Well, we're now able to say that we've been burgled. For my American friends, this is the UK term for robbed or burglarized.
Last night, we thought we heard our back door open and close, and then saw a person running past our window. There are a few other doors in our courtyard which we hear slamming fairly often, so we just assumed it was our neighbors door.
This morning Garrick couldn't find his keys or wallet, and then I went to leave for work and my purse was gone. Then it clicked. I left my keys in our back door. Oops. Someone capitalized on my error, entered our flat, and grabbed what was in sight.
We immediately phoned the police who came and to take forensic evidence (although there was none to collect) and conducted an hour-long interview. Garrick stayed home from the office and cancelled all of our debit, credit, and international bank cards, coordinated our doors getting new locks, and also looked into getting new drivers licenses. What a stud.
Right before I got home from work, our bank phoned and said my purse had been found on the East Sands and turned in. I'll go along and collect it tomorrow on my lunch break. I'm hoping it's condition is decent, as it was a gift from my dear friend Rachael before we moved to Scotland.
So, there you have it. An unpleasant, but noteworthy day.