After a rather wonderful trip through eastern France, a few
sun soaked weeks in our village in Spain, a fascinating return through western
France including a visit to the Bayeaux Tapestry and finally a few days in
Dublin babysitting our latest grandson, we caught the ferry from Dublin to
Liverpool. We zoomed down the M6 through darkness, rain and road works to take
a few delicious couple of pints real ale in a Cotswold pub and then home to
Stow on the Wold. Then, disaster! This is the report I wrote at the request of
the local police:
On Tuesday 25/10/2017 we returned to England after a six
week absence. I unlocked the door to our home and moved a few letters to the
side. I then looked up and saw an unbelievable mess in the corridor leading to
the office: papers everywhere and my briefcase open on the floor. I cautiously
advanced towards the office passing the under stairs cupboard where we keep our
booze – all gone, or so I thought, the office in a terrible mess and the
fireproof safe open, documents scattered every which way. Margaret thought at
first that I was joking when I told her, then she saw the carnage.
Upstairs our bedroom was a tip. All of the many drawers open
or thrown onto the floor; the bed was covered in my wife’s jewellery
containers, all open and mostly empty; clothing lay scattered all over the
floor – what a mess. The rest of the house had been similarly frisked, though
the office and our bedroom suffered the most, the kitchen and dining room the
least.
It took me quite a while to determine how the bastards had
got it. Both locks to the patio doors in the lounge had been wrenched off from the
outside, difficult to detect at first because the caring burglar(s) had closed
the sliding glass door on exit.
How did we feel? Depressed more than anything else, but also
shocked and despoiled. Money had been stolen, but the overbearing feeling is
the intrusion by a stranger into one’s life and the removal of things that are
dear to the heart. Margaret’s jewellery was of no great resale value but of
immense emotional worth – the most poignant thing things that were taken were
the items of jewellery that our daughter, Sheena, was wearing when she died.
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