Old Habits Die Hard

Even for our lively suburb, gunshots were pretty unusual and was curious to find out what was going on

For once, I don't go outside to investigate the disturbance. Around here, it's peace and quiet on a Friday night that's a worry.

Loud, angry voices, the sound of bottles smashing and the screeching of car tyres are the norm.

Whatever made me choose this outlying suburb for my retirement? However quaint the old-fashioned cottages, and however interesting some of the inhabitants, it's on the news regularly for all the wrong reasons.

A police officer like me, with forty years of service under my belt, should've shown more common sense.

But I've always associated common sense with boredom.

I sip my beer. Tonight, my favourite team is playing. We've just scored a spectacular goal to level the score at one-all. I have no intention of budging for the next thirty minutes.

The shot rings out loud and clear.

I'm on my feet, peering through the windows to the street. Heart pumping, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

All thoughts of retirement vanish.

Silence.

The street is dark and empty, save for a few parked cars. No one is in sight.

My gaze scans the ground. No crumpled heap anywhere.

What's going on? A siren pierces the air. I heave a sigh of relief and slump into my armchair.