Perceptions.

I have just taken Rocky out for his afternoon walk. He keeps his nose to the ground, sniffing here, there, and everywhere. So interested is he in the scents, reading the messages, that he often does not see what is going on about him. For example, a black woman was coming out of a shop just as we were passing. The sudden movement of the door and her presence startled him, and he barks and lunges forward a bit. She jumps back as he startled her. She fears dogs, I sense that and so does Rocky. She mumbles something to the shopkeeper which I don't hear, but her look of protest is censuring me and she is looking for an explanation. I just tell her, in passing, "you startled him".

I get my Russian made but American brand cigarettes for £2.50 for 20, from a shop further down the road. The Chancellor is tax avoided. The shopkeepers here call me Mr Policeman. I get a warm welcome, "Hello Mr Policeman", it also warns the other shoppers of my presence. A while back, I opened my wallet to pay for my fags and they saw a business card with the Humberside Police badge on it, which a policeman had given me after a local yob had tried to show my neck how sharp the blade of his samurai sword was, and they had mistaken it for a warrant card. "No, no, we not sell you anymore" was their first response. As I was trying to explain to them what it was that they had seen, I saw someone passing by who knows the Russian/Latvian Mafia in Hull, and this person just said to the shopkeepers, "He's alright". So, now they think that I am a bent copper!

As we came back from Pearson Park, a group of black footballers were talking by a park bench. I had to watch Rocky carefully, sometimes he just wants to play football and at other times he takes exception to the studs in the boots and barks at the feet. Some of them moved away, and only two remained. Then another crossed the little path out of the way. I heard one say to the other as I passed, "That's the man I was telling you about". I did not ask why I was the topic of conversation. I preferred to think it was just to do with Rocky having met them before when he was in a less sociable mood.

Walking back along Pearson Avenue, I noticed a police van parked at the side of the road, and it appeared as though they were just studying their notebooks. They stared at me, and I saw that the female officer in the passenger seat had that 'I know that man' look on her face. But I was not the target of their attention. Across Beverley Road, I saw standing on the corner, a man with a serious look on his face, peering towards the city centre, and thought 'police'. Before I could cross, A police Volvo estate approached from the direction of the city centre, and the man signalled the driver to pull into the road I was about to walk down. He indicated towards a maroon Renault saloon, I had wondered why its driver's door was ajar when I passed it on my outward journey. The plain clothes officer was looking towards a house on Beverley Road where I had seen a couple of drug raids occur previously. I assumed that it was going to be another drugs bust.

When I got home, the police Volvo drove down to the entrance where I live and reversed in and pulled forward again doing a three point turn. Then it reversed again blocking the entrance, but from the road in front. I adjusted the switch on my CCTV to cover just the front of the house. 'Surely not', I thought, 'they haven't come to arrest me for daring to ignore the injunction?'. That would have been a big mistake. 'No', I reasoned 'the back of the alleged drug den was at the end of the cul-de-sac'. They were just covering all exits. Once I had seen a youthful girl scale the wall, run in front of my house and scale the other wall and disappear into the small park the other side. By the time two policemen ran into the cul-de-sac, looked around, and scratched their heads, she could have already been down Scully and away.