Anyway the telly would be on and we'd probably be watching Top Gear. My
husband knew a lot about motors. We never could afford a new motor
ourselves but my husband knew how to pick a good secondhand one. We
mostly had Vauxhall Astras they never let us down. They used to sell off
the old police Astras you see. They'd give them a respray but if the
light was right you could always see POLICE showing out from under the
paint job. I suppose a thing can never really change its nature Osama.
Anyway we'd be watching Top Gear and the phone would go and my husband
would put his plate down on the sofa and take the phone next door. He
wasn't supposed to tell me anything about the job but when he came back
through the lounge there was one sure way to tell if it was serious.
They always knew which were the real bombs and which were most probably
just hoaxes. If it was a hoax my husband would sit back down on the sofa
and gobble the rest of his chicken kiev before he left the flat. It took
him only 30 secs but he never did that if it was serious. When it was
serious he just picked up his jacket and walked straight out.
When it was serious I used to wait up for him. Our boy would be asleep
so there was only the telly to take my mind off things. Not that it ever
would of course. After Top Gear there was Holby City and then it would
be Newsnight. Holby made you nervous about death and chip pan fires and
Newsnight made you nervous about life and money so between the both of
them they could get you in a right state and leave you wondering why you
bothered with the licence fee. But I had to keep the telly on in case
anything happened and there was a news flash.
So I used to just sit there Osama watching the telly and hoping it would
stay boring. When your husband works in bomb disposal you want the whole
world to stay that way. Nothing ever happening. Trust me you want a
world run by Richard & Judy. At night I always watched the BBC. I never
watched the other side because I couldn't stand the adverts. A woman
with nice hair telling how this or that shampoo stops split ends. Well.
It made me feel a bit funny when I was waiting to see if my husband had
got himself blown up. It made me feel quite poorly actually.
There's a lot of bombs in London these days Osama on account of if
you've got a message for the nation then it's actually quite hard to get
on Richard & Judy so it's easier just to stick a few old nails and bolts
into a Nike bag of fertiliser. Half the poor lonely sods in town are
making a bomb these days Osama I hope you're proud of yourself. The
coppers make 4 or 5 of them safe every week and another 1 or 2 go off
and make holes in people and often as not it's the coppers on the scene
who get the holes put in them. They don't show it on the news anymore on
account of it would give people the screaming abdabs. I'm not big on
numbers Osama but once late at night I worked out the odds on my husband
getting blown up one day and ever since then I had the screaming abdabs
all on my own. It was practically a dead cert I swear not even Ladbrokes
would of taken your money.
Sometimes the sun would be up before my husband came home. The breakfast
show would be on the telly and there'd be a girl doing the weather or
the Dow Jones. It was all a bit pointless if you ask me. I mean if you
wanted to know what the weather was doing you only had to look out the
window and as for the Dow Jones well you could look out the window or
you could not. You could please yourself because it's not as if there
was anything you could do about the Dow Jones either way. My whole point
is I never gave a monkey's about any of it. I just wanted my husband
A Man Called Intrepid author dies aged 89(Dec 03 2013) William Stevenson, a journalist and author who drew on his close ties with intelligence sources to write two best-selling books in the 1970s, A Man Called...