by Johanna Sugrue

Created on: July 26, 2008

The sun ain't shining anymore

It started out as a beautiful, summer morning. The sun was shining, the birds were singing their gay little tune, and everything was right in the world until all of a sudden, it was interrupted by the incessant ringing of the phone.

Feeling irritated, as the sound became louder, shattering my sense of well-being and spoiling the idyllic moment. As I walked towards the phone I fought the compulsion to either throw the handset or pull the wall plug out. It had become a constant and often unwelcome intrusion in my life.

Answering the phone I fought hard to keep the sound of irritation and even aggression out of my voice. What I really want to say was, "What the hell do you want and is it important?" A sense of well developed caution thankfully prevented this, so instead I spoke using my best professional neutral voice. "Hello, can I help?"

"It's Sergeant Richards from central police station, whom am I speaking to?" His voice was grave and gave me a sense of foreboding. I gave my name and attempted to take control of the conversation, light-heartedly added, "Which one have you got this time?" Silence followed.

Ignoring my question, he followed up my question with a question, "Is Carol Smitherson currently in your care and residing with you? I was confused, Carol was a rare foster placement, well behaved and never involved with the police.

"What's she done, are you holding her, do you need me to come down?" Silence. He repeated his previous question and then added, "Yes she is, but what's the problem?" I persisted. The silence that again followed, was loaded. Panic began to creep into my voice.

"Look I'm her carer, what's going on?" I heard my voice rise and sounding petulant. I swallowed, the bile rising in my throat.

"I'm dispatching two officers to your home to discuss the situation, they should be with you within ten minutes, and I assume you will be there? He sounded distant and formal. I knew he wanted to get off the phone, I could just tell.

"For goodness sake, what's so awful, you can't tell me on the phone?" Persisting in my questions, desperate to keep him talking. There was an edge to my voice, I wanted to shout, scream. "For f. sake, just tell me, but nothing came out. Awareness that my I wanted to pee, empty my bladder as the stress increased. Instead my voice squeaked out a desperate "Please, has something happened, I need to know."

"I'm sorry but I'm not at liberty to discuss it on the phone, the two officers will be with you shortly and they can brief you." His voice had finality about it; instinctively I knew he just didn't know how to hang up.

The ringing of the doorbell, interrupted both the conversation and my thoughts, as I ran down the front hall clutching the handset, I noticed the sun had ceased to shine and none of the birds were singing.

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