Coming home on the bus, I glanced out of the window and noticed a big kick-off happening. Or rather, a group of teenagers beating another teenager with a stick. This was happening in the bus shelter and the nearby road of my bus stop, the last bus stop on the route. The driver hesitated to open his doors, but then, perhaps, realising that they were not interested in the bus, or because he could hear the police sirens arriving, did open them. Nevertheless, half the people, including myself, hung back on the bus. The other half rushed off, and away.
As I was finally getting off, I saw some plain clothes people leap out of an unmarked, but blued-and-twoed car, and run down the drive, and through the alleyway of the block of flats. One of the plain clothes officers was saying "Beep beep beep beep," like a small child playing at police. Everyone moved out of her way, though - presumably a tried and tested method. The uniforms arrived in a marked car. I didn't want to hang around, so crossed over the main road. A couple of teenagers who had been behind me on the stairs of the bus were moaning about people not getting off quickly enough. Silly things probably wanted to join in. As I was going into the newsagent, a police van arrived.
I conducted my business and went home. Through the car forecourt I saw a procession of teenagers coming out of the flats and side streets and make for the scene of the incident. I went upstairs and watched from my window. I was a little shaken when I saw an ambulance drive off, bluing-and-twoing, and a few minutes later the police van, in similar emergency mode.
Of course, if I had been a proper blogger, I would have grabbed my camera from my rucksack and snapped away. I didn't even look at my watch.
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