I was woken at about 9.15 by my doorbell. I haven't had much sleep recently (a lot of late nights and early mornings) and I was tired and annoyed. I picked up my video phone and it was a detective investigating the failed bombing who said he needed me to ask some questions. "I'll come down" I said, slightly concerned that they might be about to fit me up for the crime - I had been in the vicinity. They were going to make me their pasty. Their cheese and onion pasty.
I blearied my way down to the door and opened it, "I just need to ask you a couple of questions regarding the incident at the tube station yesterday," said the burliest of the two (or maybe three - I'd make a good witness) officers at the door.
"Of course," I said, trying to look like I wasn't guilty of the rubbish crime that had scarcely been committed - and I wasn't guilty so that should have been easy, but it wasn't.
"Do you have CCTV at the front or back of your property?" he asked.
"I don't, no" I replied, quickly.
The policeman almost laughed in my face, "You don't know?" he scoffed.
"No... I don't... No," I corrected.
"Oh!" he said, disappointed that I wasn't a lunatic. Then a bit embarrassed by the misunderstanding he decided he needed to elucidate, "It's just we are trying to get any footage of the perpetrator fleeing the scene - he may have gone through people's gardens" - that was the gist of it. He didn't say perpetrator. I have just been watching too much Diagnosis Murder.
"No, sorry" I replied and waited for the next question.
"That's all. Sorry to disturb you."
"No problem."
Damn it hadn't turned out to be as exciting as I hoped. I wanted to say, "I might have been near the tube station at the time of the failed bomb. I might have seen something. Why don't you grill me to try and get it out of me?"
But instead I just went back to bed. I have touched the peripherary of an historical event (well it could have been if it hadn't been perpetrated by the Keystone terrorists). It is probably the most exciting thing that will ever happen to me.