Spare a thought for all those who work nights

IT’S 9.15pm on a Saturday night, and the doorbell chimes into life. The CCTV monitor shows a bloke in a high-vis jacket.

Very gingerly I open the door, to be confronted by a delivery man with a parcel for her indoors. This got me thinking, he must be one of dozens of people driving about, dropping things off, and no doubt earning an honest wage. Why else on a Saturday night, at this time!

While we relax after a hard week down the salt mines, faceless heroes are out there keeping the wheels of commerce ticking over. How many times have I set out on a Monday morning at silly o’clock and hit the motorway and been the only car in a stream of lorries?

Then there are the emergency services, all three fully-manned, waiting for the call at 02.00 to a fire, burglary or car smash, and our morning papers, printed and distributed while we sleep, ditto the wholesale markets, up and running by midnight and shutting just as you stagger out in the morning.

We think the world stops at sundown, it doesn’t; another world of the night workers takes over. Without fuss, they go about their allotted tasks, knowing that the rush and turmoil of the working day has ceased.

Having worked nights, it’s somewhat of an eye-opener to see deserted streets, even in the big city, at 3am, just the occasional black cab, and the solitary patrolling policeman.

I thanked the bloke for the parcel, and said: “Mate, you have my deepest respect, working at this time on a Saturday night.”

He smiled, waved and disappeared into the gloom.

Tony Levy, by email