The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1875 by Angharad Copyright © 2012 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

The drive back was going to be a nightmare, so I pulled over and phoned home, saying not to keep us dinner, that we’d eat in Bristol and come back when the traffic had died down a bit.

Phoebe looked at me with one of those enigmatic expressions only teenagers can produce. “How about we have fish and chips?” I asked.

“Okay,” she said the expression remaining.

“If you want we could eat at my parent’s house?”

“I wondered why you weren’t pushing on through the traffic.”

Was I that easy to read? However, one of the advantages of local knowledge is knowing where they make the best fish and chips, so after we got to my house and switched on some heating, I gave Phoebe the grand tour and we had a cuppa–I got some milk on the way–we went off to get some fish and chips, plus peas for her and beans for me.

By now it was absolutely pouring down, and I put the telly on for the news, only to hear the motorway was closed due to flooding. Wonderful, just what we didn’t need. The meal was lovely, and as I washed up listening to local radio, Phoebe came to say the motorway was likely to be closed for several hours, because apart from the flooding there was now a multiple accident.

Just after she told me, the local radio station confirmed the problem. I wasn’t sure if I was glad we’d stopped or wished we’d pressed on–but then we might have been caught in the flooding, and trying to use smaller roads would be asking for trouble.

“Is there anything you’re missing at college tomorrow?”

“Not a lot, why?”

“Well, unless things get a lot better, I think we might be spending the night here.”

“Oh,” she said, and I couldn’t tell if she was happy or not from her expression.

“Either that or we try for the train–I’ll stay here with my car, but I’ll pop you on the train and Simon can collect you the other end.”

“There’s been a landslide somewhere on the railways, so it looks like we’re meant to be here tonight.”

I plugged in my laptop and called up the railway sites and it appeared there’d be no trains between South Wales and Portsmouth, which is usually where they start coming down through Bristol and Bath. At least the house was warming up and I got out some bedding which we’d take back with us to wash and then return. I kept a few clothes in my wardrobe too, including a nightdress which Phoebe insisted I use. She was contented to wear an old tee shirt of mine which was big on me. Quite why I’d bought one that size puzzled me, I couldn’t for the life of me remember buying it.

“This is like an adventure,” Phoebe chuckled.

“Is it?” I answered absently, checking out how much milk and teabags we had for breakfast. In the end I decided to get some bread and cereal and some more milk. We dashed out to the car and I drove off to the nearest supermarket.

It was still hammering down when we ran from the car to the store, and I’d changed into a spare pair of jeans and my flat shoes with a top I found in my chest of drawers. I keep a waterproof in the car, so I was okay, but Phoebe only had her thin coat on and the rain was going straight through it.

Once inside Asda–which is owned by the Walmart corporation–we grabbed the bits we needed for breakfast and also to make a sandwich for the return home, well you never know. Then we went into the home and wear and I bought Phoebe a nightdress and a waterproof coat thing in nylon lined with polyurethane–thin as tissue paper but waterproof. It folded up into a pocket, so she could carry it with her if she suspected there was rain about.

For a treat on the way back, we grabbed a couple of cream cakes from the bakery which had been reduced in price, but sadly not in calories. Going back to the car, Phoebe sporting her new coat, we stopped to wait for a car to go past when we heard a huge crack come from the centre of the car park and the limb of a mature tree crashed to the ground hitting a car on its way.

I gave Phoebe the keys to my car and the bag of shopping and rushed off to check there was no one in the car. There were lights on in the back of the car, though there seemed to be little movement from inside.

I saw someone else running towards it and we arrived together. A glance showed us there was someone trapped inside and they weren’t moving. In the light from a nearby lamppost I thought I could see a dark stain on the person’s head. Amazingly, although the roof had caved in neither the windscreen nor the side windows had broken, and of course all the doors were locked.

The other rescuer pulled out his phone and called the emergency services. They were on their way, but that would likely be seven or eight minutes away. I peered through the window and the mark was noticeably bigger on the victim’s face, a middle-aged man.

“He’s got a nasty head wound,” I said, still peering in through the window which was now misting up on the inside. We yanked at the doors but they were staying locked. We’d have to break a window. Phoebe arrived pushing a trolley out of the way. I looked at the young bloke who was standing there with me getting soaked and we had a moment of convergent thinking. We picked up the trolley between us and together we swung it at the driver’s side window.

There was sickening crunch and the window tinkled out onto the ground and into the car. While he disposed of the trolley, I reached in and unlocked the car, which was now beeping and flashing its hazard lights–how come that hadn’t happened when the tree hit it?

There was a box of tissues on the dashboard, so I grabbed a handful and pressed on the driver’s wound. He was unconscious but groaning–something wasn’t right. I looked again and he had blocked his airway, his head slumped forward onto his chest.

Phoebe went round to the other front door of the car and together we lifted his head back just a fraction to give him an airway. He was breathing better now, and he still had a pulse, I could feel it under the tissue I was pressing against the cut in his temple. We could hear sirens approaching and the young bloke who’d been helping went off to guide the ambulance and accompanying fire tender to the accident site.

We left it to the experts to deal with the unconscious man and took our leave. By this time, despite my waterproof, I was soaked, so it was back to the house for a hot shower for both of us.

“Is it always like this with you?” asked my young companion.

“What gave you that idea?” I challenged.

“Just what Julie said a while back.”

“Which was?”

“When you go out with Mummy, expect anything to happen–because it will.”

“Based on what sort of evidence?” I said, and Phoebe nearly choked she laughed so hard.