The husband was away last night, so I had bottle of beer and too many Pringles. I fell asleep while watching tv, so decided to have an early night. At 10.50pm as I closed the curtains I noticed a big police van parked outside the house. I ignored it. Men have been resurfacing the road nearby and they've been closing off access, so I just assumed it was to do with that. When you live in a town centre you quickly learn to ignore a lot of things. Or you move to the countryside.
At 11.30 there was a loud knock at the front door, waking me up. It was the police. I remembered something my mother said years ago "If the police knock at your door at night, it's never good news."
"How many people are in the house?" asked the policeman.
"Just me." I said.
Things then went surreal. "There's a car parked up the road from you and we suspect there's a bomb in it, so we're asking all the residents to leave their homes for their own safety until we've been able to disable it."
I am naturally stroppy and difficult. "Are you forcing me to leave my house?" I asked.
"No, but we are strongly advising it."
"Oh alright." I grumped.
I dragged on my clothes and went outside. The street was full of bustle, with police and army running all over the place and communicating on walkie talkies. Someone had cordoned off the area with that plastic tape stuff. I had to duck under it to get to the "evacuee zone". Which was my local pub.
My area is mainly occupied by respectable elderly folk, so it was hardly suprising that I was the first one to arrive. Gradually the pub started to fill up. There was a jovial atmosphere. I exchanged emails with the husband and drank beer. At 1.30 am the policeman came back and said we could leave.
"Was there a bomb then?" I asked him.
He looked embarrassed. "No, but we had a lot of evidence that there was."
The bomb disposal robot traipsed down the hill. It looked a bit like a giant version of WALL-E. I took a photo of it and went to bed.
Turned out it was a car battery