They return to England where Dave is visited by a police officer as he sat in the dingy little bedsit he'd rented for them both, but this was no ordinary police officer, he was in the Royal Ulster Constabulary which had no jurisdiction in England.His immediate boss, a chief superintendent in Belfast had actually been drinking in the Sergeant's mess when Dave had belted his uncle and had been thoroughly impressed by the way he fought as four military policemen had tried to arrest him."We want you to come over and join up" the officer told Dave who burst out laughing,"You must be bloody joking" says our hero, "I've got a police record now, they wouldn't have me"But they would and they did, they were setting up several new units over in the province where civil unrest was growing daily in the build up to August 1969 when British troops first went into the province to protect the catholic population.I'm not going to go into the details of his service over there except to say that in. " Well at least let me walk you out." I nodded in approval.Returning to the dining room we redressed. I gathered my torn top and dangled it in front of him."Oh yea sorry bout that. I can pay you for it." He offered."No worries. But what am I supposed to wear home." Gimme a sec." He left the room.He brought back a flannel shirt and handed it to me. "Here.... A souvenir." He winked at me."Gee and to think I didn't get you anything." I joked.The large shirt engulfed me I noticed buttoning it up. “It’s huge.”“You look hot. Besides it’s not like I have a stash of women’s clothes.” “Thanks.”He walked me out the door and to my car. Leaning in he gave me one last kiss then hugged me close. "Save my number in case things don’t work out." He whispered in my ear. I got in my car and drove away. On the drive home I convinced myself that with the stranger now out of the picture I would concentrate on the problems plaguing me and my husband. Unfortunately my growing drug habit would be a barrier.
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