Free Bonjour Cherie by Robin Thomas Page A

to do. It would be so unfair and I didn’t even know him that well. I heard the dog next door starting to bark and a flurry of bats fly screeching from the banana trees at the side of the house. That decided it. Instinct took over. He had called me and texted me once, so his number was in my phone. I punched it in.
    â€˜Hello,’ a sleepy voice said after a few rings.
    â€˜Zach, it’s Beth.’ Even to my ears my voice sounded shaky.
    â€˜Beth?’ No wonder his voice sounded unbelieving.
    â€˜I … I’m sorry to disturb you but I think a burglar is in the house, and—’
    â€˜Now? Have you called the police?’ His voice became urgent.
    â€˜Yes, they’re on their way, I hope soon. But I’m really scared in case they don’t get here in time. And, I didn’t know who else to call.’
    â€˜Where are you?’
    â€˜I’m locked in my bedroom.’
    â€˜Stay there. I’m on my way.’
    I felt better, still scared, but better. Zach was on his way and somehow that was a great comfort. I crept back to the bedroom door, torch in hand, feeling more confident. After all help was coming.
    There were still no sounds. Perhaps this was the quietest burglar, or he had already taken what he wanted and left. I thought of Mum’s good jewelry in her bedroom and the stash of money Dad kept in his bedside drawer in case of emergencies. It occurred to me that, as a family, we weren’t all that security conscious.
    I waited, crouched against the door for what seemed like ages. Then I heard a car pull up outside. Zach or the police? If it was the police, they weren’t using their siren. Perhaps they didn’t want to scare the burglar off. Oh God, maybe it was the burglar’s accomplice, who had come to help him in a getaway car? That sent me into another panic attack.
    But then I heard footsteps come up the steps to the verandah and someone pounding on the door, calling out, ‘Police, anyone there?’
    â€˜Yes, I’m here in the bedroom.’ What? Did they expect me to come out with a burglar on the loose?
    â€˜Open the door, please.’
    Taking a deep breath, I inched the bedroom door open and peered down the hallway. No one was there. I scurried down the hallway to the front door and flung it open. Two burly policemen greeted me.
    â€˜We had a call about intruders, ma’am,’ one of them said.
    â€˜I heard a crashing sound and glass splintering. There must be someone here, unless they’ve already escaped. You took a while to get here.’ My tone was accusing. I looked around. Where was the burglar hiding?
    At that moment a black ute pulled up and Zach jumped out, covering the ground to the front steps more quickly than I imagined was possible. The two officers spun around, hands on their guns.
    â€˜No, it’s okay. He’s a friend. I called him.’
    They relaxed, slightly. By now Zach was on the verandah beside me. ‘Beth, are you okay.’
    I am, now you’re here , I thought. But I said, ‘I’m okay, but I think the burglar must have escaped.’
    Zach looked around and then walked down the length of the verandah to the corner of the house. ‘Come and have a look at this,’ he said.
    The two policemen followed him and I trailed behind, still feeling a little jumpy. The lead glass lantern that Mum had insisted on buying because it gave a certain old world charm to our house, lay shattered over the verandah, and beside it was a broken pot plant.
    Zach looked at the police, who came to the same conclusion as he did. ‘Possums,’ said the older guy.
    â€˜Sure looks like it,’ said the other one.
    â€˜We’ll do a search of the house, just to make sure. But, I’ve seen this before. Possums can make a lot of noise and do a lot of damage. Must have jumped from your roof onto the light here and knocked it over. That was probably the glass you heard splintering.