'May I Use Your Bathroom?'

‘May I use your bathroom?’

I should have known better. I’ve watched enough crime dramas – from Midsummer Murders to Line of Duty. The ‘may I use your bathroom?’ request or variations of it are never prompted by the need to powder a red nose, or to pee or to poo. Rather, whilst her or his partner-in-law keeps the suspect talking, the junior officer, detective, private dick (insert most appropriate descriptor) rummages in underwear drawers, checks computer files or even fishes around in toilet cisterns. What they never, ever do is urinate, defecate or tidy up their’ face or hair. To keep up the pretence they generally flush and briefly run a tap. An avid viewer with, I like to think, a critical mind, I’ve never understood how the long minutes spent away doesn’t give the game away; absent as they are for at least enough time to read a couple of book chapters or knit an inch or two of a scarf.

Yet, I fell for it.

Complacent or stupid? You decide.

The thing is.

I. Did. It.

It’s a fair cop.

Guilty as charged.

Banged to rights.

And to make matters worse the evidence was there. Not quite in plain sight but easy enough to find. But even when I heard the gasp I didn’t fear the worst. For after all how many times does all the sneaky searching produce results? Not often. The cops, or similar, generally leave without the evidence they need. The puzzle of the crime unsolved. Leaving the audience guessing until at least a ways through the show, sometimes even beyond the final credits.

Sadly, I was not so lucky.

Our downstairs loo is close to the kitchen. So not far for the snooper to travel. She must have opened and closed the lid of the bin very carefully as it usually shuts with a clatter. They’ve done this before I soon realise. An effective, investigative team. The tea drinker stops with the incessant, distracting chatter as the other woman enters the room.

Three pairs of eyes look towards the mantelpiece where my shiny new trophy presides.

SPRING FAYRE

1^st PRIZE

Victoria Sponge Category

In unison we shift our gaze to the second judge’s left hand as she holds high a Tesco Finest Victoria (‘intensively fruity seeded raspberry jam’) Sponge cake-box.