At wake, we get stormed by the Special Branch. Man who read emotional eulogy hauled off. Seemed he's jumped bail for Australia years ago and thought PC plod might have 'forgot'. After all, it turns out it was only a minor altercation involving a baseball bat or two which translates, in Stevenage (as far as I can see) as 'he got involved in a fight'. Much consternation amidst family but half of them seem, well, sort of, used to it.
Back in Bethnal Green we realize our lives here are positively bucolic, almost parochial, largely because we don't charge up and down the A1 all the time in 4x4's listening to Sade remixes disturbing our psychic orientation. In fact, what was only 'this morning' felt like about six years to us.
So, the moral of the story is, if you are criminally inclined, please abandon sentimentality- because that's when they nick you. Also, beware of suburban Britain and Australia.