><> Chapter Thirty-Seven <><

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I sat staring at the red plastic chair. Over the past three hours, I had pretty much thoroughly examined everything else in the police station, which included a couple of vending machines and a load of posters enforcing various laws.

Being a Saturday night, a couple of drunks had been forced through the doors and out through the back, no doubt to the cells. I shuddered. I could not believe my father was back there somewhere.

Police had so far communicated that he would not be held for too long, overnight at the latest. They had urged me to go home, but I couldn't be in my house alone, while Dad was in jail.

Tired of looking at a chair, I pulled out my phone and saw that I had two missed calls; one from Rosie and one from my mother.

I would call Rosie tomorrow, she would understand. I was almost certain she had seen the news, no doubt along with everybody else at Coney Secondary School.

Now, as for my mother... I debated returning her call. On one hand, I was still her daughter, and she may be genuinely worried about me but on the other hand, she may just want to use the opportunity to slag off Dad and poison me against him. You just couldn't be sure with Mum these days.

I decided to send her a text instead, telling her I was fine. After the message was sent, I put the phone in my bag, and went to the desk to ask the policemen for some hot water so that I could make up a Lemsip. I was feeling rougher by the minute and I knew the last one must be wearing off.

The policeman behind the desk was pretty decent about fixing me some hot water, and even brought it over to where I was sitting. They probably took pity on me, sitting there miserably waiting for my crazy Dad to be released.

I felt exhausted and moved chairs so that I could sit next to one of the white concrete walls. Here, I rested my head against the wall and despite the bright glaring lights, I almost instantly fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke to the sound of two merry male voices. I sat up confused, trying to remember where I was, and why. Slowly the horrendous reality came flooding back, and I remembered how I came to be sleeping in this brightly lit room.

I squinted and looked up. Dad and George were standing in front of me grinning like a pair of Cheshire cats.

"You're free," I mumbled sleepily. 

"Yes darling," boomed Dad brightly. "They can't hold me for more than twenty-four hours, they wouldn't have a leg to stand on!"

"Too right!" chuckled George.

"What the hell were you thinking?" I hissed at Dad angrily.

"Well, I was thinking that we need to show SKANX that we're not a bunch of passive sheep here in Coney," said Dad, as though this was the most reasonable statement in the world.

"You could have been killed!" I whimpered. I couldn't believe he was acting like this. "You scaled a two hundred-foot power station!"

George clapped his hands together and laughed. "What a legend!" he hooted slapping Dad on the back.

Jeez, not him too. Are they having a joint mid-life crisis?

"And it was all over the news!" I added faintly.

Dad and George gasped with glee. They put their hands up to give each other a high five, but apparently they were not too familiar with the whole procedure and its coordination took them about a minute.

"Well done, that was the world's slowest high five!" I said, crossing my arms. I was so pissed off right now.

"I think we should all go and have a lovely fry-up, that should cheer you up. We're just waiting for the officers to return our possessions," said Dad jollily.

"You were arrested too?" I said to George, with disbelief.

"I was up there with him, kid," said George. "I didn't get as high though but I still graffitied: RIP Coney marine life! Didn't they show me on the news?"

"No," I said flatly. "It would appear Dad was the poster boy this time."

I put my head against the wall, as Dad and George continued to snigger. I opened an eye and stole another look at them both, grinning from ear to ear, eyes ablaze with excitement. I shook my head and looked away, but a giggle suddenly escaped my lips.

They had given me the fright of my life but there was also something undeniably hilarious about it. This was the sort of thing students did, not old age pensioners. The press were certainly paying attention now, they didn't need me at the front of their campaign like George had once suggested.

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