A Met police retirement doo

A Riot Girl in a New Chapter: Policing, Friendships, and Finding Joy in London

I’ve just come back from a whirlwind couple of days in London, and honestly — I’m still carrying the warmth of it all.

It started with meeting the glorious Kate Hughes of Kate Hughes Hair and Make Up. We were planning the next Reclaim the Flame event in support of the Pandora Project — and as a bonus, Kate gave me a much-needed little glow-up. Hair and makeup aren’t something I usually bother with, but it felt like a beautiful act of care, and I left feeling light and lifted.

We wandered around the British Library — one of my favourite places. There’s something deeply calming about the smell of books, the quiet reverence in the reading rooms, the endless stacks of old editions reaching skyward. I could spend hours in places like that or in a bookshop, tucked into a corner of quiet possibility.

Reunions and Reflections

After parting ways with Kate, I met up with my lovely mate Cassie for lunch in King’s Cross — which, like the rest of us, has had a bit of a glow-up over the years. It’s a far cry from the edgier streets we knew when we worked the beat there, especially after dark.

Cassie and I met years ago on a hen do on the Norfolk Broads, ended up sharing a room, and bonded over our time in the Met — both of us having worked in Camden. Over the years we’ve seen a few things that would make your toes curl, but also built a friendship with real depth and staying power.

We treated ourselves to lunch at Tom Dixon’s Coal Drops Yard — somewhere Cass had always wanted to try. Glammed up and ready to be ladies who lunch, we lasted all of five minutes before tears were flowing. There’s something about true friendship that allows the emotion to spill out the second you’re back in each other’s orbit. We held hands, caught up on life’s curveballs, and managed to eat our way through three beautiful courses. After a little mooch around for trainers, we headed off to the pub opposite the old King’s Cross nick.

A Riot Reunion

We were headed to Jim’s retirement do — 30 years in the Met, including time on the rugby team and the Territorial Support Group (TSG). I worked with Jim for five of my own 17 years in the job — our time on the TSG and Crime Squad remains one of the most formative and joy-filled chapters of my life.

I can’t lie — I felt nervous walking into a room full of old colleagues. It had been years since I’d been in the mixer with the “old bill.” But the moment I walked in and spotted Jim Bob, I knew I’d made the right call. A big hug, a kiss on the cheek, and we were right back in the flow of connection.

Despite what people may think (undertsandably) these officers were some of the most hardworking, professional, and hilarious people I’ve ever known. The TSG — aka the London Riot Squad — wasn’t an easy place to be, especially as one of the few women. But it was where I learned to be robust, resilient, and to have each other’s backs — fiercely.

Mark, the Skipper, and the Power of the Past

The real highlight of the night? Seeing my old sergeant, Mark, who had flown in from France. He used to run our Crime Squad and was the king of “Gucci policing” — think drugs operations, fast-paced days, and a team that really worked. He was a stickler for high standards and got the best out of all of us. Miss that Scouse twang of his: “Where were ya?” if you didn’t pick up within two rings.

Those were the days that shaped me. Being one of the very few women on the TSG meant you had to be fit, sharp, and completely committed — and thank goodness, we had a tight-knit crew of incredible women who looked out for each other. There was no competition, no cattiness — just deep camaraderie. They were my first real experience of strong, empowered women showing up fully and lifting each other up.

Choosing Joy, Again and Again

We laughed. We hugged. We reminisced. We heard stories of colleagues who are now struggling with serious health conditions — and it hit home, again, just how relentless the job could be. It takes a toll. The stress, the exposure, the adrenaline… it all adds up.

But what shone through was the love. The connection. The stories and the belly laughs and the shared understanding that you only really get with people who’ve been through the fire with you.

As someone who got out after 17 years, I know how lucky I was. And yet, it’s those 5 years on the TSG — in all their madness — that I look back on with the most gratitude. That team grounded me. Shaped me. Made me laugh until my stomach hurt.

A Final Salute

Jim’s send-off was beautiful. He had a huge turnout — no surprise there. Someone gave a lovely speech, and the theme that echoed through the room was how good it was. How it was the people that made it. And how much we bloody laughed.

Life is short. That’s the truth of it. And seeing everyone reminded me how important it is to surround yourself with good souls and to spend your time doing things that light you up.

So here’s to Jim Bob — may your retirement be as legendary as your service. And here’s to all my fellow riot cops, women and men, who taught me what it means to show up, to have each other’s backs, and to choose joy — over and over again.

This chapter of my life was one of the good ones. And I’ll always be grateful for it.

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