Corona Virus - Lockdown

The road has been quiet, the wide expanse of the M1 is a joy to drive.  I have seen relatively few lorries and cars since I started out from London, keeping to my strict 79mph on cruise control most of the way.  Leicester, Chesterfield and then Sheffield flew by. Driving alone always makes the journey seem longer.  

Then I saw it, the police patrol car as it shifted almost casually from between two lorries and into the middle lane.  I am Mr Grey when it comes to driving, I keep my speed steady, my driving sensible (for the most part) and I follow the rules even if it means a long detour having missed an exit.  I watched him like a hawk and clicked my cruise control down several notches to about 72mph.  I have only ever been stopped once before for speeding and that was speeding at just under a ton.  It was also many, many years ago.

Slowly and inevitably the patrol car caught up, no special effort, no flashing lights, just gradual, calm controlled approach.  Little did I know that the occupants were conducting some mandatory checks before proceeding with the stop.  The police have an amazing ability to track and interrogate the details of cars and, due to the unique crisis at the moment, they were running through an extra set of checks.

As I watched the painfully slow approach of the car I started to wonder if my tyres and lights were okay or perhaps something else I had not noticed.  The patrol car joined formation behind me and kept a safe but slightly intimidating distance behind me.  By now my cruise setting had dropped to bang on 70 and normally the police would sweep past, probably amused that they had asserted their authority without actually doing anything.  For my part most of my focus was not on the road in front but the spectre haunting me from behind like death itself.

Mentally I started to go through a checklist of possible offences I may have committed and I ticked them off, in the negative sense, as I worked through them.  I had not got started when the blue lights sent that epileptic inducing flash bouncing off my rear view mirror.  Immediately I indicated and angled onto the hard shoulder, coming  to a stop beneath one of the motorway gantries.  Okay.  Here we go.

The patrol car came to a halt some 3 metres behind me and, after what seemed like an age, the nearside door of the patrol car opened and the officer stepped out.  I rummaged in my glove box to get my documents and my driving licence ready.  I had it in time for him getting to my window. which I lowered about half way.