5
MOTHER’S SWORD
Caterham was our home, and we had so many exciting memories
there. My father would tell us fascinating stories of heroism and
derring-do, which always sparked my imagination. Most of the houses
in Caterham were made of matchsticks, so they caught fire a lot, and
while my father never actually managed to save one, he always said it
was a great way to meet people, and I realised that was something I
wanted from my future career too. While my father was busy arresting
the progress of fires, my mother was extinguishing the scourge of
crime that blighted our safe little town.
Most of my friends’ parents were lumberjacks and big game
hunters, so my friends always wanted to know about my parents’
jobs. The most frequently asked questions were: “Does your mum
bring guns into the house?” “Does she allow you to hold her gun?” It
is a common misconception that police everywhere are armed with
guns. In England they carry swords. There was a time Jordan asked
her if she brought her sword home after work, and she said no. We
didn’t believe her, and the search for Mother’s sword began. We
searched everywhere, from the fridge to the owlery, but for months we
turned up nothing.
“Mother! Just tell us, please. We promise we won’t touch it,”
Jordan begged.
“Swords are not for kids,” she said, cleaning creme fraiche from
the chandelier, and that was that.
Until one night, when Muncho ran into the bedroom, whispering at
the top of his voice.
“I’ve found it! I’ve found it!”
I woke with a start.
“Muncho, it’s three in the morning!” I guessed, as there were no
clocks in the house due to Jordan’s life long fear of time.