Penny Vincenzi - The Best Of Times

“Well, I’m glad to have helped.”

“You have. So, so much.” Another sniff, then: “You’d be a great mum, you know. You really should, before it’s too late…”

“Well… thanks,” said Linda.

The police were very kind, very gentle with her.

She sat, her teeth chattering with fright at first, but still telling her story perfectly lucidly, up to the point of the actual crash.

“We were just going along very steadily, chatting. Patrick was absolutely fine, not going fast at all, driving really carefully in the middle lane. We’d been through a storm-that was quite scary; it got very dark, and he slowed down a bit, said the water on the road was dangerous after the heat. But the sun was out again; it had stopped raining. And then-suddenly-there was this great crack of noise and we couldn’t see. Not at all. It wasn’t dark, just everything blurred. It was like being blind. It was so, so frightening, because the windscreen was just… well, you know, impossible to see through. And Patrick just… well, slammed on the brakes and then swerved, quite sharply, and he was hooting and shouting-”

“Shouting? What was he shouting?”

“Oh, things like, ‘For the love of God,’ and, ‘Jesus’-well, he is Irish,” she said with the ghost of a smile. “And then the lorry just wouldn’t stop; it went on and on-it seemed for hours I couldn’t see anything, except out of the side window, and I could see we were going completely across the middle of the road, with the traffic on the other side coming towards us. It was weird; it all happened so slowly. And then… then we stopped. And I felt a sort of violent lurch as the trailer went, and there was this horrible noise and… Oh, dear, sorry.” She started to cry.

“Now, now,” said Sergeant Freeman, “no need for tears; you’ve been most helpful-your account is quite invaluable. With the lorry driver unable to remember anything much, this is the first really lucid account we’ve had. So, what did you think had happened? To cause it?”

“Well, the windscreen shattered. There wasn’t a hole in it; the glass just had all these weird patterns all over it, making it impossible to see.”

“Something hit it, perhaps? Maybe that was the crack you heard.”

“Yes, but what could it have been?”

“That’s for us to find out. You can stop worrying about it now.”

“You’re being so kind,” she said. “You must be so… so shocked at me, by what I did.”

“Miss Linley” Freeman said, “if you saw one percent of what we do, you’d understand that we’re not very easily shocked. Isn’t that right, Constable?”

“Absolutely right,” said Constable Rowe.

“You might be shocked at this, though,” she said, in a voice so low it was almost inaudible. “I think… well, I think some of it… could… could have been my fault. You see, I… well, I dropped a can of drink. As we swerved. On the floor. It was rolling around. I think… it might have interfered with Patrick’s-Mr. Connell’s-brakes. And if I hadn’t done that, maybe he could have stopped. I mean… oh, God-”

“Miss Linley,” said Sergeant Freeman, “we will of course put this into our report. But I really don’t think you should worry about it too much. The brakes in those things are huge, very powerful, and power-assisted. One small can of drink rolling around would not have had the slightest effect. What would you say, Constable?”

Constable Rowe smiled at Georgia and said yes, indeed, he would say the same thing.

He found himself very moved by Georgia ’s distress. She hardly looked old enough to be out in the world at all, let alone hitching lifts in lorries.

“Really?”

“Really. I hope that makes you feel better.”

“It does. A bit.” But she was still looking very uncertain.

“So… you would say the whole accident was caused by this shattering of the windscreen? By Mr. Connell being unable to see? Not because of any other cars? Please think very carefully, Miss Linley; it’s very important. Very important indeed.”

“Oh-definitely, yes. Suddenly, he had to drive without being able to see. It was like he was blindfolded. That was the only reason, I’m sure.”

“Well, that’s pretty clear. Now, let’s just talk about the other cars, Miss Linley. Did you notice any in particular?”

“Oh… a few. You notice everything from up there. I was talking to Patrick, describing things to him; he asked me to, said it helped ward off what he called the monster.”

Sergeant Freeman looked up sharply.

“What monster would that be?”

“Well… being sleepy. He said it was like a sticky monster in his head. But”-she looked at them-“but he was not, I swear to you, not remotely near going to sleep; you really do have to believe me-”

“It’s all right,” said Freeman, and despite the soothing words, Linda thought that she could detect a slight change in his expression. “That’s absolutely fine. Now, go on; tell us about the other cars.”

“Well, there was a lovely car in front. A sports car, maybe an old one, bright red, amazing. By the time of the actual crash, he’d gone. But he was driving very nicely, not speeding.”

“Right. How far ahead was he, would you say? When the windscreen went?”

“I’m not sure. Impossible to say. I mean, I could still see him quite clearly-”

“Could you read the registration number? I mean, was it near enough for you to read it?”

“I… don’t think so. He was pulling ahead quite fast. I s’pose about fifty metres, something like that?”

“Right. What about a dark blue Saab? Did you notice that?”

“Oh-yes. They were beside us. Just before it happened. Well, a bit behind-you can’t see anything when the car’s right beside you. I noticed it in the mirror, and I was interested because it was such a nice car, and there was a man and a woman in it, and they seemed to be quarrelling-she was waving her arms about and stuff. And then-” She stopped. “Look, I don’t want to get anyone into trouble-”

“Don’t worry about that. Tell us what you saw.”

“Well… he did seem to be on a mobile. But then… I heard the crack and Patrick hooting and shouting and… well, I’ve told you the rest.”

“You have indeed. So, there was no question of their driving in any way dangerously? Pulling out in front of the lorry, for instance?”

“No, no, not at all.”

“Right. Well, you’ve been very helpful, Miss Linley very helpful indeed. And try not to worry about that drink can. I really think you can put your mind at rest, although we will put it into the report, of course. One last thing-did you notice a white van at all, with the back doors just tied shut? On the road that afternoon? At any stage?”

“I certainly did. He was driving like a maniac. But he couldn’t have had anything to do with it; he passed us doing about ninety ages before the crash.”

“You didn’t notice any writing on it? Any logos of any kind?”

“No, I’m sorry. Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Was he alone in the van?”

“No. Well, he had a big dog sitting beside him.”

“Well, I really cannot tell you how helpful you’ve been, Miss Linley. You’ve given us an invaluable account, and the information on the other cars is most helpful as well.”

Soon after that, having read her statement and signed it, she was told she was free to go.

“Poor Mr. Connell will be pleased, won’t he?” said Constable Rowe. “S’pose you’ll be letting him know.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Today?”

“No, Monday morning will do perfectly well.”

“Yes, of course,” said Constable Rowe hastily, and then added, “I was wondering: might the windscreen have been shattered by that wheel nut?”