First aid and resuscitation classes were taught as well as lifesaving. Jane was fortunate that she had learned to swim at school, but Heather struggled. She had a morbid fear of the water and had to learn to swim one length of the pool from scratch. Everyone cheered her on and although she took in mouthfuls of water, she made it by sheer determination unaided. But her time as a recruit came to a sad end. Part of the lifesaving course was to jump off a high diving platform, something that Heather just couldn’t bring herself to do, even with everyone rooting for her. Failure meant dismissal, and a depressed Heather believed she’d let everyone down.
She and Jane cried and hugged each other that night as Heather packed her bags and left Hendon the following morning. Jane, like the rest of the class, couldn’t help but feel that the high-board incident had been used as an excuse to dismiss Heather, the real reason being she was just too timid to be a police officer. Jane gave Heather her home address and urged her to keep in touch, but she never heard from her again.
Jane passed her final exam with distinction and was two marks off being top of the class. Of all people it was the joker who won the Best Recruit Award. ‘With age comes wisdom, Jane,’ he commented jovially.
Being handed her warrant card, signed by Sir Robert Mark the Commissioner, was a great honour, but better still was her passing out parade on the Friday which was attended by her parents and Pamela. Jane was smart in her immaculately pressed uniform, shiny shoes and white gloves as she marched past her family and saluted them and the Commissioner. She could see how proud her father looked as he held the hand of her mother who wept, almost unbelievably, as did Pamela. After the parade they gave her a big hug.
‘What station have they sent you to, dear?’ Mrs Tennison asked. ‘Is it somewhere quiet?’
Jane could detect the concern in her mother’s voice, but the truth was she didn’t yet know.
‘I’ve got a week’s leave and then have to be back here the following Monday to find out. Then I’ll be bussed there to meet the senior officer in charge.’
‘So you won’t be coming back to live with us?’ Mrs Tennison frowned.
‘Then I can have your room?’ Pamela was quick on the uptake.
Jane smiled. ‘Hendon’s alright, Mum, but it doesn’t beat home comforts and your cooking. We’re allowed to live at home if we want when we get posted to a station, so my bag’s already packed.’
The look of happiness on her parents’ faces made Jane feel good, as did the glum expression on Pamela’s. That evening her father took the family out for a wonderful meal at an expensive West End restaurant, and even bought champagne to toast his elder daughter’s achievement.
Jane had a relaxing week off, getting plenty of rest and shopping done in Oxford Street. Her mother washed and ironed all her shirts, as well as taking her uniform to the dry cleaners, but her constant worry about where Jane might be posted became irritating. Jane tried to ease her concern by telling her that she had been trained in self-defence while at Hendon, learning arrest restraints such as the ‘hammer lock and bar’, ‘straight arm takedown’, and the use of pressure points to ensure compliance. She even demonstrated some of these on her father, who found them quite painful, but unfortunately this had the opposite effect on her mother who envisaged Jane being involved in regular fights with the ‘louts’ she had to arrest.
Jane was relieved that the week passed quickly. She felt apprehensive about where she might be posted that Monday morning, but hoped that it would be a busy station so that she could put into practice all she had learned at training school.
‘That would spoil the surprise, wouldn’t it, WPC Tennison,’ the Sergeant on the bus, who was ticking off names, replied to her question about her posting. ‘Your stop’s a long way off, so take a seat and I’ll let you know when we get there.’
The bus travelled through North London, dropping officers off at various stations along the way. As it progressed without her name being called, Jane wondered if she might be working out in the sticks somewhere like Chigwell. The truth was, after passing King’s Cross railway station, she didn’t have a clue where she was. Then, seeing a sign for Bethnal Green, she guessed she must be somewhere near the East End. Being the last person left on the bus, Jane resigned herself to an outer London posting. She picked up a discarded newspaper and started to read it.
Five minutes later, she heard the Sergeant call out her name.
‘Just about to pull up at your stop, Tennison.’
Jane had been so engrossed in her reading that she didn’t even register what street she was in. Jumping up out of her seat, she moved quickly to the front of the bus and looked out of the window.
‘Where are we?’
‘Top end of Mare Street in Hackney… part of the Kray twins’ old manor.’
‘Hackney?’ Jane exclaimed. She remembered her father once describing the area as a dump.
