While I slept, and after answering the questions put to me in the night by the plain clothes plods, things were happening at home.
My parents were contacted, don't ask me how the police knew, I guess I may have told them, but don't know. They had to go to my house but stay back till told what to do. Omg, the worst thing was my parents getting in on all this!!
They arrived to find the whole house surrounded by cops, some armed I think they said. My kids were inside with Mike, this is the worst of it, my kids getting caught up in all this shit. The police gained entry, some going over the wall at the back to stop Mike escaping, some going in the front door. He was standing by the sink in the kitchen, they rushed and grabbed him, handcuffing him and dragging him out. As any self respecting alcoholic would, he made a grab for his coat pocket on the way out in the vain hope of catching hold of the last of his cheap British sherry. He failed. They took him in to the cells and he was the knob head kicking his door and keeping me awake!
Back at the house, we'd been having wiring done, so some of the kitchen floor boards were up, there were bills heaped up on the side, the police searched everywhere. They eventually left.
Can't say how hard that was to write, knowing what my kids went through, not just then but every other sodding drunken night! If anyone reads this and has problems with drink, please get help, try to stop, don't wait till you've ruined and wasted lives.
Right, back at the cop shop, morning has come and I'm in the interview room.
Questioning: Have you got money problems, how bad are they? Showed me the notes about guns and bank vaults, asking me why I had them and had I been to the vault, did I have a gun? Why were there newspapers in my car and old overalls? All very innocent answers but you try telling them that!!
Mike had the same questions but of course he had form so they were less believing of him. In the end their enquiries led nowhere and they had to believe us and let us go.
They were actually not bad, and said we had a great family and to get the drink sorted out. I so wished we had. We walked out free, but dirty and grimy and hung over. We put off having a drink till later, we had to face the kids, that was worse than the police any day.
Today, I'm sober, so is Mike.
Maybe next time I'll tell of my Shirley Valentine trip. You try going to Greece with no passport and no money and stupidly drunk'