The Battle of Britain

Last Friday night was a night like many other Friday nights that are common in the Holley household during these times. The wind was mildly wisping from a south, south-east direction and the darkness had made itself welcome on Manchester Rd. Not the band, but the part of the day that follows the afternoon and early evening. Claire and I had settled the kids to sleep finally, and sat down to watch Jonathan Ross. Claire fell asleep, and eventually at the big hour of midnight that was enough, and like the runner-up of an endurance contest we took ourselves up to bed.

Then, all of a sudden, I was alarmed to hear some raised voices in the street outside. I quickly raced to the window (one step from bed) and looked out at the mystery scene that awaited me. Four blokes walking to the east suddenly turned around and started tracking back towards the west, shouting abuse at an unknown recipient. All of a sudden one broke from the formation, running at the target, and when reaching the target began to knock him over and proceed kicking him on the ground.

It did not look like it was one of these travelling minstrel shows that tour the country putting on impromptu shows for their supper. Nor did it resemble the meeting of two old friends. It looked very similar to a scene taken from the musical “Italia ’90 – The Fans Fight Back”, and this similarity became closer when the three amigos that were a bit slow in the initial confrontation joined in taking on all comers.

Just as I was trying to commentate on the display of one-sided pugilism to Claire, and also thinking how handy it would be to have a red phone that connected me direct to Commissioner Gordon, the Boys in Blue turned up. Screeching around the corner with the Fanfair of the Sirens blaring out, the scene became one of chaos. The brave foursome that had obviously started the proceedings were well versed in this particular melody, because when hearing it they all tried to run off and hide somewhere. Two of which went down the side of our house, hoping for a Bat cave to appear out of our gable wall. When realising that the wall was pretty solid, they both turned around and then ran over the road to the alley opposite us. Thus escaping the long arm of the law, that actually wasn’t very long at all.

But the Police, like the Canadian Mounties, had their man. I could not tell if it was the first of the Famous Four, or another one of the supporting cast, but they did not seem happy. The Police, however, did seem happy. If there is a pet hate that any Officer harbours around the world is the feeling of going back to the station to fill out a desk load of paperwork without the inside glow of another job well done.

So, the scene began to calm down and the truncheons were re-sheathed. And after a couple of eyewitness reports were jotted down, everyone went back to have a post game drink of tea and discuss the possible winners and losers.

But, this event has spurred me on to want to move house more than ever. Not that my wanting to move house will actually move it on any quicker, but at least it will add to my frustration of not being able to sell my house. Running street battles outside your house is fairly high on the list of reasons to move.

Pete, Claire’s brother, has also travelled back from the US to visit us this week. This is nice, as he last saw us a couple of years ago, and since then we have been married and had two children. There is no worse a moment than, when you meet someone that you have not seen for a number of years and asked, “What have you been up to?” you can only shrug your shoulders and look vacantly at the speaker. It makes you feel that you have not contributed anything to your life in those years, and that you may as well have said that you had been in prison for the product that you had produced.

This was avoided though, and pleasing it was to be able to talk through the events of our life that had been missed by both parties either side of the Atlantic. The only problem is that the next time we meet we will have set a standard, and nothing less than a par performance will be satisfactory.

Also, nice for Dylan and Sophie to see their Uncle Pete and cry at him for a couple of days. But for a man that would admit himself that he does not specialise in childcare, he has taken to the task with grace and composure, and I am sure that one day the kids will pick up some valuable lessons from him.

Before I go, I nearly forgot the next edition to the Hospital saga. Sophie picked up a water infection, and also caught Bronchalitis last week, and had to remain in hospital for a few days to be monitored. She is perfectly well now, and is on the road to recovery. However, she is on anti-biotics that have turned her waste into a crayon type colour of blue and green. It does not look right, and the sooner they pass through the system the better for all concerned.

Both are now eating solids, to a degree, and they are making big improvements to the way they interact with us. Hopefully soon they can master the can opener, and the kettle, so that Claire and I can go out for five minutes.