Proceed with caution

The Lancashire anti-fracking stormtrooper avant-garde made a pincer movement upon County Hall last Friday in order to hand in one of several petitions against the drilling for shale gas in the county. I was 1/7th of the regiment but due to my retiring nature I wasn't in the photo.

Afterwards I repaired to the bewitching surroundings of a new pub in a Grade II listed former bank chambers; it glinted and spangled. There was a giddy, holiday atmosphere. Looking around at the sea of Fred Perry and Ellesse -- surely the most feminine-sounding brand ever to be adopted by self-consciously manly men -- the penny dropped. Preston were away to Port Vale. Mid-afternoon, they drifted off to get the train to Stoke.

They took all the breath in the atmosphere with them, and so I turned to the bothersome matter of my drugs charge. The constable in question had texted me whilst I was mid-protest asking me to contact him for a "chat."

"By the way," I said, "based on what you've outlined in your letter and what you've just said now -- just to say, I'm not going to be contesting this." I arranged to see him at Lancaster Police Station at 9am the following day.

The policeman walked in to the reception area, and I swallowed my embarrassment as I saw the man who had herded me away from being a pest to everyone at the Castle that night -- but not without riffling through my pockets first. He shook my hand, which seemed wrong for the relationship.

We went into a windowless room and he started the tapes. I sat poised in a way which I hope demonstrated worry and the desire to be helpful. "So, you bought these items from this man in the nightclub in Manchester. What did you buy?" My reply avoided the terms used by those fluent in the argot. "It was four tablets of ecstasy, and four little square things of LSD."

"And what did you do with them?" he asked, fishing about for a supply charge. "I just kept them till the right occasion turned up, and I thought a rave in a former prison was such an occasion." "Right. I'll just have to find these drugs on the computer now." After a bit of constable-ish faffing he said "Hmm, it's not letting me add the LSD, so -- we'll just put it down as ecstasy."

He said he'd have to check his decision with a superior officer, but that he was going to recommend a Caution, with a condition that I attend a Drugs Education and Awareness course. "It's only two days but it is compulsory."

I had my DNA swabbed from the inside of my mouth, I was photographed and measured. Back in the main room, the officer wanted a word, and took me down the corridor a few yards.

"I've had a word with the Sergeant, and he says that the course isn't really suitable for you. It's aimed more at habitual, hardcore users of drugs, and I think to be honest you've learnt your own lesson from that night, haven't you?" I took a slow breath in, bit my lip, looked downward, scratched my left eyebrow and said "Yes, you could say that." I was disappointed not to go on the course. It would have been most interesting to get some new contacts understand the current state of official drug prevention strategy.

I was issued with the Caution and had to sign to say that I understood its provisions. He led me chattily back to reception. "So what are you doing for the rest of the day?" "I might have a drink later to be honest." "Well, don't get out of control again because I'm on till 7pm and that would be embarrassing." With another handshake, I was out.

I bumped into Wilma, who was on the way round to mine with the twenty quid she owed me, and a bottle of wine. Together with Trina, we decided that exceptional circumstances called for un verre. The following day Trina and me went to Brittany for a week but I'll tell you about that next time.