Gillian Jackson - The Accident

‘Are you ready, Joe?’

Ready for what? Joe wondered, but then remembered that they were going to the coroner’s office and the bank.

‘Not dressed yet, mate?’ Phil stated the obvious as he came through the doorway. ‘Do you need a hand? I’m not as pretty as those hospital nurses but I’m happy to help.’

‘Yes, thanks.’ Joe stood up and made his way upstairs, followed by his friend who was doing his best to pretend things were normal, and tactfully didn’t mention the cold tea, or the far too early glass of whisky.

Once outside, the cold air stung Joe’s face, strangely making him feel somewhat better. Having a purpose took his mind off the horror of the accident and its distressing consequences.

First stop was the coroner’s office where he presented the medical certificate from the hospital and, after a reasonable wait, received an interim death certificate. Next, they moved on to the bank where Alison’s accounts were frozen until probate was granted on the will.

Phil seemed to understand what needed to be done and took the lead, for which Joe was grateful. There was so much to think about when all he really wanted to do was to get back home to see his dog, and feel the weight of that glass of whisky in his hand, warm and comforting.

‘We wondered if you wanted us to take you to see Alison’s mother this afternoon, or is it too soon?’ Phil asked.

‘I suppose I should, but she’s really the last person I want to see. You must think me awful, but we never really hit it off and I don’t think I can face her grief as well.’

‘That’s fine, I understand. Let us know when you do feel up to it and we’ll come with you; it might make the visit easier.’

‘Thanks, another day perhaps, but I’ll ring her later this afternoon, although I can’t tell her a date for the funeral yet, goodness knows what she’ll say to that.’ It wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to.

On his return, Liffey greeted Joe with her usual enthusiasm which was so welcome in his present state of mind. He let her out into the garden and then fed her before returning to the kitchen where he picked up a slice of the cold toast and ate it, all the while looking at the glass of whisky which was exactly where he’d left it.

In his heart, Joe knew that if he gave in and drank the golden liquid, it would bring only temporary relief to his grief, so with great determination he picked up the cold tea instead and put it in the microwave to re-heat. Drinking it with the other slice of toast at least took away the light-headedness he was beginning to feel.

Joe was well aware that he needed to be sensible; Alison wouldn’t want him to go to pieces and would be the first one to tell him that he must go on living. He finished the tea and toast, went back into the lounge and lay down on the sofa where he closed his eyes and soon fell into a deep sleep.

The doorbell woke him and he went to answer it, finding a young police constable standing in the porch.

‘Mr Parker? I’d like to ask you some questions about the road traffic accident you were involved in recently.’

The officer seemed glad to be invited inside out of the bitter wind, which was now blowing yet more snow into drifts at the side of the road.

‘I’m sorry for your loss and I know this is a difficult time for you, but I’m sure you understand that we need to move ahead quickly with our investigation.’

The young officer took out a notebook and asked Joe to describe everything he remembered.

‘It’s a bit of a blur really,’ Joe told him. ‘The weather was bloody awful, rather like today but even colder, and the rain was pelting down and almost freezing as it touched the road. We were on the motorway and the traffic was moving steadily as we approached a junction, then suddenly a Ford Focus appeared from the slip road, spun round 180 degrees, and its rear end crashed into a lorry on the motorway.’ He wracked his brains trying to think of something else to say but he couldn’t remember much other than that. ‘I tried to brake but the brakes couldn’t grip the icy road and my car skidded too. There was no way I could avoid crashing straight into the front of her car. Is she one of those who died?’

‘No, the driver of the Ford Focus is still in hospital. And what happened once you were stationary?’ The constable was scribbling everything down.

‘We felt something crash into us from behind but with the windscreen shattered and the air bag I couldn’t see what was happening outside the car ... and my wife, she was unconscious, I was focussed on her...’ For an instant Joe was back in the car, calling Alison’s name with no response. His eyes became moist as he swallowed hard to prevent himself from breaking down.

‘I’m sorry, Mr Parker; I know this must be distressing for you. Did you feel the impact from any other vehicles at all?’

‘Yes, we seemed to be jolted several times, but I don’t remember exactly how many.’

‘Well, if you do think of anything else would you give me a ring?’ The officer handed him a card.

‘It wasn’t anyone’s fault, was it? I mean, it was the ice that caused the accident, surely?’

‘It appears so, but as with all RTAs we have to investigate and there’ll be a coroner’s hearing too, when you’ll probably be called as a witness. We’ll keep you updated with the investigation, and thanks for your help.’

When the constable left Joe thought of so many things he’d wanted to ask, like how many cars were involved and how many people injured, but he’d have to wait, probably until the inquest. One more thing to endure alone , he thought.

Joe was in somewhat of a daze but could put it off no longer; he picked up the telephone and tapped in his mother-in-law’s number.

‘About time too!’ was the angry greeting from her. ‘My only daughter dies and you don’t phone me until three days later!’

‘Ethel, I’ve been in hospital myself with a broken collarbone, and she wasn’t only your daughter, she was my wife.’ Joe really wanted to slam the phone down but he tried to exercise a degree of patience, if only for Ali’s sake.

‘Well, how do you think I’ve felt not knowing what had happened to her, and you not answering the phone?’ His mother-in-law always looked at everything from her own perspective, how it would affect her, never mind anyone else.

‘I did ask the chaplain in hospital to let you know. Didn’t he send a policeman round to tell you?’

‘He did, and what an awful way to hear such news.’ Ethel sniffed, obviously disappointed with Joe, a sentiment which was pretty much par for the course. ‘So who’s going to look after me now? I’m nearly out of milk — can you fetch some round?’

‘Ethel, I’ve just told you, I have a broken collarbone. The car is off the road too, but I won’t be able to drive for a few weeks anyway. One of the reasons I rang was to let you know that I can’t arrange a funeral until after the coroner’s inquest. I don’t know how long that will be but I’ll let you know as soon as I do.’

‘Well, perhaps you should insist that they get on with it! It’s not right, my poor girl not even getting laid to rest, who do they think they are?’

‘There’s nothing we can do to hurry the process and it’s only right that they investigate the accident. There were two others who lost their lives that day as well as Alison — we’ll just have to be patient.’

‘And what do I do in the meantime?’ Ethel was back to thinking of herself again.

‘You’ll have to ring social services and ask about getting some help; I know Alison talked to you about it before.’

‘But I’ll have to pay for that!’

Joe was getting annoyed; it wasn’t as if the old lady couldn’t afford to pay for her care, money was really no problem, except that she didn’t like to spend it.