BIRTH OF A VIGILANTE?

It started during the summer, always after midnight, usually while I was in the bath, what sounded like a drunk - clearly a foreigner, walking through Trowse along White Horse Lane yelling his head off, angry at something. Were there two of them? It certainly sounded like it, but no, just the one, lone figure banging on the odd window and then my neighbour’s back gate, his ranting fading into the distance.

By the time I was dry and in bed he’d started up again but was nowhere to be seen. This went on several nights each week until the early hours. Initially it sounded as though he was an Arab reciting the Koran. But I’ve travelled across North Africa, Arabs pray at dawn and dusk and not throughout the night and into the early hours of the morning. And anyway these weren’t gentle reverent, tones this man was angry, no furious, with something.

When the first frosts of November came and the trees began to lose their leaves things became a little clearer. Among the trees along the outside slope of the Trowse bypass was, what looked like, a pile of rubbish that turned out to be his shelter under a layer of plastic sheets constructed half way up the 45 degree embankment. It was from here that he would continue yelling at himself until the early hours.

I have lovely neighbours and they came to see me, both as a friend and neighbour and in my capacity as Chairman of the Parish Council. They were at the end of their tethers and genuinely terrified at his behaviour and worried that he was there all day and night at the end of their gardens, often clearly in a distressed state.

Could anything be done?

One of them had already spoken to the County Council to be told there was nothing they could, or would, do despite the fact he was camping on the side of a highway on their property.
Her next recourse was to call the Police and an officer duly paid a call on our camper - during the day when he was quiet. The officer reported back to my neighbour that the chap was, in fact, a Portuguese national, his papers were in order, and that as he was a fellow member of the E. U. there was absolutely nothing that could be done.
Whatever happened to causing a disturbance of the peace?

1 o’clock in the morning the ranting began again. I had to do something for all our sakes. I got dressed again and walked to the end of our gravel drive. I yelled back at him, very loudly, both in English and what little Portuguese I had picked up in Brazil . All was quiet, I rewarded him with an ‘obrigado’. Before I made it back to my door he had started again. I turned around and went back - oh did I mention it was pouring with rain - to yell at him through the darkness again. I could neither see him nor reach him because of the barbed wire fence and ditch but I was determined to shut him up so I picked up a wooden stake and banged it on the fence to get his attention and released another bilingual tirade in his direction. All was quiet and indeed it stayed quiet for a couple of nights.

Then it started again. My neighbour called the Police again and this time 2 officers called on the camper late in the afternoon when all was quiet. ‘He’s Portuguese’, they said, ‘a fellow member of the E.U.’, they said, ‘and there’s absolutely nothing we can do’, they said.

So this time my neighbour thought she’d change her approach. The nights were bitterly cold, he was sleeping rough, and clearly was either being driven by drugs or drink or some serious mental problem. His behaviour was certainly very far from normal. So she telephoned the social services to see if she couldn’t get him into a hostel or some form of help. She was put onto the ‘Homeless’ department. ‘What’s his address’ she was asked. She began to describe his location. ‘That’s not an address’ they said and there was absolutely nothing they could do for him if he did not have an address !

She came to see me again, shortly followed by my other neighbour, both were in a bit of a state.

I feel I must do something.

Tonight I have to climb over the barbed wire fence and cross the ditch and confront him face to face. In itself this doesn’t unduly concern me, I’m a big guy, 6 feet plus and over 20 stone, an ex rugby prop forward. I was also born in Hull, John Prescot country. Physically and mentally I’m well equipped to punch his lights out. But that isn’t the point. When the Police spoke to him it was more anonymous. Had they moved him on they would have been acting on behalf of the state, a ‘fair cop’ you might say. But now this was going to get personal. This chap would know my face, he’d know where I live. He’d know when my house was empty, it’s only 50 yards away after all. Most importantly he’d know when my wife and daughters are home alone. How dangerous is this man? I honestly have absolutely no idea. He could be completely harmless but just very noisy. But what a way to find out. I may barely be able to converse with him. If he insists on behaving in this way why can’t he move further away up the lane where he won’t disturb anyone, there’s plenty of cosy sheltered places. Did the Police suggest this to him? Will my words alone persuade him?

He clearly has some sort of major psychological problem. What if he attacks me? He might be frightened or crazy. The Police, quite sensibly, wear flak jackets for precisely this type of situation. Do I take some sort of weapon with me to protect myself. I pick up a rounders bat and then a sawfish’s saw, a 3 feet chunk of shark cartilage flanked in razor-sharp teeth. I put them both down. I can’t do this, it’s against the law. I would become the criminal. Maybe I could use them to protect myself against intruders on my own property but taking them out onto the public road no way. The Police would, quite rightly, soon pick me up.
Anyway how would he react if I appeared with a weapon? Does he have one himself? There’s only one way to find out. Legally I can only hit him if he throws the first punch. Why should I potentially put myself at risk in order to persuade this person to move on and let us live in peace.


Well if I, and my neighbours, want a decent nights sleep and we don’t want to be looking over our shoulders every time we leave the house, I have too.

It’s now 1.37 a.m. and the ranting has started again.

Wish me luck.