LOVE PROBABLY

26.

Any means are good to look at myself: a shop window, the window of a parked car, a bus shelter… I like the reflection of this pretty woman walking her dog: me! Straight, proud, slender… I smile to myself and let Romeo guide me to his home. I internally thank him for taking his time (thus allowing me to control my swaying walk), for stopping every two seconds to sniff a pole, spray another… I just pray that he doesn’t make a big errand. I don’t feel like picking up his droppings at all.

It seems to me that we’re completely lost. I’m probably very stupid to bet on Romeo’s flair to take us home, but who cares! I wander around London like a real city dweller. The weather’s nice. I feel beautiful. Nothing will affect my morale. On these positive thoughts, I don’t see that a man has been following us for a while. It’s Romeo who gives me the alert, growling.

“Miss! Police!” yells the man.

But who is he talking to? He’s not even in a police uniform. I look around and I happen to be alone apart from the dog which, to my knowledge, isn’t a lady. So with a very slow movement, I raise my index finger in my direction, as if in slow motion, implying Who, me?

“Yes, you! Your ID!”

I don’t obey. But who does he think he is?

“Can I see your card?” I ask calmly.

I hear a growl coming from behind my back and without understanding anything, I find my arms pinned by a woman who thinks she’s a wrestler. Romeo starts barking like a madman, but the man apprehends him without much difficulty.

“When you are asked for your ID, you give your ID! Is that clear?” shouts the female cop who puts the handcuffs on behind my back.

“Let me tell you, you’re making a big mistake!”

“We’ll see! Come on, let’s take her to the station.”

“But but…”

“You don’t have to say anything. But, it may harm your defence if you don’t mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.” she said.

“But I told you that I…”

I didn’t finish because now she’s pushing me into the back seat of an unmarked car, her hand resting on my head, ruining Pamela’s magnificent hairstyle in the process. “And make yourself useful!” she said to her colleague. “Put the dog in the trunk!”

This is surely a misunderstanding. I don’t know who they take me for but it’s certain, I’m the victim of a big, yes, a very big mistake. If I come out unscathed, I’ll file a complaint. Besides, I’ll already be there, at the police station. This will not end well. No, but oh!

In shock, I no longer know what to think.

I try to see if my hairstyle has held up in the rearview mirror and I meet the policeman’s gaze. He smiles at me. I note in passing that he has beautiful green eyes. There’s always a good guy in a team. Unquestionably, it’s he who has this role. His colleague bellows into a cell phone:

“Yeah, we caught her! We’ll arrive at the station in three minutes. I’ll take care of her case personally,” she said, glaring at me.

“Hey, Laurene, take it easy anyway. She looks terrified, the little one.”

“Terrified? Little? I’m one-metre sixty-six! Well, I think. It’s been a long time since I’ve been measured. However, he’s not completely wrong, I’m so shocked that no sound can come out of my mouth. Rosie must be worried sick. It’s been at least a good two hours since we left her home.

Distraught, tears welling up in my eyes, I say a quick prayer to Mom. May she get me out of this mess. The only positive point in this story is the whirlwind tour of the streets of London. The sirens howl and the car goes at top speed. So now, it’s no longer a question of the Highway Code, huh? The swerves make me move side to side on the back seat. This behaviour is going to make me sick. Ah… Obviously, one of us has just let loose. A smell of poop invades the cabin.

“Damn, she did it in her pants!” said the policewoman, lowering the front windows of the vehicle. “We’re going to die of asphyxiation, here!”

“Hey, it’s not me! It’s the dog… You’re stressing it out!” I shouted, regaining the use of speech.

“We just have to throw it in the Thames? Hey, what do you think, Damien?” she asks her colleague who has blocked his nose.

“I hope you’re joking!” I said.

“Of course, she’s joking... Don’t mind her. Laurene has a special sense of humour!”

“As if I could throw a mutt into the Thames. I swear…” she mutters. “You can’t even laugh in this world anymore!”

Poor Romeo. Will he recover from this terrible experience? Will I…?