A Seal Pup in My Bath by Steve Greenhalgh

Author:Steve Greenhalgh [Steve Greenhalgh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781849018913
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2011-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

TEN

It was six months into my appointment as the Lancashire East inspector for the RSPCA and I was enjoying life. I’d got to know my patch, the branch members and the shelter staff and I felt I was gradually earning their trust and respect. Headquarters hadn’t complained about my paperwork, which was a bonus, and the house had been redecorated from top to bottom and all the necessary repairs completed.

Kathie had got a job with a local travel agent in Blackburn which suited her down to the ground so, at least for the time being, money wasn’t a problem. In fact, we even managed a two-week camping break in Folkestone at the beginning of August and had a great time with fine weather, good food and nothing at all to worry us. I vividly remember drinking an expensive Rioja on the beach under a hot sun, accompanied by locally caught prawns and fresh bread. It was that same afternoon that we heard on the radio, an old transistor of my parents’, that Richard Nixon had resigned over the Watergate scandal. It was hard to believe, then, that the President of the United States was actually a crook. Now, of course, it’s pretty much expected that politicians will be on the make every which way – a sad indictment of the state of public life. ‘Tricky Dicky’ turned out to be something of a trailblazer.

We’d been back home for only a few days after our holiday when I had a crash in the van. Ged had been busy in my area while I was away but, even so, quite a few jobs had piled up. My mind was preoccupied with them as I waited behind a smart red Ford Cortina at the traffic lights at Witton, Blackburn. The Cortina signalled left and started to turn in that direction. I intended to go straight on and set off behind him. Unfortunately, a stray dog shot in front of the Cortina, which suddenly came to a halt halfway through the manoeuvre. I piled into the back of him still accelerating. We got out of our vehicles and, much to my relief, neither of us was hurt – just shocked and shaken. Then we examined the damage to the Cortina and my van. The car, which had a towbar on the back, hadn’t suffered too much, though the boot was dented. My new van was a tangled mess at the front and the road was littered with bits of metal and broken glass.

As we were exchanging details a bobby arrived, took one look and confirmed my own opinion that my van could not be driven. He arranged for a recovery vehicle and I contacted our transport department which in those days was ably run by just one woman with a secretary. She swiftly arranged for a local garage to tackle the repairs. Suddenly, the bobby turned from recording the incident in his notebook and put me right on the spot.

‘Now then, Inspector Greenhalgh. You can either admit full responsibility for the accident or I shall have to report you.

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