Easy As Failing On A Bike.
by Angharad
part: three hundred and seventy bloody five!

Time seemed to hang, as the phone rang again. Then it stopped as Stella picked it up. Tom and I looked at each other. She came back in. "Wrong bloody number," she banged her hand on the table in frustration.

We had another pot of tea and Tom suggested we all went to bed, as sitting up waiting achieved nothing. Stella helped me up the stairs and then decided to sleep with me.

"Do you mind?" she asked.

"If you can cope with my grunting and groaning, feel free." I grimaced as I undressed.

"Geez, Cathy, you have some lovely bruises."

"How can bruises be lovely?" I winced as she touched them.

"Arnica, that's what you need, I have some in my room." She disappeared presumably to get them. I hoped she meant pills not cream.

She returned a few moments later with a small tube of homeopathic pills. I read the instructions and took a couple of them. As a scientist, I was aware of the dismissal of homeopathy by mainline medicine, but if it would have helped I'd have drunk nettle juice.

I slept fitfully, and I suspect Stella did, too. I heard her talking in her sleep, it didn't sound as if she was enjoying the dream, so I gently told her she was okay. She rolled over and slept more peacefully after that. I crept out to the loo - all that wretched tea!

At about six the next morning, there was a ringing on the front door bell. I struggled to get out of bed, Stella woke and blearily got up and looked out the window. "Shit, it's the police, Simon - oh my God!"

"Oh no!" I wailed and followed her down the stairs, my aches and pains temporarily forgotten. I got to the hall a few steps behind her. She opened the door.

"Lady Catherine Cameron?" he asked Stella.

"No, I'm Stella Cameron, it's my sister in law you want."

"Lady Cameron?"he addressed me.

"I'm Catherine, yes."

"May we come in?"

We showed them into the lounge, by which time Tom was also up. "We may have some bad news for you."

"Yes," I said and Stella rushed to my side.

"We have a report of an accident on the M3, your husband's car has been involved and it's very badly damaged by fire. It appears it hit a tanker and they both exploded into a huge fireball. The motorway has been closed all night."

I felt myself swaying, thankfully so did Stella, "Tom, a chair, quickly."

He snatched up a spare dining chair and they shoved it behind me. I collapsed on to it.

"Is my brother dead?" asked Stella.

"I'm afraid the driver of the car is, so is the tanker driver."

"When did this happen?" asked Tom.

"According to witnesses, about one, this morning. They said the car was being driven erratically and was speeding. We have some videos of the car being driven in excess of a hundred miles per hour."

"Why would Simon be driving at that speed?"

"Was he in a hurry?"

"Why, he could have phoned to say he was held up. It doesn't make sense." I was somehow too shocked to cry. First me, now him. It made no sense.

"Do we need to identify a body?"

"I'm afraid, any remains are too badly burned to recognise. It'll be from dental records now, could we have the name of his dentist?"

"Yes, erm, I can't remember, can you, Stella?"

"Yeah, Sam Hodson, in Hampstead, we've gone there since we were kids."

"Okay thanks." The young copper noted it in his notebook, and Stella went and got her address book which gave chapter, verse and phone number.

"But we don't know if it was Simon, do we?" I said pathetically, knowing that he'd had kittens when I drove his car.

"No ma'am, we don't for sure and may not for some days."

"Oh great!" I sighed.

"I'm sorry, but that's the way it is in these things."

"We think there were two in the car, any idea who the other might be?"

"Two? No, officer, I have no idea, maybe a hitchhiker?"

"Could be. Okay thanks for your help, sorry to be the bearers of bad news. Please accept our condolences. Is there anyone you want to speak to?"

"Only Simon," I said shaking my head. "I can't take this in."

"You going to be okay, Lady Catherine?" asked the second copper.

"We'll look after her," said Tom, "can I show you out?"

"This can't be happening? I won't believe it," I said. "Simon, can't be dead, he just can't be."

"Who was the second person?" asked Stella.

"I need some coffee, strong and black." Tom went out to the kitchen.

"Tell me this is a bad dream," I said to Stella.

"Yeah, a veritable nightmare. Hang on in there kid, you'll wake up in a minute and find my brother sucking on your boob."

The absurdity of what she said made me laugh, and laugh and finally I lost it in a bout of hysterical laughter. I vaguely recall Stella helping me into bed, but after that I can't remember much at all, except this sense of emptiness, clawing away inside me, then sleep.