The prisoner Melford will hear the verdict of the Jury

Prosecuting Counsel: Miss Melford, do you really expect the Jury to believe that your intentions were innocent? I put it to you that you never meant to pay.

Lucy: No, I knew I had to pay, I simply forgot that I hadn't done it...

Prosecuting Counsel: I put it to you that you deliberately ordered a late breakfast knowing that you would deliberately leave the café without paying for what you had eaten. Is that not the case?

Lucy: No, no!

Prosecuting Counsel: Members of the Jury, consider the facts. This woman enters a well-known Liskeard café of impeccable reputation, and orders a late-morning meal. Then she sits at a window table near to the exit. Does it not strike you as significant that she was as far away from the staff as possible? And could slip away after eating without being noticed? Do you not have the slightest doubt that this was always her intention, to consume a meal and then run off without paying for it? Are you at all surprised that a member of staff had to chase after her, and apprehend her in the street? And then drag her back to the café? Members of the Jury, there could be no clearer case against this woman. And indeed she admits it all! That she ate the food she shamelessly ordered; that she sat close to the exit; and that she did in fact leave without paying, and had to be run after. Having been hauled back, she then paid in full - but only after being caught red-handed. So there is no merit at all in her actually settling the bill. She only did what she was forced to do.

Judge: Well, wretch. What do you say?

Lucy: This is all wrong, m'lud. I usually pay when ordering a meal in a café, and the different routine in this one threw me. I sat where I did, so that I could watch the passers-by, and possibly take a photo or two. I was there for quite a time. By the time I was ready to go, I'd forgotten that I hadn't actually paid for my meal. And I didn't leave straightaway, but went first to the loo at the back of the café, and only then left the café. I didn't hide, and I didn't sneak away. An awful lot of customers would have seen me. So would the staff. But nobody reminded me that I still needed to pay. And once outside, I didn't run away. I couldn't run. I had a bad knee, and was limping, and was using a stick. In fact I stood in the middle of the road, taking a picture, and the staff member who approached me only had to step up to me, and gently explain. I was horrified at not paying, and extremely embarrassed. 

Prosecuting Counsel: Ha! Do you really think the Jury will accept that nonsense? A most unlikely tale! [Exchanges an incredulous look with the Jury] 

Judge: Members of the Jury, you have heard what the prisoner claims was the case. Retire now to consider your verdict.

[Three minutes later]

Judge: [Glancing at the clock and tut-tutting] I have observed before that Juries tend to take over-long in reaching their verdicts. You, ladies and gentlemen, are no exception. This is precisely why the courts cannot get through their business with despatch. Very well; what is your decision, after so long a deliberation?

Foreman of the Jury: I am sorry we took an inordinate time to come to a decision, m'lud, but it is a very vexing case indeed. 

Judge: The worst I've heard for many a day. Well, what is your decision?

Foreman of the Jury: Guilty m'lud. We are absolutely unanimous. 

Judge: I expected nothing else. [Turning to Lucy] Society must be protected from the depredations of criminally-minded persons like yourself. I will impose the maximum possible sentence. Eighteen years, with no parole before the first fifteen. Take her down.

Thank goodness it didn't actually come to this! Back in September 2020, during a time between lockdowns, I'd taken the caravan to North Devon but had enjoyed a long day trip to Cornwall, and decided to get something to eat in Liskeard, a town I'd never explored much before (even though I've visited Cornwall many, many times since 1965). A café called The Fat Frog came up in my researches, so I went there and liked it very much. I went there again in 2021, and was now making a third visit to it. The staff were great; so were the all-day breakfasts they did. And the immediate surroundings represented the heart of 'old Liskeard', well worth a shot or two with LXV. Here's a from-the-road view of it in 2021, an interior view in July this year, and a shot of their current menu:

So I went in and ordered a Fat Frog Breakfast, as Liskeard is a longish drive from Great Torrington, and I was particularly hungry. The popular window table was free, so I plonked myself there, with this street view. A pantheon of miscellaneous people kept passing. Most interesting, if you like people-watching! 

And this is what they brought to me as I sat there, chilling:

Just the job. 

Now although I'd ordered, no money had been taken so far. Most often I pay when ordering, but not here, and yet somehow I got to thinking I'd settled the bill with Google Pay (now Google Wallet). In fact I checked my phone to see what the exact amount was. There was nothing showing, but I put that down to poor 4G reception, and assumed that as soon as I was outside again, the Google Pay notification would come through. Of course, there was no delayed notification because the bill hadn't yet been presented, let alone paid. 

But I still had this conviction of having paid as I went to the loo, and when walking out. I tried to catch the attention of the staff, to thank them for a nice meal. But they were busy. 

Outside, a shootable townscape presented itself, and I stood in the middle of the road to get it. The next thing I knew, a young woman was by my side to remind me I hadn't paid. She spoke gently to me. I could hardly believe the situation. I'd never done this before. This was awful! I hastened back with her to do the deed. I was extremely apologetic and dreadfully embarrassed. It was so unlike me. I must have had one of those 'senior moments' - no doubt with others to come now. I remember making light of it with a couple of girls sitting by the door. We laughed, but I wasn't really laughing. I felt desperately awkward about the whole thing, even though I must have been regarded simply as a forgetful old dear.

Of course I will return. I am not a child. This could have happened to anyone, and no harm was done. Besides, I'll want to call in again, on my way to Looe say.

I had a quick walk - or rather limp - down Liskeard old High Street, then went back to the car and off to Anthony, the National Trust property near Torpoint. Then the fun of riding the Torpoint Ferry over to Devonport, and the good drive back to North Devon. But all the while, I felt like a felon. It passed.