Kitchen. Window. Open.
On Tuesday morning at 3am I was woken up by a tinny, electronic voice saying: Kitchen. Window. Open. It was our security system. I sat bolt upright in bed and raced to the bedroom window (which is above our kitchen) and saw a man wearing a hoodie running off. I’d never felt such a rush of pure fear and adrenaline. The fucker had been trying to break into my house. The house where my beautiful family and I were sleeping upstairs. The audacity. The desperation. The fool.
Within seconds I called our 24 hour security firm and an armed response unit arrived minutes later. It’s a waste of time calling the police. They don’t come… probably too busy with drunk drivers. On arrival, I led them into the back garden. We saw the point of entry immediately. The driveway gate, which leads to the rear of the house, had been forced open. This gave him free reign to jimmy open one of the kitchen windows. That gate is now securely bolted with a new and hardcore lock (as is the kitchen window).
We were lucky. Our security system worked. All of our windows are linked to sensors which, when opened, issue these strange and terrifying alerts. This is standard in LA. Flimsy window locks are also standard. Give me a proper window lock any day. An Englishman’s home is supposed to be a castle. Not a wendy house that any nutter can enter at whim. Yes we have the dulcet warning tones of our security system, but what if this fails to scare off an intruder? What then? I can’t even go there. Lets just say I begin to understand this nation’s gun obsession (I can’t believe I just wrote that).
The whole sorry episode has left both Clare and I shaken and severely stirred. Of course, T is oblivious but we’re in a right state. On the plus side, I feel better this morning than I did yesterday morning. Touch wood, this trend will continue as time weaves its numbing magic.
I’ve never felt 100% safe here and unfortunately my fears proved correct. I’m counting the days before we move. We leave at the beginning of April. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned that before? This house has been sold and we’re moving up into the Hollywood Hills… opposite Ben Stiller to be precise. It’s peaceful up there. There’s more greenery, more scenery and hopefully less intruders.
Meanwhile, I feel terrible. My only solace being the wise words of Crimewatch’s Nick Ross:
“Don’t have nightmares. Do sleep well.”
Yeah thanks Nick.
