We were holidaying on the Central Coast several years ago. Dad was planning a big Australia Day party and had been buying stacks of beer which was all stored in an old fridge on the verandah of the two-storey house where we were staying.
Mum and Dad were staying overnight in Sydney and my sister and I were alone in this strange house. We heard a car pull up nearby and, spying through the blinds, we saw two youths heading for the house, apparently up to no good.
Downstairs was well locked but upstairs the verandah area was quite open. To our horror one of them started to climb the tall timber pole leading to the verandah.
‘They’re after Dad’s beer,’ we whispered.
‘Never!’ we agreed.
I told my sister to ring 000 and to ring Dad while I grabbed some cold tinnies and started throwing them at the invader. I’m a netball player and I didn’t miss with many.
The climber was taking a battering but still seemed to be coming up.
We knew the police were a long way away and would take ages to get there and the other thief had started to climb up the other pole.
We were just about to give up the attack and retreat to the bedroom, which had sturdy locks, when we heard a siren. No, not the police, it was an ambulance coming to the would-be thieves’ rescue.
Apparently, in her panic my sister had been giving the operator a blow by blow description. ‘Ooh! She’s hit him on the head … Ooh! She’s hit him again!’
The woman thought the intruders needed an ambulance more than we needed the police.
Fortunately the siren’s noise was enough to scare the robbers and they took off.
We saved Dad’s beer.
Dad said we deserved a medal, but we settled for a trip to Surfers.
Oh, the party was a great success and probably resulted in a few more sore heads.