Garage

Copyright oggbashan April 2023

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

"Good afternoon, John. You going to use that?"

I was standing in the open doorway at the back of my garage examining a bill hook I had just been cleaning. The winter sun was about to move off the door and I was using it to see any tiny rust spots I might have missed.

My garage was on a back access track that led behind the street of houses but was rarely used. It and the wooden garages had been built in the 1930s for Austin 7 cars or motorcycle combinations. The track was too narrow for a modern car to access a garage, even if there had been any original garages left from the 1930s.

When my grandfather's street had been built as a cul-de-sac (dead end street) in the late 1960s, the developers should have widened the access track. They didn't. They put garages beside the front of the houses.

My garage had been my grandfather's man cave and was a precast concrete one for two cars, yet no car had ever been in it. He had used it as his woodworking shop and den, equipped with minimal cooking facilities and a toilet. My grandmother had used the front parlour of the house as her area to do sewing and entertain her friends. Whenever she did, grandfather would retreat to his garage, often with his ancient friends.

My grandfather hadn't been fit enough to maintain the garden in his later years and it was overgrown. I had inherited the house last autumn and my project for Spring was to bring the garden back to a tidy condition.

As part of my inheritance, I had my father's garden tools that hadn't been used for at least five years. The bill hook might help me to clear the brambles, but my next tool to renovate was an ex-Army Machete, a souvenir of grandfather's time with the Chindits in Burma.

"Yes, Harry, Next weekend, weather permitting." I replied. "The back garden is a mess."

"I know. Some of us helped to keep the front garden tidy, but your grandfather kept his gates locked and we couldn't get around the back."

"Thank you, Harry, and the others. I hope to sort out the back before the end of the Spring."

Harry went off pushing his wheelbarrow with rubbish to load in his car and go to the tip.

I had already sharpened the machete on the grinding wheel, but I was honing it with a handheld stone, standing in the weak sunlight.

Suddenly, from a garden a few doors down, a petite woman ran out. She saw me and ran towards me. Her blouse was torn, showing her bra, and she was holding the remains of her skirt around her.

"John, can you hide me, please?" She gasped.

I stood aside and let her enter the garage. I was surprised she knew my name. I didn't recognise her.

"There's a toilet at the back. You can hide in there and bolt the door," I said.

I heard her bolt the door.

A man emerged from the same garden holding a sledgehammer. He ran towards me.

"Has a woman just run past?" He asked.

"No," I said. After all, she hadn't run past me.

He lifted the sledgehammer. I raised my machete.

"That's a dangerous weapon," he said.

"Perhaps," I replied. "But I'm on my property with a garden tool. It was my grandfather's. He used to shave with it as a party trick. Now I've finished sharpening it, so could I."

He looked as if he was considering using the sledgehammer, but my machete deterred him. He gave me a dirty look and walked back the way he had come. I stood watching him until he went around the bend in the track towards the road.

I shut the heavy door behind me and put the two locking bars in place. Like his neighbours my grandfather had improved the security on his garage after a spate of break-ins about a decade ago. All sides of the garage were covered by CCTV, and my encounter with him, and the woman's arrival would have been recorded in colour and stereo sound.

I went across to the toilet and knocked on the door.

"He's gone," I said. "Are you OK?"

She unbolted the door and came out.

"I'm OK, thank you, John, but I'm worried about my grandparents. He broke down the front door. My grandfather stood in his way as I ran for it."

"Where do your grandparents live?"

"Number 18. And this is?"

"Number 24. I'll go and see if they're OK."

"I'd be worried if you left me."

"You'll be safe in my house. There is a panic room on both floors. My grandparents had them installed after a burglar broke in eight years ago and threatened them with a knife. Come on."

I took her up the garden and through the kitchen door which I locked and bolted behind us. The back of the rear living room was now a panic room. I took her in there and showed her how to lock herself in. There were several CCTV monitors mounted on the wall. The room was equipped with a basic kitchen, a toilet and washroom, and a bed. I opened a wardrobe and pulled out a suitcase.

"This contains my ex-girlfriend Mary's clothes. You might find something to fit even if they are too large. While you're in here I'll check on your grandparents. OK?"

"Yes, thank you."

I went out of my front door. I could see four elderly couples standing on the pavement outside number 18 and could hear shouting from inside. I ran to the front door which has been smashed. As I went past one elderly man shouted at me:

"We've called the police, John. They should be here in five minutes."

I went into the hall. The man I had seen earlier was shaking an older man and screaming at him:

"Where's she gone? You must know."

The elderly man's wife was ineffectually beating at him with her fists and shouting:

"He doesn't know!"

I caught the man by his left shoulder and swung him around. I hit him hard in the solar plexus and as he doubled up, I followed my punch with hitting him on the chin. He went down as if poleaxed and lay on the floor unmoving.

"OK," I said. "She's OK. She's in my house. Go and make cups of tea for yourselves. I'll make sure he is still here when the police arrive."

The man was still shaking. His wife said:

"Thank you, John. We will."

She pulled her husband towards the kitchen.

The man I had hit was still unconscious when the police arrived.

"Who is he?" A policeman asked.

"I don't know. He was chasing a woman and then attacked those I assume are her grandparents until I hit him. The old couple might know. They are in the kitchen."

"But I know," the policewoman said. "This is Jason Reed. He has an injunction not to come anywhere near the woman he has been stalking, nor her parents or grandparents."

She entered Jason's details on her phone.

"OK Fred," she said. "Apart from now, breaching an injunction, criminal damage, assault and possession of an offensive weapon, he is wanted on warrant for failure to appear in court, is a banned driver -- I assume here by car?"

"I wouldn't know. I only saw him on foot."

I explained about the woman sheltering in my house.

"OK, Mr Symonds, I'll come with you," the policewoman said.

"You know my name?" I was surprised.

"Yes. Everyone in the street knows who you are. All the rest are the original owners from when the houses were built."

Jason started to stir. The policemen knelt down beside him, pulled his arms behind his back and put handcuffs on Jason before reading his rights. Jason wasn't really aware where he was.

Back at my house, the policewoman shouted through the door of the panic room.

"Angela! This is the Police. Jason is under arrest. You can come out."

When Angela emerged, she was wearing one of my ex-girlfriend's t-shirts that almost fell to her knees, and a denim skirt trailing on the floor. The incongruity of her clothes made me smile. She noticed and grinned back.

"Thank, John," Angela said, "but Mary was very large wasn't she?"

"Mary is nearly six feet tall, but at least you are decent."

Angela swirled the skirt.

"If I had been her size Jason wouldn't be a threat."

"He wouldn't have been to Mary. Apart from her size, she is a Karate instructor." I said.

"And Jason isn't a threat to anyone now." The policewoman said. "John hit him just twice and he was unconscious on the floor."

"Good. Thank you, John. How are my grandparents?"

"I think they are a bit shocked and shaken but not hurt. I arrived too soon for Jason."

"Can you two come back to Angela's grandparents' house, please? Jason should be gone but we need statements from you both," the policewoman said.

Angela stood beside me and wrapped an arm around my waist.

"Even if Jason is still there, with John beside me, I'd be safe. Jason only hits little women and pensioners."

The policewoman looked up at me.

"I'm not surprised that you'll feel safe. John hit Jason only twice but Jason might have to go to hospital on the way to a police cell."

"Good." Angela said.

Jason had gone, cuffed to a stretcher in an ambulance.

The next hour was boring as all four of us, and the four neighbours gave statements. What made it tolerable was that Angela was sitting on my lap, her head nuzzled against my shoulder, and an arm around my neck. She wouldn't let me go. Jason had complained that I had threatened him with my machete. I had to prise Angela off to take the policeman to see my CCTV recording and the machete.

When I pulled the machete out of its sheath the policeman said:

"That's a very dangerous weapon, John."

"Is it? It is a very useful garden tool, and as you have seen from the CCTV I was on my property, holding it when Jason arrived with his sledgehammer."

"He claimed you threatened him with it..."

"Which the CCTV disproves. He raised the sledgehammer before I countered by raising the machete. But I wouldn't have used it. I didn't need to. I could have taken that sledgehammer from him and pushed the handle up... You know what I mean."

"Can we have a copy of the CCTV?"

"Of course, but it is also online, uploaded from all cameras in real time. Normally, I store it for a month, but I will archive this afternoon's events."

I wrote down the URL.

"What's the story with Angela and Jason, if you know?" I asked.

"I don't know the whole, but the outline is that Angela went out with Jason a couple of times before she decided that enough was enough. He reacted very badly and beat her up within minutes of her telling him it was over. That was in a restaurant and the other diners pulled him off her and called the police. He was arrested and while awaiting trial he started stalking her. He is one of a large family of petty criminals and his family had been stalking Angela too. It took her six months to get a comprehensive injunction against Jason and his family.

She had to move out of her flat and spent a few nights in a women's refuge before getting somewhere else to live. But Jason found out where she was about a month later and she had to move again, back to her parents.

Despite the injunction he attacked her outside that house and was arrested but bailed. He didn't turn up at court and a warrant had been issued for his arrest but that was six weeks ago."

"So, he's unlikely to be released when he is out of hospital?"

"No. He'll be at the magistrate's court tomorrow morning, and we hope he won't be bailed. We also have his car keys and CCTV of him driving up and getting out -- of a stolen, untaxed, uninsured and unroadworthy car. That will be added to the charges."

"Good. Angela? You're safe from him."

Angela was sitting on my lap with her head resting on my shoulder. Unlike Mary, she was half the weight and eight inches shorter. She seemed so small, but I was well aware that I had an attractive adult female on me. She snuggled closer to me.

"OK, John, but Jason's family are nearly as bad, particularly his brother Dwayne."

"Dwayne Reed?"

"Yes. He has been following me too, and reporting where I am to Jason."

"We've met. He didn't like our last encounter. I came out of a pub to see Dwayne hitting his wife. I told him to stop. He objected and punched me. I hit him back, but he was so high he didn't feel it. He tried to punch me again and I knocked him flying. He hit his head on the pub's wall and was unconscious. I called an ambulance but his wife, Nicola, attacked me for hitting Dwayne despite the fact that I had tried to stop him hitting her."

"What did you do to him, and her?"

"To Dwayne? I had broken his jaw and he had a superficial cut on the back of his head. To Nicola? Nothing. I just gave her a gentle bear hug. She couldn't do anything but started crying because my hug reminded her that Dwayne had hurt her. She needed the ambulance too for broken ribs, but the stupid woman has gone back to Dwayne."

"I feel safe in your arms, John." Angela said.

"How did you know who I was? You said my name when you ran up to me, but I didn't recognise you, Angela."

"You should, but I have changed my name and my appearance, John. I used to be Rose, actually my second name. Mary was one of my friends. I felt as safe with her as I am with you. But I had long blonde hair and wore blue-eyed contact lenses."

She pulled a pair of glasses out of her handbag and put them on. Her eyes were grey, and her hair was light brown, cut in a bob.

"I think I vaguely remember you as Rose, when you were friends with Mary. You would have been safe with Mary. Have you heard what she did in Bali?"

"Yes. That was typical of her."

"What did Mary do?" Angela's grandfather asked. I let Angela answer.

"Mary was with three female friends. They left a nightclub because they felt it was too rough. They were walking down a street beside a canal when six men ran up and tried to drag them into an alleyway. The other three fought back but Mary destroyed the men. All six were unconscious and the women were tying them up with spare pantyhose when the Police arrived to arrest the six men. Mary was thinking of throwing them in the canal, but the Police wouldn't allow that.

The women were annoyed because they had to stay in the country until the trial at which the men were convicted of several rapes of foreign women. As Mary left the court, one of the convicted men's brothers confronted her and threatened to 'get' her. She picked him up, shook him like a terrier with a rat, and then threw him away. Two policemen coming out of the court started beating him up with their truncheons. Mary pulled the policemen off because several TV news teams were recording everything. She posed with her arms around the shoulders of the two policemen who were much shorter than she is. That picture was on the front pages of most newspapers in Bali the next day."

"Mary appeared on an evening chat show," I added, "They set up a demonstration match with the local women's regional karate champion. It was embarrassing. Mary comprehensively thrashed her opponent. That wasn't really surprising. Mary was eighty pounds eavier, with a much longer reach, and at least two grades higher in the karate rankings."

"Mary was a sensation in Bali," Mary continued. "After the TV appearance she and her friends were invited to visit the premier karate school, not the women's section from where the regional champion had come, but the men's dojo.

Mary was asked to do a demonstration match with the best male student. After the formal gestures he attacked very fast, fists and feet flying. Mary didn't seem to move but he ended up winded on the floor. She did that to him three times before the Dojo master called a halt. She then thrashed the Dojo master too. That was not unexpected. She had a much higher grade in karate than even the master. She had a higher grade than anyone in the whole of Bali.

But Mary told me, that you, John, are far beyond her." Angela said.

"I am. I'm taller, heavier, stronger and at least another two grades higher in Karate. She has no chance against me."

"Which is why I feel safe from Jason or Dwayne with you."

Angela kissed me on the cheek.

We heard a noisy two-door car pulling up outside. I went to the front door. The elderly neighbours were still standing around in the street. Three of them had brought their cars to block the car front, back and side. Dwayne started to get out of the driver's door clutching a baseball bat, but I reached the car and slammed the door shut on his arm. That broke his wrist and forced him to drop the baseball bat. I opened the door again, switched the ignition off and took the keys before slamming the door again. None of the four occupants, all members of Dwayne's family, could get out of the car.

The police were back in under a minute, summoned by one of the neighbours. All four were arrested for attempted witness intimidation and for carrying dangerous weapons including two baseball bats and four large knives. The car was seized for not being taxed and with no insurance, and Dwayne was still serving a ban as a disqualified driver.

"John? I'm still worried. There are more of the family, and they will be furious that five have been arrested. I was staying in an Air B&B, all I could get at short notice. I was due to move on tomorrow."

"That's OK, Angela. Tonight? You can stay in my house in the upstairs panic room. Even if I'm not around they couldn't get at you, and the Police will be monitoring this street. You'll need to get some things from your place. I'll drive you there and back."

As we turned into her street there was another tatty car parked about two doors from Angela's house.

"That's Jason's uncle!" Angela exclaimed.

"OK. Leave him to me. Go and get your things."

I walked up to the car and knocked on the driver's window. He rolled the window down.

"What the fuck do you want?" he asked.

"You to go away," I replied. "You are in breach of a court order. I'll give you four choices. First. You drive away and don't come back, not you or any of your family. Two. I call the police and you are arrested. Three. I beat you up and call an ambulance. Four. I beat you up, call an ambulance AND the Police... Up to you."

He started the engine and drove away noisily. But I had a thought. My friend Giles owns the farm that surrounds most of the Travellers' site where the Reed and Reynolds have caravans. He might like to know that the five had been arrested.

I rang his mobile.

"Hello John. I was going to ring you."

I told him about the arrests.

"They have been given more charges since then, John. Yesterday I had a delivery of a new £150,000 harvester. While I was out at a farmer's union meeting last night, Dwayne and his brothers smashed their way into my farmhouse, threatened my wife with knives until she gave them the keys, ripped out the landline, smashed her mobile and left her tied up in the kitchen. The stupid arseholes weren't wearing masks or gloves and were recorded on multiple CCTV cameras. The harvester had three trackers, they found and disabled one but the other two show the harvester on the Reynolds/Reed part of the travellers' site.

I have asked the Police to help me recover it, but they can't come until tomorrow because there is a major rave a few miles away and they need many police before they will go on a travellers' site. They could come tomorrow but I'm worried that might be too late so I'm assembling my own mob. Can you come in about an hour, bringing some of your karate mates, and your wrecker?"

"My mates? I'll try. But why my wrecker?"

I have an Ex-US army WW2 armoured wrecker that I take to WW2 themed re-enactments. I often use it for other old vehicles that won't start. I had thought of removing the armour as it was very heavy at 20 tonnes, but I'd rather keep it as original.

"I want to block the access lane so that the harvester can't be spirited away. I have collected some rusty old farm machinery and a derelict diesel road roller. I'll need your wrecker for that because it weighs seven tons."