As we pulled into the yard, keen to get out of our wet clothes and get the fire lit it became apparent, all was not good. I knew Paul wasn’t home and as I’d unlocked the gate at the end of the drive I certainly wasn’t expecting anyone else to be in the yard. I was about to turn the car’s engine off when John-William said: “Mummy, the front door is wide open.”
I glanced at the door before quickly driving away. A brief phone call to Paul confirmed my fears, we had unwanted visitors. I stopped the car between the two underpasses and, with engine running, dialled 999. As the initial panic receded, a rage started to rise within me.
There is only one way in and one way out of our farm, that is unless you want to take a chance at crossing a busy motorway. I sat in my car, fuming that some low life had come to my home, kicked my door in and entered, intent on taking whatever they wanted. Our dogs are never left home alone and the majority of things in the house can be replaced. But it didn’t stop my anger.
John-William chatted nervously next to me, going through a list of potential items belonging to him that a thief may take. His biggest concern being the little pile of birthday presents waiting to be opened the following day.
I could think of nothing else except the accelerator pedal, waiting patiently under my foot, ready to be depressed if anyone came running down our drive. After only minutes of making my call to the police, an unmarked car appeared followed by two more police cars. We all headed back up to the house and John-William and I waited whilst the police went in.
I half expected a masked robber to come charging out with four policemen hot on his heels. However, the reality was much more embarrassing, even though it came as a huge relief.
There was no damage to the door, no forced entry and no masked robber.
“I’m not sure how your house should look or at least how you’ve left things, but it’s safe for you to come in,” said the policewoman that had done the search with her colleagues.
I shuddered at the thought of our upstairs and would have gladly welcomed a large hole to open up and swallow me! Mid-house renovations or house destruction as Paul calls my decorating, the house is in a chaotic state to say the least.
Piles of unwanted clothes, paint brushes, tins of paint and broken toys lay strewn around as I attempt to get our home in order. Thankfully, the police were incredibly understanding as we realised that in a mad rush to retrieve some free-ranging sheep, Paul had left the door wide open!
I apologised profusely for not only wasting their time but subjecting them to our current house chaos! I shudder to think of the conversation as they drove away from our mad house.