Melissa Kite Melissa Kite

Real life | 10 December 2011

issue 10 December 2011

Do the right thing and the right thing will follow. Right? After my encounter on the Queen’s highway with Wayne and Waynetta Slob, I decided I had better ring my insurance company and warn them that there might be a fraudulent claim.

The couple had screeched off from the police station in their shiny new Ford Galaxy (Motability range) having accused me of a crash that had not happened and fleeced me of my insurance details.

The police were no help at all, insisting that I fill out a serious-injury accident form. They didn’t give two hoots for my protestations that there had been no accident, or injury, just a shunt in a traffic queue after which a pair of ne’er-do-wells cried whiplash whilst clutching their lower backs. I asked the police to look at the undamaged cars but they refused. ‘Procedure,’ said the officer, insisting I fill out a 50-page form asking ‘how many vehicles left the carriageway?’ and requesting that I ‘list the number of casualties taken to hospital’.

Get Britain's best politics newsletters

Register to get The Spectator's insight and opinion straight to your inbox. You can then read two free articles each week.

Already a subscriber? Log in

Comments

Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months

Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.

Already a subscriber? Log in