I still can’t believe they didn’t set it up especially for me. I am in a huddle with several police officers, waiting to corner a criminal in his lair and I can’t believe my luck.

I am spending a very eventful and absolutely fascinating day as a "ride-along" with a team from Three Rivers police.

My very early start begins at Rickmansworth police station with a briefing from Chief Inspector Deirdre Dent and ends by meeting South Oxhey’s neighbourhood policing team - where I pick up some real gems of police lingo - but right now, in a car park in the district, I find myself truly on the front line.

We have just been called out to arrest "Kostas" (not his real name), a notorious thug who has breached the terms of his licence and will now be sent back to prison.

He’s a man with a colourful past, so no fewer than six police cars, with nine officers, have parked at a discreet distance from the pub where Kostas works as a chef.  

This is the real deal; every officer has a truncheon, handcuffs, leg restraints and a stab-proof vest and two have been authorised to use tasers (stun guns) and pepper spray (which causes blindness for about 20 minutes), if necessary. 

The plan is to surprise Kostas and handcuff him before he can escape, but the officers are a bit twitchy because they all know from experience a kitchen is the last place you should confront your suspect - too many knives and too many pans of boiling water. 

I am already excited that we have "blue-lighted" our way here, with the siren wailing - my Scott and Bailey moment - but at the mention of knives, I begin to wonder if my faux fur jacket, purple handbag and floral trainers are the best wardrobe choice for squaring up to a convicted criminal with a history of violence.

The barmaid may be feeling the same thing about her high heels, because when an officer asks her to call Kostas out from the kitchen on some pretext, the poor girl screws up her face in alarm - and promptly scarpers. 

Da, da, duh….. now there is no choice but to brave the kitchen and hope Kostas isn’t holding a meat cleaver. 

(I try to come up with a one-liner about Sweeney Todd the demon barber - who cut his clients’ throats - and the 1970s cop show The Sweeney, but quickly decide this isn’t the moment for bad jokes).

As Sergeant Curnow and his team make their heroic entry into the kitchen and tell Kostas he is under arrest, I hover in the bar, hoping I’m not about to witness a vicious punch-up over the potatoes or a bloody massacre over the moussaka - but fortunately, for everyone, the arrest goes smoothly and two seconds later, it is safe for me to peek round the kitchen door. 

Kostas is in handcuffs and is being read his caution: "You don’t have to say anything, but anything you do say . . ."

He seems calm enough to me, even resigned to his imminent incarceration, but two officers smell potential trouble and are worried Kostas could turn nasty.

He is agitated and nervy, his leg keeps twitching, he is verbally obstructive, not to say insolent and his chin is jutting out aggressively. 

Just to be on the safe side, five officers form a circle around him while they wait for the prison van. 
What an experience for a ride-along to see - and best of all for me, Kostas has "villain" written all over him. 

He has a long greasy pony tail, a large beaky nose, sallow skin and two deep, fresh looking scars on his face. 

In fact, he so looks the part, he could be straight from Central Casting. 

"Are you sure you didn’t arrange this just for me?" I ask the police.

And guess what else - and I’m not making this up I promise - Kostas really was holding a meat cleaver when the police accosted him in the kitchen.

My thanks to CI Dent and her team for giving me such a great day, which really opened my eyes about the varied nature of police work. 

I’d love to do it again sometime.

IF you ever wonder what to do with all those bottles of bubble bath or bars of lavender soap Auntie Mary gives you each year, you may be interested to hear about a charitable initiative that has migrated its way from Kent to this part of Hertfordshire via Facebook. 

Project Shoebox started last year in Bromley when a few friends wrapped some old shoeboxes in Christmas paper and filled them with unused toiletries and cosmetics to give to their local women’s refuge.

Now Chenies resident Jasmine Lewis has established the charity’s Hertfordshire "hub" with help from Number One fashion boutique and Christ Church (both in Chorleywood), which will take in donations for the shoe boxes, to be distributed to women’s refuges in this area by Christmas.

So please, go through your bathroom cabinets and bottom drawers for unused make-up, moisturisers, sanitary products, soap, toothpaste, shampoo, flannels - even small items of jewellery or scarves  you never wear - and take them along to one of these drop-off points. 

Shoe boxes too, if you have them.

It grieves me to point this out, but the so-called season of goodwill is often anything but for some women, for whom Christmas is the time to flee violent, drunk partners, often in the middle of the night, with no time even to grab a toothbrush.

For further details on Project Shoebox email jasmineflewis@yahoo.co.uk or alternatively you can visit www.facebook.com/ShoeboxmGiving.