Be Sure Your Sins will.......

Long ago on my way to school I passed every morning the local Methodist Church. It had a short garden in front of it and in the centre of the garden dominating the entire site was a huge notice board. Upon that notice board, every week, on a Monday morning, there would appear the text for the week in bright red letters. "Cleanliness is next to Godliness" I was assured or "The Wages of Sin are Death". But the one that stuck in my young mind more than any other read "Be Sure Your Sins Will Find You Out"….they always seemed to. Many years later that text came home to roost…….Here's how

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They just didn't know! and the astonishing thing is, they never found out. The war had finished and we were now allowed to play out until quite late…well it was double summertime and how could anyone sleep with the broad daylight still streaming in through the windows? But old habits die hard and we still had to tell our parents where we were going and with whom. Most times we didn't really know where we were going so we invented a place that we all told our parents we were going to, and it was so plausible that they all believed it existed. Number 37 Kilowen Road. Allan lived there...There was no Allan and there was no 37 Kilowen Road. The houses stopped at number 35

Ours was the next street and in most respects was the same, the only difference was that Kilowen Road ended with a long gently curving crescent that before the war had beautiful wrought iron railings around it, but was now just long green grass and large trees, spoiled somewhat by the ugly Morrison Shelter in the middle of it. The last house on one side was number 35 and the other 34, both adjoined corner houses to the Crescent.

The house on the corner of The Crescent had been hit by an incendiary bomb early in the War. Whilst the damage was slight compared to much of the rest of the area, it was bad enough to cause the evacuation of the occupants. So far they hadn't moved back in. The same bomb had caused a section of the wall that separated the house in The Crescent and the empty number 35 Kilowen Road to collapse, allowing access to both gardens, a haven for us in the summer. Apple and pear trees provided us with fruit and the unwritten rules of going into the garden prevented any fighting or unpleasantness. So when asked by our parents "Where are you lot off to?" we would all answer. "Allan's house, 37 Kilowen Road." the information would be accepted with a standard "Well behave yourselves and don't be home too late". They never did find out that there was no 37 Kilowen Road.

Years later my wife and I had been to a fancy dress party in London and on our way home to Hertfordshire passed the Crescent now resplendent with replaced flower beds, neatly manicured grass, and even more plane trees and flowering shrubs The iron railings hadn't been replaced but the Morrison Shelter was long gone. Though it was in the early hours of the morning the lights were blazing through the windows of the house on the corner of the Crescent and Kilowen Road. It occurred to me that the house was now what any estate agent would describe as a very desirable town house and I was reminded of the times I had spent in the garden there. Were the apples still as tasty? Did the pears still slurp when you bit into them? It all flooded back. Smiling, I told my wife of my boyhood activities. She, very properly, asked me how I would feel if our children were as deceitful as I had been. Food for thought!

By now we had reached the junction of Cassland Road and Wick Road a very busy junction in daytime but at this time in the morning deserted or so I thought, and for a brief second I took my eye from the road to glance at my wife…was she joking or scolding?...and I ran across a red light.

Of course, if it had been anyone else jumping the lights at that time no one would have seen them, certainly not a policeman who just happened to be passing the corner. But a Policeman there was…he arrived on the corner at the very moment I passed the red light…and of course he waved me down. I felt very nervous and thought of all the clever remarks that others had said they made when stopped by a policeman, but I didn't fancy a night in the local nick and I knew I hadn't a good excuse for passing the light. I decided simply to admit my mistake and hope he would take a lenient view. After all it was one o’clock in the morning and there was no traffic about.
"Would you mind stepping out of the car please sir?" said the policeman. I did so deeply resenting the look on the constable's experienced face.
"Would you mind just blowing into this bag sir please?" he said it politely...but was he trying hard not to smile? I could see nothing funny at all. I was highly embarrassed by the whole thing. I blew into the tester and he told me I was OK.....I knew I must be, I hadn't had a drop all evening much to my extreme irritation.

The Policeman produced his notebook and explained that I had crossed a red light contrary to the traffic regulations of 19......and could I please show him my driver's licence. I hadn't brought it with me. So, would I please give him my name? I did. He asked me for my address...I told him 37 Kilowen Road. Don't ask me why; I just said it......Yes, yes yes, I know I shouldn't have but I did.
"Did you say 37 Kilowen Road sir?" he asked. "Number 37? You did say number 37 didn't you?"
I nodded dumbly.
"That's funny Sir" he went on. "I used to play in their garden when I was a small boy." My heart sank....the game was up. It was only a short way to the police station. The rest of the night shift all had broad grins on their faces as I was cautioned to produce my documents in the Police Station of my home-town. I did of course the next day.

The desk sergeant made all the necessary notes and with a grin handed my documents back to me.
"Did you enjoy the fancy dress ball"?" he enquired. "Must have been a bit warm in the White Rabbit's outfit!" Still smarting from the whole embarrassing affair I grinned weakly and fled the Police Station. I didn't think it funny at all. And please don't accuse me of not having a sense of humour…How would you feel standing in a police station at one o'clock in the morning dressed as a white rabbit? I tell you I have gone off of fancy dress parties in a big way. As I drove away from the Police Station I passed the local Methodist Church…..yes it did have a notice board outside but there was no message on it…It wasn't necessary they'd made their point a long time ago.

P.S. Alice wasn't very amused either and, during every disagreement since, reminds me of it even now some twenty years later. Ah well you can't win them all!