I’m standing on the High Street in Gretton wearing nothing more than a pair of underpants and trainers, backing away from a large intoxicated tattooed woman with a crow bar in her hand. Somehow I took it into my head that attack was the best form of defence, presumably as a result of the vast quantities of adrenalin still pumping around my body. Within what seemed like a single second the crow bar was on the floor and I had the woman in some kind of arm-hold behind her back and garbling some kind of an excuse for a citizen’s arrest. To this day I can’t explain how I managed such a successful disarming. The police still hadn’t arrived so I thought the best tactic would be to isolate the woman from the immediate situation into the relative calmness of my own living room. As we ‘frog-marched’ through the front door our little dog Barney was still making loud noises from behind the door of another room. This had an immediate effect on our ‘visitor’. “Don’t let the dog near me, please, whatever you do don’t let the dog out of that room”. She wasn’t to know that Barney was as soft as the day is long, but this was no time to dissolution her. She was absolutely terrified at the thought which proved to be very handy in controlling her. As the three of us sat waiting for the police to arrive she asked to use the toilet. ‘Mm..Awkward’ I thought. “Oh she’ll be fine” said my wife. “I’ll stand guard at the door”. Thankfully that little distraction passed without incident as the first police car materialised outside. The front door was still ajar as the first of two officers came in. Another police car arrived, this time with a peak-capped higher ranking officer on board, though he didn’t come in at first instead heading for the village green. Following the briefest of interrogations the woman was read her rights, arrested, handcuffed and escorted outside and onto her fate. I thought that this might be a good opportunity to get properly dressed while the police drank their tea and prepared to take our statements of account. The senior officer was now in the living room and the uniformed activity on the village green had intensified. A young officer had been scribbling away for some time as we relayed the bizarre events of the morning. Then he looked at me. “Are you aware of the speed limit in a built up area Mr. Oliff?” “Oh don’t be ridiculous” said the senior officer. Though, on reflection, the former was quite right to ask. “Did the woman leave this room for any reason?” We explained about the trip to the loo. An officer who was shown the bathroom immediately lifted the cistern lid to reveal a well concealed plastic bag. “Where’s the airing cupboard?” Here too he found another little surprise deposited by our visitor. Then I remembered the blonde haired man.