Free The Midden by Tom Sharpe

regular classes in Self-Defence for

Senior Citizens and Persons of the Female Gender. These are available at '
    'Fuck off, you bitch,' shouted the Chief Constable and slammed the phone down. A new and even

more awful possibility had just entered his mind. Vy and a young man in bed...A toyboy! He had to

think of some way of stopping scores of policemen converging on the house in which he had almost

certainly murdered his wife's lover. But first he had to find a way of turning that infernal

siren off. Livid with a fresh terror he dashed back across the hall to the kitchen in search of

the fuses and was blundering about in the pantry where they had been. The fucking things had been

moved. That Vy and her electricians. And what was the point of having Emergency Services if you

couldn't get through to the sods. The other inhabitants of the house weren't helping. As he

turned back towards the study with the intention of blasting that bleeding siren on the roof into

silence with his shotgun he came face to face with Auntie Bea.
    'Has something dreadful happened?' she enquired, at the same time studying his anatomy with

only slight interest and considerable disgust. 'I thought I heard shots and then all those

incredible lights came on and that dreary siren. Can't you switch it off?'
    'No,' said the Chief Constable. 'And nothing serious has happened.'
    'Well, I certainly can,' said Auntie Bea. Behind her in the study the phone had begun to ring.

For a moment they grappled in the doorway and then the Chief Constable broke loose and hurried to

the study. In the kitchen Bea found the mains switch and the siren wailed down. She came back

with the housekeeper and stood in the study doorway. The Chief Constable had answered the

phone.
    'This is Harry Hodge, the Deputy Chief Constable here,' said a strangely controlled voice.
    'I know that. I know exactly who it is,' Sir Arnold yelled back.
    'Good, good,' said the voice, still exercising an unnerving calm. 'Are you all right? I

repeat, are you all right? Take your time replying.'
    Sir Arnold didn't. It was bad enough standing in the study bollock naked with a middle-aged

woman in a startling kimono staring at him and at the blood on the floor...'Of course I'm fucking

well all right. The button got pressed accidentally is all.'
    'Good, very good,' said the Deputy Chief Constable, maintaining his cool. 'I quite understand.

Now are you all right? I repeat, are you all '
    'Listen, Hodge, what do you mean you understand? I'm standing here starkers and you...' Here

he turned on Auntie Bea. 'Fuck off, for Chrissake.'
    'Try and keep calm,' said the wretched Hodge in the same nerveless tone. 'Everything is under

control. Now then. Are you all right? I repeat '
    'You ask me again if I'm all right, Hodge, and so help me God I'll break your fucking neck.

I've told you I don't know how many times I'm all right. How many more times have I got to tell

you?'
    Over the line he could hear the Deputy Chief Constable asking more or less the same question.

Sir Arnold remembered the drill. 'Hodge,' he said, with a new controlled calm that was as

peculiar in its own way as that of his Deputy, 'Hodge, I am all right. I repeat, I am all right.

Repeat. I am all right.'
    'Well, that's all right then,' said Hodge almost regretfully. 'It was a false alarm then?

Shall I call off the QRS lads?'
    'The who?' The past few minutes had slowed the Chief Constable still further.
    'The Quick Response Squad,' Hodge said, a new doubt creeping back into his voice.
    'Those swine?' yelled the Chief Constable. 'Of course call them off at once. Why do you think

I phoned you?'
    'Phone me, sir? Phoned me? I don't want to question your judgement at a time like this but in

actual fact I phoned you. Are you sure you are quite all right?'
    The Chief Constable made a supreme effort. 'Hodge, please believe me when I say I am perfectly

all right, all right, all right. Got it? I am