Gillian Jackson - The Accident

Timothy was born nearly sixteen years ago, with Down’s syndrome, but during his short life he taught us so much about love and caring for others. Our only child left us far too soon, when we were not ready to let him go, but we know that he would be the first to want to make his life count for something, to build something positive from such a tragedy.

‘Timmy’s Farm’ is an ambitious project but Timothy always dreamed ‘big’ and we’re learning to do the same. We’ve already been overwhelmed by the generosity and support of many who wish to assist us in the setting up and running of this venture. Links with the Down’s Syndrome Association and several children’s groups have already been established and many have expressed an interest in using ‘Timmy’s Farm’ to help their members interact with, and learn about our animals. Initially we plan to offer four full time jobs to young people with learning disabilities and our dream is that this number will grow and we can offer animal therapy sessions to as many children who need them.

We already have a number of animals, many of which Timmy had ‘collected’ and cared for himself. Today we have George, the pygmy goat with us, as well as several of Timmy’s chickens, rabbits and guinea pigs. We also care for two elderly donkeys and a Shetland pony, and we receive requests to house other animals in need every week. Please feel free to talk to us about our plans and any help you are able to offer will be gratefully appreciated. Our intention is to have an open day in the autumn. We will be announcing the date in the local press and on social media.

Thank you for showing an interest in our plans.

Alan & Cassie Jones

‘I thought that man looked familiar. I remember him from the inquest! Come on, let’s go and talk to him.’ Rosie began to steer Hannah towards Alan Jones.

‘No, I can’t!’ Hannah pulled away, turning to move in the opposite direction.

Rosie noticed Hannah’s distress and she quickly changed direction, hurrying Hannah into a coffee shop.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Rosie said, once they were seated. ‘That was totally crass of me — as usual I stupidly didn’t think.’

‘No, it’s just me being silly. They’re doing something so wonderful, but I simply couldn’t face them.’

‘But why? Did it bring it all back to you, a kind of flashback or something?’

‘I don’t have flashbacks, I still can’t remember anything about that day, it’s just...’ Hannah found it hard to express her feelings but in halting words it all came tumbling out. She admitted to her friend how she was constantly troubled with feelings of guilt, wondering if she was somehow to blame, if she’d done something wrong and inadvertently caused the accident. Then she shared her concerns about driving again, whether she’d have the confidence, or even if she was safe to drive at all. She remained dry-eyed as she spoke but her face was pale and her eyes dull and distant. When she finally ran out of words, Rosie reached out and covered her friend’s hand with her own, squeezing it gently.

‘Hannah, the police investigated the accident thoroughly and the coroner ruled that no one was to blame. I know it’s easy for me to say, but I also know you. You wouldn’t have done anything stupid; you’re the most sensible person I know! I’ve heard you telling people what you think of using a mobile when driving, and drink driving, you’re one of the most fastidious drivers I know. And I’m sorry for almost dragging you into a situation where you’d be uncomfortable. I thought you might be interested, that’s all.’

‘Actually, I am interested, it’s simply that I couldn’t face them, thinking that their son might have died because of me!’

‘No, he didn’t! He died because of an accident, which by definition is no one’s fault. Anyway, I picked up a leaflet about their plans if you are interested?’

Hannah took the leaflet. She might not have felt comfortable talking to the boy’s parents but she was certainly curious to see what they had planned in his memory. As she read through hit, she smiled. ‘Timmy’s Farm’ sounded like a wonderful idea and she resolved to send them a donation, anonymously of course.

After his shocking confrontation with David, Joe was stunned by a second event later that evening. Juliet had replied to his email. He opened up her message and read through it quickly.

My dear Joe,

Your email came as such a shock and I am so terribly saddened to hear of Alison’s death. My thoughts and prayers are with you at this difficult time and I’m only sorry I’m not able to offer my help in any tangible way. What I can do, however, is to tell you what happened to Alison in the hope that you’ll understand why she never told you about the baby. As far as I know she only ever told her mother and myself, and I have to say that Ethel is (and in my opinion always has been) a bitter twisted old woman who didn’t deserve such a caring daughter. I was sworn to secrecy by Alison, but as she is no longer with us I feel certain that she would want you to know the truth, rather than Ethel’s distorted version of it, designed no doubt to repay you for whatever wrong she imagines you have done her.

It happened in about the third month of our first year at uni. Alison and I had rooms next to each other in the halls of residence and we became great friends. As with all the other students, we were enjoying our newfound freedom away from the constraints of home, and there were so many new experiences to enjoy which we threw ourselves into. Alison had been kept very much under Ethel’s thumb at home and was in many ways quite naive, which sadly made her rather vulnerable. I don’t think she’d ever had a boyfriend, so when she was invited out by a third-year student it seemed so exciting. Neither of us knew the boy in question but a date at the cinema seemed innocuous enough and I remember helping her get ready and her anticipation of what was really her very first date. The boy concerned had a car and picked her up from the halls as arranged. I almost envied her, he was rather good looking and confident, quite a catch it seemed, but three hours later a very different Alison was banging on my door. I was horrified to find her bruised and scratched and in a dreadful state. Her ‘date’ had taken her to the cinema and then driven out into the country, where it seemed he expected ‘favours’ for his trouble. When Alison resisted, he raped her, quite violently, then drove her back to the halls and dropped her off outside as if nothing had happened. As you can imagine, she was in an appalling state, but when I suggested we went to the police she became almost hysterical. In those days rape wasn’t always taken seriously by the police, especially what’s now termed ‘date rape’ and Alison was terrified that she wouldn’t be believed, and that telling the police would be like being violated all over again.

I’m sorry, Joe, this must be so very hard for you to read, and I’m sure you know where it’s going. Alison didn’t report the incident and a few weeks later matters were made so much worse for her when she found out she was pregnant. I tried to persuade her to see a doctor and tell him what had happened, sure that she would be offered an abortion, but Alison was horrified at the suggestion and said that it wasn’t the baby’s fault and she couldn’t punish an innocent child. It was so typical of her. She must have been torn apart, yet she bore it stoically.

When the baby began to show, she left uni and returned to face Ethel. I don’t think she ever really told me the half of what she suffered from her mother, who called her a slut and much worse, I’m sure you can imagine. I really can’t believe that Ethel would throw this back at you now after all the trouble she gave her daughter at the time. She really is a selfish old witch! Anyway, the rest you apparently know; Alison had the baby and was quite prepared to devote herself to being a single mother, until fate took over and the baby died.