Sunday

So, picture the scene.

It's Sunday. Although you have been at work all week, you still give up your time once a month for some charity work. No big deal, really. Nothing to write home about. But there you are, driving round central London, delivering meals to the sick and needy.
In the passenger seat sits your navigator for the day -- not quite the talkative and interesting hottie you asked the universe for. Granted, you didn't specify what sex this hottie should be, but just the same -- they didn't fit the bill.

Things are more or less going as normal -- while the navigator might struggle a little with telling left from right, he knows the route well and you are making good time. Right about this point you are heading towards Tower Bridge, and in reasonably heavy traffic.

Your navigator suggests you take the next road on the left. it seems simple enough. Mirror, signal, manoeuvre. And suddenly the car behind is going mad, beeping his horn up a storm. This seems fairly normal London traffic behaviour, I assume he's just an arsehole, and turn into the road as planned.

The road is narrower than you might like, with a line of cars parked on one side -- and immediately a taxi is heading towards you down the road, flashing his lights. You assume that he's telling you he has right of way or whatever, that he was there first, but it seems like more than this.
Just as you ask your navigator if you might just have turned the wrong way into a one-way street, you see it, pulling in behind you.
The police van, with half a dozen officers inside.

If the sirens were going, I didn't hear them -- but it was all lit up like a Christmas tree and flashing its headlights.
There's no question about it now. So you pull over, turn off the engine.

One thing they don't teach you when learning to drive is what to do in such a situation. Do you stay in the car? Do you get out? Do you produce your licence immediately, or do you keep your hands visible? Does producing your licence equate to an admission of guilt?

You stay where you are, and decide to leave looking for your licence from your bag in the back seat until at least you are asked for it.

The policeman approaches the car, and since the windows are electric and the ignition is off, you open the door to talk to him instead.
"What are you doing?" he asks
You reply, simply, "I am delivering meals on behalf of a charity".
Technically this is more information than you are normally meant to give when an individual asks you your business -- since the recipients of the meals should be kept absolutely confidential, to avoid prejudice against them from family or neighbours. But I figure the police is an exception, especially when you aren't actually anywhere near a drop. I'm not asked what charity.
"Well, your delivery has just taken you through a no entry sign. Did you not see it?"
"I'm sorry, no, I didn't see the sign at all."
"You really didn't see the sign?"
"Honestly, no -- I'm an idiot, I didn't see it. I'm very sorry."
"Well, we're all idiots sometimes. I suggest you try and reverse back out of here."
"Thank you, I will"

And so with my car half abandoned at an awkward angle in the road, I attempt to start to reverse back. It does occur to me that normally one should not be reversing back onto such a road, but from what I can see, it seems the police van has parked to block that lane of traffic.

I have barely started my awkward manoeuvre before the policeman returns to me.
"On top of points on your licence for going through a no entry sign, if you continue you will also receive points for reversing onto a main road. I suggest you turn the car around."

With help from a second policeman, guiding you back, you manage to get the car turned round, back out on the road and on your way.

Your name and address were never asked for, nor were you asked to produce your licence, so you are a little unsure what happens next.
At a more convenient time later, you text a police sergeant friend to ask their advice. He seems fairly sure you got off lightly with just a telling off, if you weren't given any forms or your details weren't taken. You ask, can't they just get your details from the car's licence plate?
Sure, he says, but then they need to post you a notice of impending prosecution for you to fill out your driver details, and there would be no point in doing that if they had you there at the time.

Just the same, you remain concerned. The policeman had said something about points on your licence -- maybe he was too busy to mess around with giving you forms or taking your details?

And worse yet, the car you were driving is registered to your Dad. Your Dad, who carries the letters "JP" after his name, to denote his status as a justice of the peace -- or magistrate.