to know?" Bile instantly replied. Mrs. Peterson we are trying to trace your son Raymond." He continued authoritatively. "We know he's in Devon and wondered if you had any idea where there he's likely to be." Gretta replied for her mother who was "letting off" as it was and couldn't possibly answer for nerves. "We were rather hoping you would be able to tell us Sergeant." Gretta feigned respect exceptionally well, and continued. "You see we haven't seen him for over a week." Adding deeply concerned. "I hope Raymond’s not in any trouble." The "policeman" opened up his jacket, felt for the inside pocket and pulled out an envelope containing a photograph of the XJ6 outside Bristol Municipal Conveniences and asked. "Do you recognise those." P.C. Hurn leaned over his boss and pointed at a small white pair of men's buttocks.

Rachel was obviously distressed, they looked liked Raymond's, but she couldn't be sure and screwed her face up thinking. Gretta, her index finger placed horizontally against her top lip and eyes fixed on the photograph commented "genuinely". "I just couldn't honestly say Sergeant Bile." The men looked at one another in disappointment that Rachel and Gretta couldn't recognise the bottom as it meant they had no positive lead to his whereabouts. Gretta desperate to get the men out of the house remarked with palpable relief. "I don't know I am afraid Sergeant, but I know someone who will." Rachel looked astonished and shrieked "Who...?" Gretta looked at her mother, clearly pleased with herself, and said. "George, the P.E. master from Finchbury!"


Dissatisfied that we hadn't the facilities to "Fax" Finchbury Hall from Raymond's business "Office" Bile and Hurn thanked us for the meal and left and as they did Bile stared at Rachel and said considerately. "Don't worry madam, I am sure everything will be all right.

As the men left by the front door I had re-entered the house via the back door and had joined Rachel and Gretta who had gathered in the lounge. All three of us then squashed awkwardly onto the two-seater settee to discuss the situation. Rachel, naturally assuming the worst, suggested we call the police. I wrestled with my conscience about that, but if Raymond were in some sort of trouble the police would make matters worse for him. It was all very odd, but it did explain why Raymond had been so secretive. Serious questions, however, still remained unanswered. Why were these two men impersonating police officers, and why did Bile not have the sense to wear regulation black lace ups instead of those light tan sandals, and most puzzling of all why was Raymond exposing himself in Bristol?

Clearly someone wanted Raymond badly and it was becoming increasingly obvious that he was entangled in something very dangerous indeed. It was hard to put the whole picture together, with the limited information we had, but one thing was clear these men meant business and we had to get to Raymond before they did.