The neighbourhood watch was on high alert in Charleville over the weekend. A banged-up white 1990 Holden apollo had been loitering outside healthy ageing since Thursday.
Conspiracy theories were rampant.
Perhaps a body was tied up in the boot. The car’s NSW registration pointed the amateur sleuths at healthy ageing towards theft. The handbag on the seat and general mess showed it was a probably lady’s care. What had happened to her? Nasty things, definitely.
Annie Liston and the ladies at the council pooled their concern, nominating Annie to take the matter in hand. The friendly lads in blue couldn’t do anything about the car on Friday but in the face of fresh alarm on Monday, for the suspicious vehicle was still rudely idle on Annie’s patch, the police took action.
The owners were called – my parent’s in Tamworth. But they didn’t receive the alarming message until later that night.
After matching the surnames I received a few phone calls about my errant wheels. I missed the policeman’s calls but a message came through from the boyfriend in Quilpie, “The cops are chasing you to move the Fanny.”
The car was named Fanny in high school in an overwhelmingly successful attempt to annoy my mother. Not surprisingly it stuck.
Not long after that message my flatmate rang. The police had called on me at home about my car.
I began to panic as two friendly coppers strolled into the Watchman office.
But once the enquiries about my wellbeing were satisfied the men left to deliver the news to Annie. She’d been worried all weekend, she laughed.
“I see Fanny has gone. Good girl,” she texted me on Tuesday morning.