Nora O'Brien

Debbie was surprised to find a policeman outside when she opened the door. 

“Hello,” she said. “Can I help you?” 

“Are you Nora O’Brien?” the officer asked. 

“No. There’s nobody of that name here.” 

“And you are?” 

“Debbie. Debbie Richards.” 

“And when will Nora be back?” the policeman continued. 

“Never. There’s no Nora here.” 

The policeman consulted his notebook.  

“This is five Telmore Terrace?” 

“Yes, that’s right.” 

“And you live here?” 

“Yes, I’m the owner. I’ve lived here fifteen years.” 

“We have credit card statements showing that Nora O’Brien lives here.” 

Debbie laughed.  

“No Nora O’Brien has ever lived here. Do you think it’s possible she might have given a false address?” 

“This is not a laughing matter, Miss Richards, this is a very serious crime we’re investigating.” 

“What is it, credit card fraud?” 

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, but we need to know as soon as Nora O’Brien returns.” 

“Well, if you give me your number, I’ll call you if she shows up, but as I say she doesn’t live here, she’s never been here, she’s just using a fake address.” 

“That’s not good enough,” he said. “I’m going to have to speak to my boss.” 

“You do that,” I said.   

He returned to his car, and I could see him on the phone.  I tried to carry on with my day, but out of the corner of my eye I was watching his car, he didn’t move.  He was obviously waiting for this Nora to return.  Good luck with that. 

It was a couple of hours later that the door-bell rang again. It was another man this time, in a smart uniform, with the original policeman lurking behind him. 

“Debbie Richards?” he said. 

“That’s right.” 

“I’m Inspector McPherson. We have reason to believe that a Nora O’Brien lives here,” he said.  

“There’s nobody of that name living here,” I said. “I’m the owner, lived here fifteen years. Never heard of a Nora O’Brien.” 

“She might be using an assumed name,” he said. 

“I’ve never had a tenant,” I said. “Bar the occasional boyfriend I’ve lived alone.” 

“Can I check your ID?” he said. 

“Can I check your’s?” I said. 

“He showed me his ID, I showed him mine. 

“Nora O’Brien is wanted for a serious offence,” he said.  “I can’t give you any details, but it is absolutely essential that we arrest here the moment she shows here. You understand what this means,” he continued. 

“No.” 

“We need to have an officer here at all times.” 

“You do? You mean parked outside?” 

“We need an officer in the house.” 

“In the house?” 

“We can pay expenses, but we need to move an officer in the house, to arrest Nora as soon as she turns up.” 

“Well, I have a spare room they can use, I suppose, but the whole thing seems crazy to me.” 

It was another officer who moved into my spare room, Jeff.  He lived with me 24/7.  He wouldn’t tell me anything about the case, but at least made himself useful, he put up a shelf in the front room and would cook for us most nights. 

“I need to talk to you,” Jeff said one day. 

“Yes,” I said. 

“MI5 are interested in Nora as well,” he said. 

“MI5? What has this woman done?” 

“I can’t say that, you understand, but that’s why they want to move in.” 

“Move in? You mean instead of you?” 

“I mean as well as me.” 

“But you have the spare room. Where would they sleep.” 

“On the sofa.” 

“It’s not exactly a long-term option,” I said.   

“They’ll pay.  It’ll be a good source of income for you, and shouldn’t be for long. Just until she shows up.” 

“What if she doesn’t?” 

“She has to.” 

“I don’t understand how you’re so convinced. She’s no connection with this house, she’s never been here, I don’t know her.” 

I was well paid, as promised. I could have moved into a hotel, but it was my house, and I didn’t want to be forced out of my own house. Not even when the MI6 agent moved in. 

“MI6?” I said. “But where will they sleep?” 

“You’ll have to give them your room?” 

“But where will I sleep?” 

“You can get a hotel room.  It won’t be for long.” 

In the end I decided to set up a tent in my back garden.  I slept outside, but could still use the house to use the toilet, watch TV, make food, etc.  And yes, I was getting three lots of money from three agencies, so I didn’t mind the inconvenience. It would pay for the trip of a lifetime. 

Jeff left, but another cop moved in.  I never really got to know them, though there seemed to be three or four of them on shifts, the same with the MI5 and MI6 agents.   

I continued to sleep in my tent and use the house for everything else, but I barely spoke to the other residents now, they seemed to change from day to day.   

And then one day my back door key didn’t work. They had changed the locks.  I tried knocking, but nobody answered, so I rang the front door-bell. 

A policeman answered. 

“Hello, I said, it’s me, Debbie. You’ve changed the locks, I couldn’t get in to use the bathroom.” 

“You want to use the bathroom?” he said, surprised. 

“Of course, it’s my house,” I said. “I live here.” 

Without speaking the policeman grabbed me, wrestled me to the floor and slapped cuffs on me. 

“I’ve got her, he shouted. “I’ve got Nora.” 

There was a stampede as a dozen or more officers and agents rushed to join the officer. I didn’t recognise any of them. 

“She’s using a false ID, but it must be her. She says she lives here.”