Faith (2 page)

“It’s time we were making tracks. Looks like rain.” I reach for my jacket.

“No, it’s fine. No rush.” Ed makes no attempt to move.

“Please. I really would prefer to get off. It was cold enough on the way up here, I don’t fancy getting soaked on the way back.”

“That’s part of biking, what makes it so fucking wonderful. Don’t you think so, Caro?”

Caro?
Ewan’s eyebrows lift at this too. He says nothing though.

Caroline’s smile is broad. “Oh, yes, it’s all about connecting with the elements, just you and your machine.”

Easy for her to say. Her machine doubtless has a roof on. And a heater. I like my neighbour, I really do, but this fascination with biking is surely bordering on the ridiculous.

“I know, why don’t we swap?” Caroline is grinning at me, her face alight with anticipation.

“What? Swap what?” I frown from her to Ed, who is also doing his Cheshire cat impersonation.

“Yeah, Great idea. Faith, let Caro have your crash helmet and leathers.”

“My leathers? But I’m only wearing shorts underneath.”

“You’ll be decent enough. You can go back in the car with Ewan, and Caro can ride pillion with me. You’d like a demonstration of how that thing goes, wouldn’t you?”

Ed’s final remark is directed at Caroline, who is looking hopefully at Ewan.

“Will that be okay with you? I mean, if you don’t want me to…”

He smiles, perhaps the first smile I’ve seen from him all afternoon. “If it’ll help get it out of your system, sweetheart. And if Faith has no objections, obviously.”

Actually, I don’t. Ewan might intimidate me, although I can’t really say why—he’s hardly said a word directly to me, but the prospect of the journey back in his nice warm car is infinitely more appealing than being perched on the back of Ed’s Yamaha. I shrug and hand Caroline my jacket.

“Shall we go inside and I’ll peel off my leathers in the loo. The helmet is with the bike.”

We leave Hawes together, in a sort of convoy. Ed and Caroline are on the Yamaha in front, Ewan and I in his sporty Nissan. Despite his apparent lack of interest in the conversation at the café, it’s clear Ewan likes his engines too. He simply prefers them attached to four wheels.

We leave the small town behind and Caroline waves to us as Ed accelerates away. Ewan seems to have no interest in keeping up with them, even though the Nissan can show a fair turn of speed too. On those parts where the road straightens, we catch fleeting glimpses of the bike in front, further ahead each time.

Ewan makes no serious attempt to engage me in conversation apart from a perfunctory “Are you warm enough?” I mumble that I am and sink into the soft leather of my seat.

“Music?” Ewan gestures at the CD player. I shake my head, hoping he’ll leave it at that. He’s only giving me a lift, for heaven’s sake, but I’m acutely aware of his presence alongside me. His voice is low, melodic almost, his fingers long and capable on the steering wheel. My imagination is starting to hit overdrive as I envision what he might be able to do with those hands.

I pull myself up sharp—this is ridiculous. And quite wrong. Ed might behave like a randy tomcat, but I know better. No good comes of daydreaming about sexy doms, especially unattainable ones. Kinky sex is not my thing.

My mental state under some semblance of control, I turn my head to watch the landscape of the Yorkshire Dales roll past the window, noticing a few spots of rain against the glass. I was right about the weather.

The road opens out again, we’re on a long, straight section, and it’s a little wider too in this stretch. The bike is visible, maybe a half mile or so ahead. Ed is taking advantage of the lack of bends in the road to open the throttle right up. The high-pitched roar of the engine reaches us even at this distance. There’s a muffled “Shit! He’s a fucking maniac,” from alongside me. I can’t help but agree and I’m glad I’m not the one on the back of the bike. Maybe if I were, he’d not be showing off so much though.

There’s a surge of power under me as Ewan hits the accelerator and the Nissan leaps forward. He’s trying to close the distance, maybe even get in front and if not, slow Ed down, at least retrieve his girlfriend from the danger zone. The car eats up the long straight road and Ewan slows a little for the curve at the end. The bike is in sight once more, approaching another bend. Ed is leaning it over, almost parallel with the ground.

Ewan swears again, this time something truly obscene, and stamps hard on the accelerator.

The Yamaha reaches the bend, at the extreme of our line of sight. I’m not sure what I see next, but it doesn’t look right. The rear wheel lifts, then bounces back down. The bike is disappearing around the bend in the road. It looks to be sliding across the tarmac now, but not before we see a figure flung from it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Ewan hits the brakes hard as we careen towards the bend too, the tyres screeching against the asphalt. I smell burning rubber as the powerful car slithers to a halt, sideways across the road. The bike is nowhere to be seen.

Ewan flings open the driver’s door and leaps out. He runs full pelt across the road to the grassy verge at the edge. I’m still in the car, dazed, wondering what the hell just happened. Clumsy, my fingers numb, I fumble with the door handle and drag myself out. I can see Ewan crouching in the longish grass at the roadside, leaning over something. Someone.

Oh, God. Oh, God, where’s Ed?

I stumble across the road to stand behind Ewan, desperately, selfishly hoping that the body in the hedgerow is not my husband. I can’t see the casualty properly, but I recognise my leathers and heave a sigh of relief, followed by a surge of guilt.

“How is she? Is she okay?”

Ewan doesn’t answer me; he’s too busy dragging his phone from his pocket. He hits the keys and within seconds is connected to the emergency services.

“Ambulance, please. RTA, motorcycle. One, possibly two casualties.” A pause, then, “No, no other vehicles involved.” Another pause. “B6255, about ten miles south of Hawes. Hurry. Please.”

He turns to me. “Where’s your husband?”

“I, I don’t know. I…”

“Stay with Carrie, I’ll go look around.” He skirts past me to jog along the road looking in both directions for some sign of the bike. He halts, then scrambles off the road and disappears down a grass bank. My impulse is to run after him, I need to see Ed, need to know he’s okay. But a breathy whimper behind me reminds me of my immediate responsibilities and I turn to look properly at Caroline for the first time.

My heart sinks. The unnatural angle of her legs is all the evidence I need of multiple fractures. Her head is still encased in my crash helmet and I know better than to attempt to remove it. Her breathing is laboured, her eyes barely open. I kneel beside her, desperate in my helplessness. By instinct I reach for her hand. I pull off the glove, dismayed at how cold her fingers are.

“Hold on, help is on the way. You’ll be fine. Just hold on. We’re here, and an ambulance is coming.” I mutter the platitudes, all the while knowing we’re well off the beaten track. An ambulance is indeed on the way but it might be twenty minutes or more before we hear the wail of sirens.

“I’m sorry.” Caroline’s lips move, but I can hardly make out her words.

I take her hand, lean in close. “Shh, don’t try to talk. Save your strength. You’re going to be fine.”
I hope. Oh, God, I hope.

“I didn’t mean… I never wanted to hurt you.”

“It’s okay, I’m fine. You haven’t hurt me.”

“Your h…” Her eyelids droop, as though it’s all really too much effort.

“I’ll get a new helmet. It’s all fine. Really.”

Her words make no sense, just delirious ramblings, more ominous almost than the twisted limbs and blood trickling from her nose. I squeeze her hand again as I survey the scene, seeking out Ewan. When I glance back at her, Caroline is drifting in and out of consciousness. Her attempts to talk to me are over.

I twist my neck, straining to see something, anything of my husband. I call out to Ewan. “How is he? Have you found him?”

No reply. I stand, just as another car rounds the bend, narrowly avoiding Ewan’s abandoned Nissan. The second car stops; a middle-aged couple get out.

“Are you alright, love? Has there been an accident?” The man is already on his way over to me. “Mary, pass me my bag.”

Moments later the couple are bending over Caroline, the man’s fingers testing for pulses, heartbeat, breathing. He seems to know what he’s about, and my confidence soars when the bag he called for yields a stethoscope. Then a syringe. A doctor. We have a doctor on the scene now. It’s going to be alright.

I leave Caroline in their care and stagger across to where I saw Ewan leap into the ditch. As I get closer I see the flattened grass where the bike has slithered off the road. Thank God, at least Ed had a softer landing. Perhaps…

Ewan comes into view, scrambling back up onto the road. He doesn’t see me at first. He stands, leans forward, his hands on his knees as he steadies himself. Only then does he straighten and spot me. His expression tells me all I need to know. The awful reality of what has happened. Even so, I ask, hoping I’m wrong, that I’ve somehow misinterpreted that bleak expression.

“Ed? Is he… I need to see if he’s okay.”

Ewan shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

I still don’t take it in. I try to step around him, past him to reach my husband. Ewan’s arm is around my waist, preventing me from hurling myself down the ditch.

“It’s too late. He’s gone. I’m sorry.”

“Gone? No, I don’t understand. He just came off the bike. He’s always doing it. He’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry, Faith.”

I start to struggle, wriggling in his arms, desperate to be free. “Let go of me. I need to see him. Ed will need me.” I’m punching Ewan’s chest, as though pounding him for the dreadful news he’s brought me. He makes no attempt to stop the blows, absorbing them until at last I give in, exhausted.

“You should see him, I know that. Come on.” He releases me, but holds out his hand. I take it, allow him to guide me off the road and down the short bank, past the tangled, bent wreck of the Yamaha to where Ed’s body is lying a few feet beyond. His neck is 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.

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, measuring the skid marks on the road, questioning me and Ewan, the only witnesses. They seem at first to be of the view that Ed and Ewan were racing, but I strenuously deny that. I expect Ewan does too. Nothing could be further from the truth. Ewan tried to catch up with the bike, but only after he realised how recklessly Ed was riding the Yamaha. I suppose between us we manage to convince the police, and they drop that line of questioning.