LOOKING FOR HER

                     LOOKING FOR HER

                                                  By

                                           Brian Hastie

“KNOW What?” I used to ring her at work her name was Leticia Ann Wilson. I met her when we danced at Michaels Nightclub in the town of Mount Lyle where she lived and I was working on the railways as a trainee engineman. After we got chatting, she told me that she was a switchboard operator with the railways at Mount Lyle where she answered the telephone and sent train movement and other messages on the teleprinter.

It wasn’t long after that I had to go to the Fireman’s school and learn the safe working aspects of being a fireman on both steam and diesel locomotives, and after the ten long week course I became qualified and was sent some 400 kilometres away and I tried to ring her from my new place of residence but I was told that Leticia had gone to the big city to work.

Leticia was 5.2” tall with auburn hair fair-skinned and a strong swimmer, whereas I am only 5.9” blondish brown hair and an average swimmer.

I tried to find out where she was working where she had moved to but it was to no avail.

The railways decided after ten years of my railway service that they were getting rid of both the Guard (Conductor in the USA) and the fireman and just leaving a single driver (Engineer in the USA) to operate the trains.

I decided to join the police force, in reality, it was so I could find out where Leticia was Living. I checked the electoral roll, (no computers) back in those days, and asked

other partners that I had worked for if they had ever heard of her or perhaps arrested her, but again it was useless.

Eventually, I was nominated for detective school and was posted to guess where? Mount Lyle, lucky me. I was in love with Leticia, but if I couldn’t find her, I would have to find another woman to be my wife and one day I was on duty with Marshia Hines, no not the singer, Detective Senior Constable Marshia Hines who was my chaperone on my first day as a fully qualified detective.

Marsha just like Leticia had auburn hair and the only difference was that Marshia stood eye-to-eye with me a 5.9” tall.

Our first job was to investigate a break-in at 19 Dwell Street in Mount Lyle. So, both Marsha and I jumped into the Holden police car with Marsha driving some ten minutes away to the above address.

I couldn’t help but notice the surname on the letterbox, “Wilson.”

The house appeared to be an asbestos fibre painted yellow on the outside.

I knocked on the front door and a male voice yelled “Three knocks it’s the cops.” Well, we were all taught at the academy to do a minimum of three knocks and no more. Either the resident was an ex-cop or prisoner. He slowly opened the door. “Mr Wilson, I am Detective Constable Matthew Harbour and this is my partner Senior Detective Constable Marsha Hines.”

“We’re here to talk to about the break-in that you had two days ago,” Marsha said.

“Well, about bloody time I didn’t want my daughter Leticia and my grandkids coming here having to look at the mess, and no one has been around here to swab for fingerprints either.

My heart went from my chest straight to my head. Marsha looked at me, “you okay Matthew, you look like you have seen a ghost,” Marsha said.

“Now Mr Wilson, in your statement you said that you weren’t home when the break-in occurred,” Marsha said, as I began taking down notes about the interview with Mr Wilson.

“Grandkids you say?” I said after we had gotten all the details. “Yeah, Leticia has been married for ten years now and has two kiddies a boy and a girl.

I hadn’t realised it but the ten years I spent on the railways and the ten years in the police force a whole twenty years had gone by and I was still single because I was still in love with Leticia.

I felt my heart sink when he said Leticia had two little kiddies, and I wanted to let the tears roll down my eyes, but I couldn’t because I was a police officer who had seen many a car crash with deceased persons inside the wrecked vehicles and other terrible scenes especially domestic fights and had arrested more than my fair share of criminals and drunkards.

Both Marsha and I headed back to the police car. “What on earth is wrong with you,” Marsha asked. “Well when I was a fireman on trains many years ago I met Mr Wilson’s daughter Leticia at Michaels Dance studio which doesn’t exist anymore, and we had a few dates and kissed and that was about all we ever got to do, and I fell deeply in love with her, and as the years went by I tried in vain to find her never expecting her to marry someone else, that’s why I have stayed single all these years, so when we eventually catch up we could resume our love affair,” I said to Marsha.

The police car’s motor roared into life, and we went back to the station to write up our report on the break-in at the Wilson’s.

The next morning as I had the day off, I walked past Wilson’s house and noticed a white Mercedes Benz in the driveway, which wasn’t there yesterday, so I got the courage to knock on the door, with about eight consecutive knocks. “It can’t be the cops it's more than three knocks,” Mr Wilson bellowed out.

“Hello, can I help you,” Mr Wilson said? “Well, I was wondering whether Leticia had arrived,” I said. Just at that moment, Leticia appeared behind her father. “I know you from somewhere,” Leticia said,

“I’m Mathew Harbour,” I blurted out. “Oh you, weren’t you here yesterday, you’re that plainclothes cop,” Mr Wilson said.

“Dad it’s okay we were once boyfriend and girlfriend in our younger days,” Leticia said.

“Come inside Matthew, we have a lot to catch up on.” 

                                        END