Chapter 33
I believe in following my heart and trusting my gut. They haven’t let me down yet, and my only regrets in life are from when I didn’t listen.
Extract from Joy’s journal
Tilly slammed her foot on the brake and was thrown forward, but it was too little too late. The blue car kept coming, crashing into the front of the campervan with a sickening crunch.
Then there was stillness. She sat back, feeling oddly calm.
She took a couple of deep breaths as she looked around and realised she wasn’t injured.
She glanced in the rear-view mirror; the lane behind was clear.
She put on her hazard lights and the handbrake, even though the van was wedged against the car and wouldn’t be going anywhere.
The lane was quiet, with just the thrum of the campervan’s engine still running.
Tilly switched it off and got out, going round the back of her van so she could reach the oncoming driver’s side.
Her heart pounded with each step. An elderly lady was behind the wheel.
She looked like Joy, with short silver hair, alabaster skin and round cheeks.
A pair of tortoiseshell glasses hung around her neck.
A wave of sadness washed over Tilly. She’d never had an elderly relative to worry about, only grandparents she hadn’t known and a lingering emptiness of not ever having experienced a loving family, except a taste of what could have been thanks to Joy, and now she was gone.
Tilly yanked the door open. The airbag had deployed and deflated, and the woman was staring straight ahead, muttering, ‘Oh God, oh God, what have I done?’
Up close, she looked to be in her eighties, although the speed she’d been going around a blind bend felt more like a boy racer.
She was sheet white, with a couple of burn patches on her face that Tilly assumed were from the impact of the crash.
Her eyelids sagged as if she was struggling to stay awake.
Tilly crouched down next to the driver’s seat. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.’ The woman’s eyes were wide and bloodshot as she looked up. A tear tracked down her cheek. ‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Tilly,’ she said gently. She took a deep breath as she tried to get a grip on the situation. ‘I’m going to phone the police and an ambulance and get some help.’
‘Oh God, what have I done?’ the woman repeated.
Tilly had never been involved in an accident before and whether it was the adrenaline or the need to look after a vulnerable woman who reminded her of Joy, she felt clear-headed and in control.
‘You’ve had an accident,’ Tilly said calmly. The woman was short of breath and blinking fast. ‘But you’re okay. We’re going to get help. I’m here with you.’ She took the woman’s hand, which was cool with raised veins and felt slight and clammy in her own. ‘What’s your name?’
‘I, er… I…’ The woman’s face pinched in concentration.
‘It’s okay, don’t worry about trying to remember.
I’m going to reach across and take a look in your bag.
’ With a shaky hand, Tilly plucked the black leather handbag off the passenger seat.
It felt wrong to rifle through it, but with the woman so obviously confused and in shock, it seemed necessary.
She found her driving licence. ‘You’re Jean, do you remember? ’ Tilly asked.
‘Jean,’ she said softly as tears welled again. ‘That’s right.’
‘Well, Jean, just breathe in and out and stay as still and as calm as you can while I get help.’
Tilly took out her phone and dialled 999, answering the questions as best she could when she didn’t know the road or any information about Jean beyond what was on her driving licence.
The emergency operator was a much-needed calming influence and talked her through everything, although Tilly’s panic rose when Jean seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness.
‘Help is on its way’ was the greatest sentence she’d ever heard.
With the emergency operator still on the line, Tilly focused her attention back on Jean, trying to keep her awake and talking.
‘Is there anyone I can phone for you?’
‘My son, but he’ll be angry.’ Jean shook her head and moaned.
‘Hey, hey, it’s okay. Try to stay still until you get checked out by the paramedics.’ Tilly tentatively put her hand on the woman’s arm. She was trembling. ‘I’m sure your son would rather know you’ve had an accident and are okay than to find out from the police.’
‘I’ve had an accident?’ she said with disbelief. Her breathing fluttered short and sharp.
‘Yes, you have, but you’re going to be fine.’ Tilly needed to convince herself as much as she did Jean.
The road was so quiet that not another car had approached in either direction the whole time they’d been here.
How unlucky had it been for Jean to have met Tilly when she had.
But perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, if there was an underlying cause to have made her drive so erratically.
She could have ended up alone in a ditch and not have been discovered for hours.
The sound of sirens was the second best thing Tilly heard that day. And as the paramedics then the police arrived and took over, Tilly crumpled with relief that Jean was in safe hands.
Tilly relayed the whole incident to the police, what had happened, what she’d seen and what Jean had said. A police car was parked in the lane, its lights flashing, while the paramedics transferred Jean from her car into the back of the ambulance.
The police finished taking a statement from Tilly and promised to call Jean’s son. Tilly hated the thought of Jean ending up in hospital alone, and she did wonder if her son would be cross, perhaps because he’d thought something like this could happen and had warned her not to drive.
‘Do you have someone you can call?’ the police officer asked Tilly. ‘A partner? Or a relative?’
‘No, no one like that.’
‘A friend?’
Tilly nodded as tears stung her eyes. The truth hit her hard; she was pretty alone in the world, but there was one person she wanted. ‘Yes, but he’s hours away.’
‘Is there someone closer?’
She nodded again and clicked into the contacts on her phone. ‘Yeah, hopefully he’s not far from here. I’ll see if he can pick me up.’
With the police arranging for her campervan to be towed to a garage, she had no option but to call Stefan – purely for practical reasons, she told herself.
He should still be close by while Logan was on Mull and had no easy way of getting here, even if he was willing to forgive her for the way she’d left.
The truth was, Logan was her emergency contact, not because he was her friend, but because he was the one person she’d always trusted and relied on. He was the only person who’d ever made her feel safe. And loved.
And yet it was her ex-boyfriend who came to pick her up, who ushered her into the passenger seat of his van and drove them the hour and forty-five minutes back to her house in Newcastle-upon-Tyne.
With each mile, she got the distinct sense of getting further away from Mull, the place she wanted to be more than anywhere, with the person who meant the most.