I ended the call and managed to get past the tanker. It was a pyrrhic victory, because once past him I couldn't go much faster, the sleet was thickening to snow, just what I needed. I noticed that the concentration of seeing where I was going and keeping the speed and direction safe, was making me grasp the steering wheel much harder than usual. My wrists were aching, and I relaxed my grip, but a few minutes later, I was doing it again and the tension across my shoulders was aching too.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad
part 5x33 (well ya gotta keep your brains active, especially reading this mush).

"Why did I have to study so far from home?" I said to myself as I tried again in vain to overtake the milk tanker. It was still sleeting, and making visibility worse than usual, but the car was warm and I had all the emergency things they tell you to take.

Well a variation on them, I had walking boots instead of gumboots or wellies as we Brit's call 'em. I had gaiters and waterproof trousers if I needed them, plus a warm weatherproof coat and gloves, a hat and scarf. I had the folding shovel and something to eat and drink.

I kept a torch and spare batteries in the car, one of the Mini-maglites, so I could deal with darkness to some extent too, and there was a travel rug on the back seat.

The boot of the car carried my wet weather riding gear and the overnight bag of clothes I might wear or needed to wash. I was going to be too late now to see my dad, so using my handsfree called the hospital and asked them to tell him I'd see him tomorrow, weather permitting.

I ended the call and managed to get past the tanker. It was a pyrrhic victory because once past him I couldn't go much faster, the sleet was thickening to snow, just what I needed. I noticed that the concentration of seeing where I was going and keeping the speed and direction safe, was making me grasp the steering wheel much harder than usual. My wrists were aching, and I relaxed my grip, but a few minutes later, I was doing it again and the tension across my shoulders was aching too.

I stayed with motorways as much as I could and 'A' roads after that, of which Dorset and bits of Somerset have loads, with poor surfaces and lighting. Finally, I got to the M5 and headed north for Bristol.

I find motorway driving a pain, it can get very boring unless you are belting along above the speed limit. I tend not to do this too often now as they have speed cameras all over the place and the traffic is often too heavy. On a night like this, I was lucky to be moving at the forty miles an hour that we were doing. The traffic was solid on both sides of me and in front and behind. We moved like a gigantic organism, a giant linear amoeba, the protoplasm made up of hundreds of cars and trucks.

Then it stopped altogether, and hazard lights came on, then people were getting out of cars, and then I saw the flames. I grabbed the extinguisher and locking my car as I ran towards the fire, I began to get an idea of what had happened.

Somehow a 4x4 had gone off road and up the bank, rolling and catching fire, there were screams coming from inside the car. People were stood around looking helpless. Jesus, what are they waiting for?

"Switch the engine off, " I shouted at the driver who was banging on the window, I gestured the cut throat gesture to him. For a moment he carried on banging then turned off the engine. It was diesel, so there was less chance of it exploding, and the wind was blowing the flames from the car, although both front tyres were blazing and the stink was awful.

I emptied my extinguisher into the engine compartment, it wasn't going to stop it but at least it would buy time. Two men had brought their wheel braces and were smashing at the windows of the inverted car, and I helped them to pull out the three adults, all of whom where very dazed.

I heard a baby cry, just as the fire regained it's intensity. "Oh no, there's a baby in there." I screamed and ran to the back of the car.

"Come back, wait for the fire engine," called a man's voice, "It's too dangerous."

"Yeah whatever," I knelt down and began to look inside the car, the smell was awful, the fumes would get the baby in no time. Everything was upside down, and at last I could see the child stuck in it's seat by the harness, it was crying bitterly, really frightened, something we had in common.

The mother had now regained enough of her wits to be screaming behind me. I hoped my arms were long enough. I rolled onto my back, bumping my head on all sorts of bits that had been shaken onto the ceiling of the car, which was temporarily the floor.

I could see flames now coming through the dashboard. I wriggled as quickly as I could, pulling myself along on the tops of the headrests of the front seats.

I could hardly breathe and the baby went quiet, "Shit, I have to move faster," I told myself.

"Get out," voices were shouting at me interspersed with screams from the anguished parents.

The harness wasn't anything I had seen before and my eyes were streaming from the smoke, I couldn't see much at all. I pulled at the clasp in all directions, my head was spinning and I felt sick and almost blinded.

I don't know what I did, but the baby suddenly dropped into my arms and I tried to move back the way I'd come. I was slipping on the rubbish in the car and the wet from the sleet and a broken water bottle. I began to think I was going to die, as things started to go black, when somebody grabbed my feet and started pulling.

I felt them pull me out onto the wet grass and the rain felt wonderful on my face, I coughed and after sitting up was sick. Someone who seemed to know what he was doing was administering CPR to the baby, while others were reassuring the parents. Ten yards away the car was burning fiercely. Someone helped me up and we moved further away.

A fire appliance arrived, and I was given oxygen after the baby. Because of the traffic pile up the ambulance had difficulty threading its way through, but finally, the baby and its parents were taken away. By now, I was breathing okay and the nausea had gone. I accepted the water that someone offered and went to go back to my car.

"My keys!" I felt around for them, I felt completely gutted, I'd dropped my keys somewhere, and my car was blocking the road, or one lane of it.

"But I need to get my keys, they must be in the car." I pleaded with the fire chief.

"No way love, You are not going near that until it is safe."

"But my car," I pointed at it.

"Sorry," he shook his head. I was glad we managed to get the baby out, but this I did not need, besides my coat and things were in my car and I was getting cold and wet.

Then I spotted something on the grass, I dipped past the firemen and checked it out. "Phew," I sighed picking up the metal and plastic item, with the three legged Mercedes logo on it.

The police eventually arrived and for some reason took my name and address, I gave them the Bristol one. I slipped off the wet sweater and turned up the heater, and finally managed to filter into the moving traffic and get on my way. I got home at after eleven, I was knackered and my throat hurt like hell, plus I was coughing.

The phone was ringing, it was Simon. "Where have you been?"

"I stopped to help at an accident, helped to get a baby out of a burning car," I said all this interspersed with coughs and wheezes.

"Have you been checked out?"

"No, just got home."

"Get yourself to hospital and have them check you out."

"I'll go in the morning."

"Go now, or I'll call for an ambulance."

"You would too, wouldn't you?"

"Hell, Cathy, where you're concerned I'd send for the SAS."

"That's sweet," I said in between coughs.

To avoid the ambulance, I drove to Southmead, yeah the nearest casualty unit, ironic or what? I waited and was eventually called and seen by a doctor.

He made me sit with an oxygen mask, whereupon I fell asleep, I was so tired. He woke me an hour later. "Are you the woman who pulled the baby out of the car?"

"What?" I mumbled trying to wake up.

"Did you pull a baby out of a burning car?"

"Why, did I do wrong?"

"No you saved her life, she's critical but she's alive in the ICU. Her dad wants to thank you. Can he speak to you?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," I coughed and he handed me a receiver to spit into, it was horrible grey muck, no wonder I couldn't stop coughing.

A young man, perhaps twenty-seven or so came into my cubicle. His eyes were red and wet with tears. "I don't know how to thank you."

"It's okay."

"No, it isn't. It's all my fault, I must have nodded off and next thing we're upside down and on fire. I panicked."

"So would I," I admitted, coughing.

"You told me to switch off the engine and helped to keep back the fire."

"I did what anyone would have done."

"No, you didn't you took charge."

"Not really, it was just the others had to get something to break the windows with. I already had the fire extinguisher in my hands."

"You saved my baby."

"Only just, I think you have to thank whoever it was pulled me out, they saved both of us."

"But you risked your life, for my baby girl."

"I didn't think, there was a baby crying in a dangerous place, and I was the smallest one to be able to wriggle in and grab her."

"No the rest were moving away, they were too frightened, only you and the bloke who pulled you out stayed."

"I think I need to thank him, myself."

"We don't know who he was."

I shrugged, maybe I'd find out later, from the police or something. "Thanks for coming to see me, but hadn't you better get back to your wife and baby?"

"Yes, I'm Brian Ford," he said shaking my hand.

"Cathy Watts, what is your baby's name?"

"Meredith," he said, beaming.

"I hope she's okay soon."

"Thanks again," he said and went.

I spat out some more of the crap from my lungs, coughed and spat some more.

"How'd'ya feel now?" asked the doctor.

"A bit better." I did, I only felt half dead now.

He gave me an inhaler and some expectorant tablets, he also gave me antibiotics. "If it doesn't feel any better tomorrow come back here, see your own doctor as soon as you can."

I calculated that would be monday, assuming I wasn't dead. It suddenly occurred if I'd buggered up my chest, the surgery might not happen. Oh great. But then, I couldn't live with myself if I'd let the little girl die without at least trying to save her. Wasn't sure about the choice of name, but there ya go.

I got home at five, and called Simon, he was up and relieved to hear me speak. I was still coughing and spitting, but it did feel easier. He went off on one about calling a favour in and getting me to see the Queen's chest physician on Saturday. I managed to tell him I was okay and would be fine by the time I got back down to him.

I crashed on my bed and zonked out until the phone rang, it was nearly midday.

"I thought we had a bike ride booked."

"Oh yeah," I croaked, my throat sore and dry, desperately needing a cuppa.

"Hey what's the problem, you sound rough," said Des, sounding concerned.

"Yeah," I croaked, "smoke inhalation."

"What, like in fire?"

"Yeah," I croaked and coughed, spitting into the tissue. It wasn't quite as dark.

"Can I come round, we can talk, it's a bit cold for a ride anyway."

"You'll have to give me an hour to get myself ready."

"I'll bring some lunch, how about some French bread, cheese and a bottle of wine?"

"I can't drink, tablets," I said before a bigger eruption of coughing stopped me. More gubbins in the tissue, this time it was dark grey, and I frowned at it.

"See you in about ninety minutes, is that okay?"

It was, I made up some sponge mix and bunged it in the oven before dashing into the shower. I don't know why I wanted to make an impression on Des, I mean he needed me more than I did him. But I had this frisson inside me, I couldn't explain.

I wanted to appear girly, but my chest and head felt differently, I ate some fruit and had some tea, then took the sponge out, "Let him eat cake," meaning my father, I said to the fridge, but it wasn't impressed.

The coughing had largely stopped by the time the doorbell rang, and I had managed to put on some mascara without removing an eyeball - you try it when you're coughing. I'd also dressed in some embroidered jeans and a mohair top - with a tee shirt underneath, otherwise, it itches.

"Wow, you look good for a fire survivor, here, these are for you." He handed me a bunch of flowers.

"Thank you," I said accepting the roses and carnations, all in yellow, "You shouldn't have." Why do we women say that to someone who gives us flowers? If they said okay and took them back, we'd kill them!

"I got some fresh soups too, is that okay."

"Yes super." I laughed realising my unconscious pun, super soup.

"I heard on the radio that someone pulled a child out of a burning car on the motorway last night."

"Let me take the food," I said putting the flowers down on the hall table, I was also blushing.

"They said it was a woman."

"Shall we sit at the table?" I ignored him laying places at the kitchen table, the two soups were the same, great, I could save some for Daddy, he may not notice, and pigs will fly.

"It was you, wasn't it?"

"What?" I feigned ignorance.

"Pulled the little girl from the car."

"I can't remember, what time did you say it happened?"

"Cathy, it was you," he said loudly. I shrugged at him, I couldn't lie at the best of times, well I could but I didn't want to.

"So, let's eat, I'm starving."

We did and he asked me about the fire. I told him what I could remember, thinking I was going to die with the baby, was the worst bit.

"Can I do an interview for the BBC, it would be a nice scoop and I'll get you a fee."

"What for?" I was genuinely appalled.

"It's what they call human interest, it makes people feel good because everyone survived, and that sort of thing must be everyone's worst nightmare."

"How much?"

"I'll see if I can get you a hundred. Most people do them for free, but I'll say you're a special case."

"And if I say okay, I'll have the press around tomorrow."

"Not if we have an exclusive, and I'll give a copy to the agency to distribute, it tends to take the impetus out of things."

"Okay then."

"I'll go and get my camera."

What had I got myself into this time? Maybe I should just go round in my Superman tee shirt. Nah, don't have the red cape.

"For the exclusive, they'll give you two hundred and fifty."

"What?" I gasped, "Just for talking to you?"

"Ah no, they'd like you to come into the studio and do a formal interview with one of the news team."

"Don't mention the disappearing dormouse," I said quickly.

"They already know, and your engagement, and the bag snatcher."

"Oh shit. Why can't you do it and we'll forget the money."

"I can't, I said I'd take you to the studio."

"What if I've changed my mind?"

"They'll still run some sort of story, but the tabloids will be around sniffing for something, especially with your other form."

A sense of panic flashed through me, "What do you mean?"

"Well, the dormouse and the bag snatcher and your engagement."

"Why is that interesting to anyone?"

"Oh come on Cathy, in the last week you've done more than most people do in a lifetime, you're like some superhero."

"But I don't want to be, I'm just an ordinary woman doing what anyone would do."

"Your modesty is quite charming, but it isn't deserved."

"I have to go and see my dad at Southmead, if I don't take him food, he won't eat. He refuses hospital meals." I looked at him, "Don't you even think about it."

"I wasn't, look I'm not some chancer, it was just coincident that I put two and two together and realised you made them four. You're an amazing woman, and I feel privileged to know you."

"I need to get somethings ready to take to the hospital, I'll follow you in your car." I looked at my watch. "I am leaving that place to go and see my dad at four whether or not they've interviewed me."

"Okay, I'll tell them."

"I mean it, Des, I walk at four no matter what," I said firmly.

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Comments please, smoke signals are acceptable.