I was leaving the Sumner Supervalue last night when my attention was drawn to an altercation. Three people were arguing beside a white car; their voices loud. I was in a hurry to go to dinner at a friend’s house – I was buying  cream to go with brownies for dessert. Other people were standing in the car park, watching the argument. The arguers people were none of my business and I was headed back to my car, out on Nayland Street.

However, my memory kicked in of thirty-five years ago in London, when I was hit on the head with a brick then numerous people watched and did nothing as my assailant ran down the street while I screamed. The worst part of that incident was not being hit with a brick by a random, unemployed Irish man, it was people watching out their windows without acting. The people in the house I eventually entered said, “We thought it was a domestic,” implying  if I knew the person hitting me, it was not their place to intervene.

I veered away from my beeline to the car, heading towards a notice board so I could look like I had a reason for loitering. Almost immediately the situation escalated. Two of the arguers started to physically interact; I couldn’t see what was happening in the gloom between the cars. However, it was clear the situation was getting worse, not better.

I walked over and, in my best school teacher-style voice said, “Stop right now and move away from each other.”

Two men moved away from each other. The situation became clearer – it involved a man and woman of Asian appearance in their thirties, in dark stylish trench coats, and an older white male, likely in his seventies, wearing a pale synthetic bomber jacket and jeans. The older male was trying to get into his white Mazda station wagon. The younger male was trying to prevent him leaving.

“I scraped their car. They want me to promise them money. We’ve been in this car park for an hour!” the older male said, his voice shaky.

“He hit our car!” the younger male said. The younger woman was holding her phone with the speaker on – I could hear a voice squawking in the background.

I asked the older man for his name, address and phone number and wrote them down. I asked for his insurance company. “I’m not insured,” he said.

Then I looked at the damage the young couple were pointing out. There was a 3cm wide, 20cm long light scrape along the rear right panel of the dark blue Mercedes sedan. There was no denting. A bit of work with polishing compound and touch-up paint would mean it was barely visible. Was the car valuable and therefore the scrape important? I’m completely the wrong person to ask that question. When it comes to cars, my main thought was a station wagon is a far more practical vehicle without any pretensions.

“I’ve got the man’s name and phone number so you can contact him,” I said. And I took a picture of his license plate. Now you need to contact your insurance company. “We don’t have insurance,” the couple said.

“That’s a shame,” I replied. “A good reason to have insurance is so you don’t have to deal with situations like this. They do.”

The older man had, by now, got into his car and was starting to reverse out of the car park. The younger man moved forward again to try and prevent him leaving.

“Don’t do that!” I said. "Don’t interfere with that man or his property." The younger man backed off. The woman was talking to the phone. “I don’t understand,” she said. Then she thrust the phone at me. At the same time another bystander was finally engaging – a woman who had been watching from before I turned up, standing with her dog on a leash. “Take a photo of his license plate,” she said. Why was she telling me to take a picture? Why didn’t she interact with them rather than me?

I had no time to talk to the woman with the dog as I found myself talking to the police on the young couple’s phone. “Hi, I’m Dr Jane Shearer,” I said. Honorifics can occasionally be useful if you want to sound like you have weight, rather than being a random carpark busybody. I explained the situation – no harm to a person, an altercation over a minor scrape on a car. I described how I had got the older mans contact details and facilitated him leaving in order to de-escalate the situation. “You’re an angel,” the person on the other end of the line said. I’m not sure about that, but it sounded nice.

In the end, I handed the phone back to the couple and heard the discussion around them going to a police station to report the incident. “But the station is closed,” the younger man said.

“You can come to the Central Police Station now, or tomorrow,” the phone said. I thought it was hardly significant enough to warrant an urgent trip to the police station, but that was not my problem. My goal had been achieved – stop a potential fight and prevent the police having to come out to something that wasn’t a significant issue.

“Now I will go look for the man.” the younger male said.

“No you won’t!” I said. “You will leave him alone. If you want to take it further you will go to the police. However, I’m sorry this happened to you. It’s not fair when someone damages your expensive possession. It’s upsetting and annoying. I’m sorry.”

Then I headed back to my car and to dinner with a good story to tell. Except, when I got home, I decided to research the name of the older man. Oh no! A man of that name who lived in Sumner died in 2023. Had I been conned? Had I given the younger couple a false name and address? Was I not helpful at all other than helping to mislead them?

This morning I drove past the address the older man gave me. Thank goodness, a white Mazda station wagon with the same license plate was parked behind in the driveway. Also, thank goodness the car was behind a gate which might dissuade the younger couple from approaching the older man or his car again.

I hope all has ended some sort of well; unlikely I'll ever know.