‘Leave it, Shane,’ said Nelson.
‘That’s not even a proper uniform. Look at it! If I threw a match at him, he’d go up in flames.’
Shane turned to his boyfriend, who looked at him uncertainly. Nelson could practically see the veil falling from his eyes. ‘You are a policeman, aren’t you?’ he asked nervously.
‘Of course I am.’
‘Are you?’
‘Well, no, not quite,’ admitted Nelson.
‘What does not quite mean?’
‘Hold on, hold on,’ said the second officer. ‘Are you going around impersonating an officer? Because if you are, that’s a criminal offence.’
‘As far as we were aware, he is a policeman,’ said Susan, marching over now with all the determination of one of America’s Next Top Models out on a go-see at Calvin Klein. ‘That’s what he told us anyway.’
‘What’s your name?’ asked the officer.
‘My name?’
‘Yes, your name. You do know it, I assume.’
‘My name,’ said Nelson, looking back and forth with a smile on his face, ‘is Michael Caine.’
Everyone stared at him.
‘You’re claiming to be Michael Caine?’ asked the policeman.
‘No, that was … that was a joke. It’s Nelson Cleverley. That’s my name.’
‘All right, Nelson Cleverley, so let’s clear this up. Are you or are you not a member of Her Majesty’s Metropolitan police force?’
‘Do I have to answer that?’
‘You do, yes.’
‘Well, strictly speaking, no, I’m not,’ admitted Nelson.
‘Then why are you dressed like one?’
‘The thing is,’ he said, realizing he had no choice but to come clean. ‘I went to a speed-dating session earlier in the week. That’s where I met Shane.’
‘Who’s Shane?’
‘I’m Shane,’ said Shane, raising a hand.
‘And I was dressed like a policeman because it made me feel more confident, but then we hit it off and I didn’t want to admit that I wasn’t a policeman after all, so I stuck with it.’
‘Wait,’ said Shane, looking aghast. ‘Do you mean you’ve been lying to me from the start?’
‘I didn’t set out to lie,’ he said. ‘It just sort of happened.’
‘Fuck you!’
‘Shane!’
‘No, I mean it. Fuck you! What a shitty thing to do!’
‘It’s not just a shitty thing to do,’ said the officer, taking another pair of handcuffs from his belt and snapping them on to Nelson’s wrists; this pair, unlike his own, was quite solid, ‘it’s also illegal. Which means that you, my friend, are under arrest.’
‘No!’ cried Nelson as his arms were dragged behind his back. ‘I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I’ll take it off right now, if you like, even though I don’t have anything to change into. I’ll throw the uniform away when I get home, I promise.’
‘Not good enough. You can’t go around impersonating an officer. It’s a criminal offence.’
‘But I’ve applied!’ cried Nelson in a beseeching tone. ‘I’m waiting to hear back about the date for my interview. So, in a way, it’s only a matter of time.’
‘Well, I can assure you that there’ll be no interview now,’ said the policeman, leading him towards the door. ‘We’ll look into your application when we get back to the station.’
‘And what will happen to it?’
‘It’s not obvious?’ asked Susan, who looked delighted to have her brother back. ‘It’ll be cancelled.’
MACHETE
Elizabeth’s existential crisis continued as she made her way home, only snapping out of it as she turned the corner on to her street, where the sound of a police car’s siren dragged her back to the present moment. She glanced to her right as it passed, noticing a woman seated in the back seat, her face pressed up against the window, who bore a surprising resemblance to her mother, Beverley.
Entering the house, she stood in the living room and glanced at the selection of books on display in one of the cabinets and wondered whether she might try to read one after all. That eight-hundred-page biography that her father had bought earlier in the week had now moved to an occasional table by the window, but its spine had yet to be cracked. Breathing slowly, the way she’d seen people do on YouTube videos about mindfulness, she decided to set herself a challenge. From today, she would force herself to put her phone away for a specific amount of time every day. Ten minutes in the home safe now. Fifteen minutes tomorrow. And so on until it was out of her hands for an hour at a time. Perhaps in a month or two she’d hardly be using it at all.
Christ, she thought to herself, an outrageous idea entering her mind, I could even get a job.
Feeling a great wave of contentment as this plan took shape in her mind, she barely had time to think about what sort of job might suit a young woman of her particular skillset, when a noise like an explosion rocked the house. She screamed aloud; it sounded as if the front door was being smashed in. This was followed a moment later by the terrifying noise of men shouting as they stormed into the hallway and spread out, charging up the staircase and into the kitchen and living room, where two of them were confronted by a hysterical Elizabeth. A few more ran in and, to her horror and bewilderment, they were wearing dark blue jackets, bulletproof vests and visors over their faces and were carrying what looked to be loaded machine guns while roaring at her to lie on the floor with her hands behind her head.
She continued to scream, but one of them made a lunge in her direction and, before she knew it, her face was pressed against the carpet while half a dozen rifles were pointed at her head. Someone knelt on her back, fastening what felt like a cable tie around her wrists and ankles before dragging her back to her feet. Looking out to the hallway, she saw more men going upstairs, calling out that they were armed officers and if there was anyone in the house, they needed to come out now with their hands up.
‘There’s no one here!’ she shouted. ‘Only me. What are you doing? What’s going on?’
Now that the target had been neutralized, a younger man in a sharp suit entered and looked her up and down disdainfully. His clothes and demeanour bore a striking resemblance to Major Toht from Raiders of the Lost Ark and she had a sudden image of being locked in an interrogation room with a white light shining in her face.
‘Elizabeth Cleverley?’ he asked in a casual tone, as if they were great friends and this was just a spontaneous visit.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ she said, tears streaming down her face. ‘I don’t know what’s happening here. I haven’t done anything!’
‘Haven’t you?’
‘No! Nothing at all.’ She raised her voice now. ‘Why are all these guns being pointed at me?’
‘Because you’re under arrest,’ said the man calmly.
She felt herself begin to relax a little; obviously, this was a mistake, and it wouldn’t be long before they were begging her forgiveness and settling out of court for the trauma they’d put her through.