Mandy fell in step beside the grey haired man walking down the police station corridor. "Hi Sarge, you look nice today. Have you down something with your hair?"
"Can it, Mandy," he rasped in a Scots accent, tarred by too many years of smoking. "I've told you about this before. We're no fucking social workers. If the scutter won't press charges then fuck her."
"But Sarge, we can't let him get away with it," Mandy protested weakly.
"Don't fucking "but" me. How old are you, twelve?
We haven't got time to process this kind of scum, just so the CPS can let them go. We've got targets to hit and you're screwing it up for the rest of us."
Mandy replied defensively, "He'll think it's allowed if we don't do something."
Sarge snarled at her, "Are you fucking listening to me! If you want to knit yourself a Wonder Woman outfit and fight crime by night, then go ahead. But don't do it on my time!
"Is fighting crime such a bad thing?"
"Grow up, Mandy. It's about fighting statistics now and hitting targets. You're too soft. Either man up or get yourself another job."
YOU ARE READING
MANDY
General FictionCan a woman possibly play football against men in the English Premier League? City are a Premiership club facing bankruptcy. Millionaire Chairman, Ollie Barnes "The Chip King" decides to sign a female goalkeeper, in order to generate enough new s...
