Lynda La Plante: Tennison

‘Because you’d never cope on your own,’ Jane muttered under her breath.

During the following two weeks Mrs Tennison said nothing more about her daughter joining the police, but Jane knew that her mother hoped she wouldn’t be selected, not out of spite but fear for her safety. Her father was more positive. On the day of her interview he wished her good luck and said that whatever happened she still had a job working with him.

Jane arrived at the interview wearing minimal makeup and looking smart in a skirt and blouse. She was a bag of nerves.

She was measured and weighed, only to be told by a rather portly female Sergeant that she was underweight. Jane thought that was the end of her interview process, failed because she was too thin, but the Sergeant declared that it wasn’t a major problem; if she was selected they could always ‘fatten her up’ on weight gain tablets and a daily glass of full cream milk.

Next came the eye test followed by a medical in front of a male police doctor. Jane had to strip down to her underwear. It was the first time she’d ever been almost naked in front of a man she didn’t know, and she felt quite embarrassed. The doctor asked a few general questions about her health, then told her to hold out her hands and turn them over. For Jane, the most humiliating moment came when he asked her to turn round, bend over and touch her toes. Red-faced, she gritted her teeth and bent down, wondering if this was some kind of sick procedure to test her reactions as she would no doubt have to suffer all sorts of humiliating situations as a police officer. The doctor didn’t take her blood pressure or listen to her chest, or give her any other tests, but finished by asking general questions about her health. ‘Everything seems to be in working order,’ he concluded as he ticked a few boxes on a form and told her to get dressed and wait in the room next door to be called for the interview.

Jane had never felt so nervous in her life. She was glad that she’d taken the time to visit her local police station and speak with a woman officer about the sort of questions she might be asked. She had been warned that many male officers were opposed to women being integrated into the police force.

As she went back into the waiting-room, she saw a pleasant-looking man in his early thirties, waiting to be interviewed ahead of her. He turned to her and smiled.

‘You alright, luv? You look a bit flushed.’ He spoke with a London accent.

‘Making you bend over semi-naked just to see how you’d react is a bit much,’ Jane responded, and the man laughed.

‘It’s so the Doc can see the curvature of your spine. Though, come to think of it, he could be a nonce.’

‘You think so?’ Jane looked troubled.

‘Well, he told me to bend over, then grabbed me by the testicles.’

Her eyes widened. ‘No!’

‘Yes, and then he said, ‘One, two, three, cough’. I thought he said off , so I started to run… The pain in me nuts was agonising.’

Jane gaped in amazement. ‘Really?’

‘Nope, only joking,’ he replied with a big grin and she started to laugh, feeling more relaxed.

The door to the interview room opened and a man in his mid-twenties came out, looking visibly shaken. He had long hair, and was wearing an open-neck frilly shirt, cravat, slacks and sandals with socks.

‘I can’t believe it. I passed the eye test, but they said I was colour-blind and failed me,’ he said despondently as he walked off, his head held low.

Jane found herself looking round the room at the colour of the walls, carpet and furniture. The joker nudged her as he got up to go in for his interview.

‘He’s not colour-blind. Truth is, they probably failed him because he’s dressed like a poofter.’

Jane felt increasingly anxious as she waited, clutching her hands together as she went over the answers she had prepared. Twenty minutes later, the man came out with a beaming grin and, holding his thumbs up, told Jane he’d passed and she was to go in.

Sitting behind a desk was a female Chief Inspector who smiled at her, and a male Chief Superintendent, wearing half-moon glasses, who frowned and pointed to a chair.

The Chief Inspector opened the questioning by asking Jane about her family background, education and the reason she wanted to join the police. Jane felt more at ease with the Chief Inspector, while the Superintendent glared at her over the top of his glasses. She explained how she had read the article in the paper about the integration of the Women’s Branch and knew then that the Police Force would be a worthwhile career that she really wanted to pursue.

The Chief Superintendent took off his glasses, placed them on the table and leaned back in his chair.

‘You see it as a career, do you?’

‘Yes, sir, and I feel I am up to the challenge.’

‘So you don’t have any intention of getting married and having children… as most women seem to do after a few years in the force?’

‘Well, not at the moment, sir, and I’m not in a relationship with anyone.’

‘Not a lesbian, are you?’ he asked with a sneer.

‘No,’ Jane replied, trying not to sound offended yet feeling under pressure.

The Chief Inspector took over. ‘So you work for your father as a secretary. Do you have much experience of dealing with people?’

‘I look after his clients who visit the office and… ’

‘Very challenging,’ the Superintendent interrupted in a sarcastic tone.

Jane wasn’t sure if he was being deliberately rude to test her mettle or if he just disliked the idea of women being in the police force. She looked at the Chief Inspector who gave a discreet nod, as if encouraging her to speak up for herself. Jane’s mouth was dry so she licked her lips lightly before continuing.

‘As a school prefect I had to uphold the rules and ensure that everyone did the same. I like to think that I helped maintain the smooth running of the school and set a good example to the other pupils in terms of attitude and behaviour.’

The Superintendent sneered. ‘Well, that should help when you’re dealing with a six foot two verbally abusive drunk who’s just committed an indecent assault and will knock your block off to get away.’

‘Personally I feel that would depend on how you deal with him, sir. An unaggressive approach might help to ease and calm the situation, and I’m sure the majority of male officers would call for back-up when faced with a six foot two drunk.’

The Superintendent was about to make a comment when the Chief Inspector interrupted.

‘That was an excellent answer, Miss Tennison, and I have to say that overall I am very impressed with your interview manner. You clearly did some homework before coming here today. I think you are suitable to become a Constable in the Metropolitan Police force… Don’t you?’ She smiled as she turned to her colleague.

‘If you say so, but time will tell,’ he replied.

Instead of going straight home to tell her mother, an ecstatic Jane went to her father’s office first to share her good news. He gave her a big hug and, rather than let Jane face her mother alone, he drove her home. Unable to hold back the tears, Mrs Tennison congratulated her daughter. Jane knew they were tears of sadness and sensed that her father had already primed her not to criticise or challenge Jane’s decision. Even Pamela was positive when she heard the news, and once again she asked to have her sister’s room.

The first Monday in September was the day that Jane started in ‘The Met’. Her father drove her to Peto House, where she left her suitcase. She was allocated a small shared room with two single beds; down the hall was a communal washroom. Jane then went by bus with five other women to New Scotland Yard to be sworn in as a police constable. On arrival they were taken to a large conference room where nearly fifty male recruits were waiting.