Faith Read Free Page B

broken, his head is twisted at an impossible angle. His eyes are open, unseeing behind the Perspex of his helmet mask.
    I start to shake, then sob. Ewan’s arm is around my shoulders, his quiet strength holding me up when I would have flung myself across Ed’s dead body.
    “There’s nothing we can do for him now. Come away, Faith. Sit in the car until the ambulance gets here.”
    I let him lead me back up the banking onto the road. By now a couple more vehicles have arrived, including a police car. The officers take charge of the situation, controlling traffic, radioing for the ambulance to hurry up. Despite my dazed and disjointed grasp on the situation, I know this has to be for Caroline, because there would be no point rushing around for Ed. Not now. The officers inspect the scene, satisfy themselves there really is nothing to be done for the casualty down the banking, and concentrate their efforts on the living.
    The doctor also makes a short trip down the ditch to satisfy himself that Ed is beyond his help, then returns to Caroline. She’s in a bad way, her breathing more shallow. Ewan kneels beside her, holding her hand as the doctor does his best. Her face is grey, her eyes rolling in her head. She’s unconscious now.
    “She’s stopped breathing.” The doctor has managed to insert a tube into Caroline’s mouth and throat without removing the helmet. Now he starts pumping air from a rubber bag into her. He gestures to his wife to come and take over as he moves on to perform heart compressions.
    With a detachment borne of shock and grief, I know it will be to no avail.
    The ambulance arrives, the paramedics take over. They have a doctor on board who declares both casualties dead at the scene.
    As the paramedics load Caroline’s lifeless body into the ambulance, Ewan turns to me, his expression bleak. His eyes are hard, glittering with grief and tears yet to come.
    I don’t blame him. His Carrie is gone, dead and cold.
    It should have been me.

Chapter Two
     
     
    The days following the crash are a blur, a whirlwind of frenzied activity. First the hospital, then the police. I go through all of it in a sort of daze, on autopilot, doing as I’m told, completing tasks and making arrangements, dealing with all the things that everyone around me insist must be done at a time like this.
    A time like this? What on earth is that supposed to mean? I can’t even start to imagine any other time which could be even remotely similar to this.
    My sister comes to stay with me, dropping everything to rush to Yorkshire from her home in Glasgow. She waves away my protests, insists her husband and their two children will be fine, her mother-in-law will see to that while she sees to me. I’m glad of Helen’s presence, her cool, calm competency. I’m not at all convinced I’d have managed without her. She won’t hear a word of thanks or appreciation.
    “That’s what family is for. You’d do the same for me.”
    Perhaps I would. I’d at least try. I doubt I’d have done anything like such a good job.
    It’s Helen who sits with me while the police ask their questions. It’s Helen who holds my hand as the cause of death is confirmed—not that there was ever any room for doubt. Multiple injuries, the most notable being a broken neck. I’m assured he died instantly, though I’m not sure I can draw the comfort from that which is implied. I had no opportunity to say goodbye. I was angry with Ed that day, resentful that he’d insisted we go out even though he knew I didn’t want to. He was gone so suddenly, I never got to set that right.
    The familiar refrain reverberates around my head. It should have been me lying on that slab in the mortuary. It should have been me in that coffin, wept over by more than a hundred mourners. It would have been but for a quirk of fate, a twist of destiny that put Caroline on the back of Ed’s bike on the day he decided to play daredevil.
    The accident investigators do their job,