Cath Staincliffe - Blink of an Eye

Oh God.

It’s hard to talk much after that, but I do make an effort, asking about the rest of his day and how he’s managing with the crutch. And he asks me how I feel about him starting to look for a flat for us soon. The notion of me leaving hospital and our lives going on seems totally unreal. The police might press charges. It’s likely they will. But I say that’s fine and to get somewhere near a tram stop because it would be good for work. His work. The firm are based in town, off Deansgate.

That night before I sleep, I centre my thoughts on that glimpse of red, poring over it, willing it to evolve, unfold and show me more.

I will remember.

I will.

Carmel

I uploaded the pictures from Phil’s camera and the ones Jonty had copied for me and then made a selection of those that I thought might best help Naomi. There’s a lovely one Phil took of Naomi holding Ollie. She is staring down at him, solemn-faced, and he’s gazing back up at her. Both their faces are in profile and Phil has just caught the moment.

And I continued to work through the list of barbecue guests. I met Gordy at a café in Prestwich, up in north Manchester, close to where he lived. He was my sort of age and had a substantial paunch and sounded breathless all the time. I asked him to tell me everything he could remember about Naomi at the barbecue, and took notes as he spoke.

‘We talked for quite a while,’ he said. ‘My middle one, Laura, is applying to Newcastle. Naomi was raving about it. She’s a lovely girl.’

‘Yes.’

‘We sat on the swing seat,’ he said. ‘Some of the time Pip was with us. Have you spoken to Pip yet?’

‘No.’

‘What do they think the chances are of her remembering?’ he said.

‘No one will even hazard a guess,’ I said. ‘When something like this happens, you find out how little we still know about the brain.’

‘Poor kid,’ Gordy sighed. ‘And the other family, of course.’

‘Yes. I still can’t really imagine what they’re going through; just this generalized notion of how horrendous it must be.’

‘There was a toddler at the party,’ Gordy said, ‘little boy in blue dungarees.’

‘Oh yes.’ Alan, or Adam.

‘Naomi read him a book. He was getting tired and his mum had given him this book and he chucked it on the floor. Naomi pretended she wanted to look at it and began reading it out loud making deliberate mistakes, and that drew the boy in. He clambered up on to the seat and she read it to him. I left them to it then. That was around quarter to six.’

‘Did you notice if Naomi was drinking?’

Gordy shook his head. ‘Sorry, no. You think she…’

‘I don’t think so, but Suzanne does. Did she seem tipsy?’

‘Not especially, no. I might have been, though,’ he said. ‘Kids – you think once they’re adults it might get easier, and then something like this happens. My eldest, Jordan, passed his driving test first time, twenty he was. Two months later he was sent on one of those courses for speeding drivers. Sometimes they seem to think they’re invincible, that nothing can touch them, that it won’t happen to them.’

I nodded. ‘If you think of anything else…’

‘I’ll call you, I’ve got your number.’

Gordy hadn’t seen her drinking, I thought, as I walked to the car. That was good. And there were several little moments in what he’d told me that were worth passing on. Given that she’d begun to remember other fragments, I was hopeful that her amnesia would lift.

We asked the staff if there was anywhere private we could meet with Don on the Monday. They let us use a small side room near the ward and confirmed that Naomi was fit enough to be taken there in a wheelchair.

Don is a lovely man, his softly spoken manner at odds with a dirty, raucous, infectious laugh which turns his eyes to tiny lines in his plump face. He’s virtually bald and keeps any remaining hair shaved close to his scalp.

I don’t remember seeing him in a suit before, but when he arrived at the hospital he was in the full kit, shirt and tie and shiny shoes with long pointy toes. Italian at a guess. He certainly took more care with his wardrobe than Phil ever did. Or me, come to that.

Don shook hands with Naomi before sitting down and asking her to tell him about the accident. He had a tablet with him, prepared to type in notes.

She shook her head. ‘I can’t really remember any of it. Just a noise and a flash of red.’ Her voice dipped. ‘Alex says she was wearing a red dress. So, I only know what Mum and Dad told me, and Alex.’

‘Okay.’ Don glanced at Phil.

Phil went over what we’d learnt from the police and what Alex had said. Don didn’t talk very much, just stopping Phil when he needed to clarify points. ‘Were there any eyewitnesses?’ he said.

‘Monica, Alex’s mum; she passed them on Lees Hall Road, a few minutes before.’

‘What about at the actual crash?’ Don said.

‘I don’t know,’ Phil said.

I thought about it. ‘Alex didn’t mention anyone, but you’d have to ask him.’

‘He rang the ambulance himself,’ Naomi added, ‘so I don’t think so.’

‘What about CCTV?’ Don said.

Phil and I looked at each other and both shrugged. I couldn’t recall any cameras at the scene, but then I hadn’t been looking for them.

‘Is Alex likely to give a statement to the police and appear in court if charges are brought?’ he asked Naomi directly. ‘He’d cooperate?’

‘Yes, I think so,’ she said.

‘He’s training to be a lawyer,’ I said.

Don thought for a moment, then scrolled over his notes, rubbing the palm of one hand over the top of his head.

‘I can tell you what is likely to happen,’ he said, ‘but until the police bring charges – if they bring charges, and in a case this serious that is highly probable -there’s nothing I can actually do yet. Without knowing what their case is, we can’t usefully look at a defence. You understand?’

Naomi nodded.

‘So, it all rests on what evidence they have. They are likely to be using a road traffic investigation unit and they’ll examine the car, the scene, the forensic and medical evidence before considering charges.’

The charred chassis of the car, the bent gatepost, the child – her injuries.

‘They won’t make an arrest while you’re in hospital; you have to be medically fit for questioning. They’ll need time anyway for the various tests to be done and the results assessed.’

‘Will it be causing death by dangerous driving?’ I asked.

Don placed his hands on the table. ‘The CPS will always go for the most serious charge that has a realistic prospect of conviction. For that offence they would need to prove that the driving was dangerous rather than careless and that is something we would seek to challenge. If we cast doubt on the driving being dangerous, they might then seek a lesser charge of careless driving, which carries lower penalties. It’s reasonable to argue that temporarily losing control on a bend is careless rather than dangerous. Then there may be aggravating factors. Had you been drinking or taking drugs?’

‘I can’t remember,’ Naomi said.

‘She did have some champagne,’ Phil said.

‘Earlier in the afternoon,’ I added. ‘We don’t know about later. Suzanne says she was drinking, but Alex says the opposite.’

‘They’ll have taken a blood sample, won’t they?’ Phil said.

‘Yes,’ Don replied. ‘The police will have to furnish proof if they wish to introduce it as evidence. The thing to bear in mind is that the prosecution have to be able to prove every single point of their case in order to take it to court. So to successfully prosecute causing death by careless driving, for example, they have to prove (a) that you were driving the car that evening, (b) that your driving was careless and (c) that the death was as a direct result of that careless driving. Our job is to undermine their case by challenging the evidence and raising doubts. If there are any reasonable doubts, there can’t be a conviction.’