Gillian Jackson - The Accident

Another bright spot in Hannah’s life was Joe Parker. He was becoming a valued friend, someone she could talk to quite openly and she was sure he felt the same. They’d had several telephone conversations, and Joe rang most weeks just to catch up and chat about what was happening in their lives. They also exchanged occasional emails, something she enjoyed writing, particularly at night when her leg was troubling her.

Joe was always interested in the twins and in what was happening at Timmy’s Farm, so she had plenty to write about and in return, he shared what was happening in his own life. It seemed to be the most natural thing in the world for them to be open and honest with each other, a fact Hannah truly appreciated; she’d had her fill of secrets and heartbreak, and wanted to carve out a different future for herself.

The meadow was so much greener now after being parched the colour of straw during much of the long, dry summer, and it remained Liffey’s favourite playground. It was November and the wind was bracing, but that didn’t put either of them off and at least it was dry. During the hot weather, Liffey had splashed happily in the stream, which almost disappeared at the height of the heatwave when water became scarce, and then rolled enthusiastically in the long grass, drying off her coat and bringing a smile to Joe’s face.

He enjoyed their walks together and liked to think that Alison watched down on them during their frequent forays to the meadow; she too had loved this place, especially in the early morning, and they’d so often laughed together at their dog’s antics.

Joe no longer felt guilty at taking pleasure in the small things of life and a strange feeling often wrapped itself around him like a cloak, as if Ali was somehow encouraging him to live again, giving him permission to smile and laugh without that awful haunting sense of guilt hanging over him.

In the sky above, clouds swirled in a moody grey mass, but rain would be a welcome change, a blessing for the still dry earth. It was Saturday and Joe had spent more time in the meadow than usual, with nothing special to get home for, but Liffey was looking tired after bounding around chasing shadows of rabbits, so he turned to walk home.

The telephone was ringing as he unlocked the door and Joe was surprised to hear Detective Sergeant Armstrong on the line.

‘Good morning, Mr Parker. I hope I’m not disturbing your Saturday?’

‘Not at all. I’ve just come in actually — walking the dog, you know?’ Joe knew the call would concern Pamela and almost dreaded what the latest development might be.

‘I wanted to update you on your sister-in-law’s situation. It appears that the psychiatric evaluations are now complete and the recommendation is that Pamela Parker is unfit to stand trial.’

DS Armstrong paused to let the news sink in. Joe’s initial feeling was relief, as this meant he would not have to testify, but on the other hand, did it mean that Pam would get away with murdering his brother?

‘So what will happen to her? Will she stand trial at a later date?’ he asked.

‘That seems unlikely. I’ve seen the medical reports. They seem to suggest that Mrs Parker’s violent episodes have continued to escalate and she needs long term medication and supervision. The recommendation is treatment and detention in a secure institution. The report is quite lengthy and rather wordy as these things are, but I’m sure it could be made available to you if you wish to see it. It contains the usual jargon regarding biological and neurological reasons for her “condition”, but doesn’t hold out much hope of any change in the near future. As I say, my work on this case is now done and I just wanted to update you on what is, or rather, isn’t, happening.’

‘I don’t want to see the report. There’s no point in reading it as far as I can see. In a way I’m sorry that Pam won’t be held accountable for her actions, but if, as it seems, she’s had some kind of mental breakdown then we’ll just have to accept that she’ll be in the best place. At least she won’t be able to harm anyone else where she is.’ Joe was keen to finish the conversation and try to assimilate his thoughts on this latest development. ‘Thank you for keeping me informed, DS Armstrong. I appreciate your efforts.

The call ended and Joe smiled. He’s got me talking like a textbook now too , he thought. He made coffee and sat in the conservatory to collect his thoughts. Perhaps this was the best outcome after all. He was fed up with all the worry and negativity of late and if this was the best he could expect, then so be it, he’d take it, and hopefully put an end to this chapter in his life.

Joe needed to tell someone and his first thought was of Hannah Graham, so he picked up the telephone and tapped in her number. Since they’d met at Timmy’s Farm, he’d rung several times and they’d chatted quite easily; a comfortable bond seemed to have formed between them and it felt as if they’d known each other for years rather than just a few short months.

Joe needed to talk and he knew already that Hannah was a good listener. Perhaps he’d suggest that they go out for a meal that evening, if she was free of course. As he listened to the ringtone at the other end of the line, he found he was really looking forward to the prospect of a night out with her.

‘I’d love to have dinner with you, Joe, what a lovely idea.’ Hannah sounded genuinely pleased, making Joe wish he’d asked sooner. ‘The twins left for university this week so a bit of cheering up is in order, thank you.’

Joe picked Hannah up later that evening and took her to a new restaurant which had been receiving rave reviews for its food. It was housed in a delightful conservatory addition to a traditional village pub, The Greyhound, and was bright and spacious with a delicious aroma wafting in from the kitchen.

They were shown to a corner table, prettily set for two, with a single rose and a lighted candle. The room was quite full but the space between the tables was generous, so they didn’t feel that their conversation would be overheard. A waiter left the menus with them and they took their time over their choices.

When their food was ordered and a glass of wine poured for them both, they quite naturally fell into easy conversation. Joe remarked on how lovely Hannah looked and a blush rose to her cheeks. He then moved on to describe his conversation with DS Armstrong, while she listened intently.

‘Perhaps it’s for the best,’ she commented when he was finished talking. ‘I know how much you were dreading testifying in court, so this could be a good thing, couldn’t it?’

‘Yes, I suppose so, but I hate the thought that she won’t stand trial and be punished for what she did.’

‘She’ll lose her freedom wherever she’s held, and I shouldn’t think a secure institute is much different from prison. Who knows, if it had gone to trial she might even have succeeded in painting David out to be the villain she said he was and got away with a more lenient sentence.’

‘You’re right. I need to put it behind me. There’s nothing else I can do, is there? Now, tell me how it went with Mel and Sam. Are they all settled in?’

‘Oh yes, and loving it by all accounts. They’re both good at making friends so I know they’ll be okay.’

‘But you’re their mother and you’ll worry anyway?’ Joe added, noticing the sadness creep into her eyes.

‘Yes, you’re right.’ She smiled. ‘But it’s in the job description so I’m allowed!’

The conversation moved on to other topics. Hannah filled him in on her work with Cassie and Alan, and the evening passed far too quickly for them both.