Nothing to do with personal feminine itching. No, I've received this email from a reader on the Dickensian east side of the island calling himself Joss Bay, a pseudonym we must assume:
I read in the papers recently that there's a national shortage of holly this festive season, and prices are going through the roof. So I was not entirely surprised as I was driving home the other night to see, as I approached my house, a shadowy figure who appeared to be cutting branches from the holly tree in my front garden. As I pulled into my drive, I remonstrated with the woman, who, calm as a cucumber, retorted: 'It's only a bit of holly' and sauntered off.
I thought about reporting the incident to the police, but she was the wife of the copper who lives a few doors up.
Crikey! Still, you've got to pity the rozzers. They've just had a piss poor pay deal, and what with that and the prospect of having to retire on full pay at 40 and set up their own security business, no wonder some of them are being driven to desperate measures!
