Somewhere near Birmingham

I did not intend to get drunk but accidentally I have done.

I am somewhere in the Midlands.

I don’t even know where. I got here by booking an hotel on the Internet and then putting the name into the Maps thing on my phone. I am just after the third exit from the roundabout on the Leamington Road, destination is on your left.

I am a drunk person in an hotel.

Fortunately I am not on my own. Lucy is another drunk lost person in the Midlands, in an hotel.

It is an unsurprising sort of hotel, full of business travellers and Chinese people. There is pretend oak panelling in the bar and a bookshelf with books bought in an auction of unreadable books from the nineteen sixties. There is air conditioning in the event of a heatwave, and English Breakfast teabags on the hospitality tray. It is ambient and temperate and we can hear the conversations of people passing in the corridor. We are on our way to bed.

The thing was that we got here and we were too early for the table we had booked for dinner. I had thought that I might go to the gym, but it turned out that I am lazier than I had thought I was, so instead we went to the bar and had a glass of wine. 

We had another one when we finally got our dinner.

Drinking wine when you are tired and really hungry is a rubbish idea. That is to say, it is a rubbish idea if you want to be sober and sensible. If you want to talk a lot and giggle, whilst all the time being uncomfortably aware of a headache accumulating behind your eyes, then I can’t recommend it too highly. 

Lucy has got her interview with the police tomorrow. 

This is The Big One.

This is for Northamptonshire Police’s degree apprenticeship. It is the thing that she really wants. It is the thing that will get her on to a policing degree course with nothing to pay. No student loans and a wage to fund her accommodation whilst she does it.

It is the Golden Dream.

They do not hand these out to any old muppet. You have got to fill in some lengthy and complicated forms, asking deeply personal questions about your Inner Soul and your Formative Experiences. Then you have got to pass your driving test and attend a six hour interview, after which, eventually, you have got to take a Bleep Test.

She has been shortlisted and is through to the six hour interview, which is tomorrow, somewhere not too far from the hotel.

We have been practising interviews for all of the journey here, which took four hours. 

Somewhat to my surprise, she turns out to be considerably better at answering police interview questions than I am. I had started off from my knowledgeable advisory position of a person who has done lots of job interviews, as regular readers might recall.

I had all sorts of ideas for things she might say: but it turned out that she had already thought of all of her responses, and they were smooth and coolly efficient and effective. In the end I just nodded humbly and said that I thought it all sounded marvellous.

I have learned that  I do not know anything at all about the Core Competencies for police work. It is no surprise that  am a taxi driver.

She has got to do a written test and a numeracy test, four role plays and a lengthy interview. She is sitting next to me now, reading about being sensitive and flexible and proactive, because policing is not like it was when I was a teenager.

We have eaten a great deal of dinner, with a superb cheesecake made out of Baileys Irish Cream. We have talked about policing until I am bored with it.

We are going to go to bed.

I will let you know how she gets on.