The Wrong Arm of the Law

Mark laid the last bundle of sleeping child into the back of the car and climbed into the front seat.

“Goodbye, Goodbye!” he waved, and Mr. and Mrs. Eastman standing on the doorstep, silhouetted in the light from the hall behind them, waved back whilst Elizabeth carefully put the car into reverse and backed down the drive.

“Nine o’clock”, Mark commented. “Not bad time. We should be back by eleven.  Are you alright to drive?”

Elizabeth smiled. He could never believe that she really enjoyed driving and would always willingly have taken over a job he hated in order to save her.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I spent a quiet evening with Mrs. Eastman whilst you were preaching, so don’t worry about me. As long as you can navigate for me. I don’t want to miss the turn this year.”

They chatted quietly about this and that but Mark kept an eye open for the Birmingham road. It would have been easy if they had gone by the main road but they always preferred to stick to the country lanes as long as they could. The only problem was that in the dark it was easy to miss the sign-posts if they did not keep alert.

“Are the children all asleep?” Elizabeth asked, quietly.

Mark turned his head to consider the three bundles lying on the folded down seat with their feet sticking into the boot. There was no movement.

“Think so,” he answered softly. He turned back to the road. The moon had risen and was making a silver glow on the fields ahead of them.

“Pretty,” he said. “And we’ve got it all to ourselves.”

“Almost,” Elizabeth agreed. “There’s a car behind us that I see now and again, but it’s not in a hurry to get past.”

They came to the Birmingham road and turned left. As they did so the other car behind appeared again and seemed to come a little closer to follow them around the turn, but once turned it again seemed in no hurry.

It was a perfect night for a drive. Elizabeth felt as though she did not want it to end, but she was jolted into reality by a cramp shooting up her left leg.

“Ow!” she exclaimed softly, still aware of the sleeping children.

“What’s the matter?” asked Mark.

“Cramp,” she replied shortly. “Got to stop.”

She put on the indicator, slowed down and pulled over onto the grassy verge, watching that there was no ditch at the side. As she did so the car that had been following them also pulled over and came and parked behind them.

“Funny!” said Elizabeth, massaging her leg. “Wonder what they want.”

A door opened and the driver got out and came towards them.

“Is it locked?” asked Mark, at the same time locking his own door. As Elizabeth checked the lock on her door the other driver came around to Mark’s side of the car. He had a large torch with him, and by its light they could see that it was a policeman. Mark rolled down the window a short way and the man looked in.

“What’s the trouble?” he asked. It was a reasonable question. They were pulled up on a grass verge in a deserted country lane without street lights at nearly 10 o’clock at night.

“I just got a cramp in my leg,” Elizabeth explained. “We won’t stop long.”

The policeman seemed to be taking in all the details of themselves and the car. He peered over Mark’s head into the back where the sleeping children were just visible as lumpy packages.

“What have you got in the back?” he asked and turned his torch to give himself a better view.

“Oh, please don’t wake the children!” Elizabeth exclaimed, but it was too late. Three little heads popped up and three little faces, screwed up against the light, shone in the glow. The policeman looked disappointed.

“Oh, sorry,” he said. “I think I made a mistake,” and withdrawing his head quickly he disappeared back to his car.

Mark wound up his window and grinned.

“How many miles has he been following you?”

“About ten, I think,” Elizabeth replied.

“Well I think by now his quarry is far away and laughing up his sleeve. We couldn’t have been better decoys if he had paid us – loot and all!”

“Well I hope the loot will go back to sleep,” Elizabeth said as she started the engine.