So I was walking back from Tesco last night and I can here this woman screaming, well, wailing more like, almost sobbing almost screaming and it’s loud: I can hear it half way up the street. I’m not entirely sure it’s an emergency, it’s not exactly a blood curdling scream, so I dial 101 and I tell them all about it. The problem is that I don’t know the number of the house that it’s coming from so I spend ten minutes mooching around in the dark trying to find a house with a visible number on. That done I head home.
About half an hour later a police officer phones me and asks me where the house is. I realise that trying to describe the location of the house isn’t really going to work so I tell him that if he picks me up then I can point out the house. This is duly done and five minutes later I’m back at my own house.
I feel uneasy though. It’s one of those, “It’s probably nothing, but…” situations. I’m comfortable with that; I’m always conscious of how many fuck ups are caused by people ignoring rather than investigating things because, “It’s probably nothing”. What bugs me is the lack of resolution – I don’t know what happened or what it was.