by Rosie Harris
It was a job he had intended to do before Betty moved in with him but instead more and more unwanted items had been rehoused in the shed, until it had reached the point where he could barely get in there and his workbench was buried under the clutter.
Today, after they had finished their midday meal and cleared things up, Betty had retired to her room to have a sleep but he had felt too restless to have a snooze too, so he had decided to tackle the muddle in his shed.
He suddenly felt tired, and since there was no chance of lighting the bonfire because the sky had clouded over, threatening the possibility of rain, he decided to go indoors and make a cup of tea for himself and Betty.
He called out her name as he went into the kitchen and switched on the kettle. It was after four o’clock and if she was still asleep then it was time she was up, or else she wouldn’t be able to sleep when it came to bedtime, he thought.
The kettle boiled, he made the tea, but there was still no answering call from Betty. Surprised, he went upstairs to wake her. Her bedroom door was wide open and there was no sign of her. He went all round the house, looking everywhere, but she wasn’t there.
He knew she wasn’t out in the garden, so where on earth was she, he wondered.
He poured himself a cup of tea and sat down on one of the wooden kitchen chairs. It was not very comfortable but, because of the state he was in, covered with dust and grime, he knew he dare not sit in his favourite armchair.
He stirred his tea, wondering where Betty was. Although she was now almost back to full health, she was still a little absent-minded so he didn’t like her going out on her on, especially as she hadn’t mentioned it to him. In addition to getting lost, there was the added problem that she tired easily and found walking any distance hard work.
As rain began to patter on the window he finished his tea and stood up. Probably she had gone along the road to look at how the work was progressing on her old home. It was the one little walk which she felt capable of doing on her own and most days she made her way there. Now, if she had gone out without a coat she was going to get wet.
Peter went out into the hall and pulled on his own anorak. He would go and meet her, he decided, as he took down her raincoat from the peg.
It was raining quite hard by the time he reached the almost finished house and the workmen were packing up. They all knew Betty, but they shook their heads when Peter asked if she was sheltering somewhere there from the rain.
‘She was here earlier, about half an hour ago or perhaps a bit more,’ one of them said.
‘She’s gone for a ride,’ one of the others called out.
Peter’s heart thumped. Surely Tim hadn’t taken her out without letting him know, he thought startled. If it wasn’t Tim then who was it, he wondered.
Trying not to let the men see how worried he was, he asked, ‘Do you know what sort of car she went in?’
‘Car? She didn’t go in a car, mate, she went on that old bicycle that was in the garage.’
‘Bicycle?’ Peter looked blank. ‘What bicycle?’
‘The one that was at the very back of the garage, hidden behind all our bits and pieces. We’ve been clearing up in there today because we’ve almost finished the outside work here and the carpenters and decorators will need the garage to store all their equipment in.’
‘And you say there was a bicycle in the garage.’
‘There was, and she asked us to get it out for her, didn’t she, Sam?’
‘That’s right,’ Sam agreed. ‘She said it was hers. It was as old as the hills, should have been in a museum.’
‘It was one of those “sit up and beg” sorts,’ Jimmy said with a broad grin.
‘You mean she’s taken it home?’ Peter persisted.
‘She’s taken it away, mate. She said she was going for a ride on it. We warned her not to get caught speeding and not to take it on the motorway,’ Sam chuckled.
‘Which way did she go, she certainly hasn’t brought it home because I’ve been there all afternoon,’ Peter said, a hint of panic creeping in to his tone.
‘No, she didn’t wheel it towards your place, she went the other way, toward the hill,’ Sam confirmed. ‘She said she wanted to try it out there.’
‘Heavens above,’ Peter groaned. ‘It’s probably so old and rusty that it will fall to pieces if she gets on it.’ He pulled up the collar of his anorak and shivered. ‘I’d better go and see if I can find her. She’ll be wet through by now,’ he muttered, more to himself than to Sam and Jimmy.
‘Well the rain’s almost stopped so I wouldn’t worry about that,’ Jimmy said.
‘No, the rain has stopped but I think you are probably right about the bike,’ Sam agreed.
Peter wasn’t listening. He was thinking of the bicycle. Betty had ridden it as a young girl. She couldn’t possibly remember how to still ride, he thought worriedly as he hurried along the road in the direction the men had said. He knew all too well the hill they’d mentioned. Many years ago, he and Betty had ridden their bikes down it; gathering speed, their legs spread wide, refusing to put them back on to pedals until the very last minute, or even using them to help stop when they reached the main road at the bottom. In winter they had dragged their sled as close to the top of the hill as they could, and then they had come hurtling down. It had been dangerous then but nowadays, with so much more traffic, it was lethal because of the busy main road that ran along the bottom of the hill.
Betty was reliving the past so much these days that Peter was sure she was planning to ride down the hill like she’d done in the olden days. He broke into a run. He must get there before she started down the hill and reached the main road. He wasn’t sure that she would have the sense to stop in time.
As he started to climb up the steep hill he looked upwards to see if there was any sign of her, but there wasn’t. He breathed a sigh of relief. She walked so very slowly these days that she had had probably been breathless after pushing the bike to the top of the hill and had needed to take a rest. With any luck he’d reach her before she tried to ride down.
Even as the thought went through his head he saw a movement above him, and a sixth sense told him it was Betty. He tried to shout out a warning but she was too far away to hear him.
In a split second she was heading straight down the hill, screaming with fright as the bike gathered speed. As Peter watched in petrified horror, he noticed that she was wobbling dramatically. It looked as though her skirt had caught in the spokes of the back wheel. When she realized this, and tried to apply the brakes to slow down, it was apparent they had no effect at all. Peter wasn’t sure whether it was because her skirt was preventing the brakes from being effective or whether it was the brakes were useless because of their age.
Either way, he felt sick. Then he did the only thing he could do. He stepped directly into her path. It was all he could think of to try and stop her careering down onto the busy main road.
Her speed made it impossible for him to retain his balance as the bike, and Betty, impacted with him. They went down in a twisted mass of metal, arms and legs.
Peter felt a searing pain down his right side and at the same time he heard an ominous crack. For a moment, as they lay in a breathless heap, he didn’t know if it was one of his bones, or one of Betty’s, or part of the bike’s metal frame.
He lay where he was for a moment, trying to regain his thoughts. The rain had stopped and, although the sky was no longer so dark, he knew it must now be quite late in the afternoon.
Recovered from his pause, Peter tried to extricate himself and immediately he was once again aware of the searing pain in his right shoulder and arm, as well as the fact that he couldn’t move his arm. It wasn’t trapped in the bicycle frame, yet it felt as though there was a dead weight preventing him from lifting it. When he finally managed to free himself from the tangle of metal, his right arm hung useless, and even the smallest movement caused excruciating pain.
Betty was alternatively sobbing and
screaming, and he had no idea whether it was merely from fright or whether she was injured as well.
The sound of an approaching vehicle filled him with even greater dread. It sounded like a lorry. Surely it would see them and move its course, Peter thought. There was absolutely no way they could get out of its path.
To his surprise, and relief, the driver cut his engine and the lorry stopped. It was so close to them that another yard and they would have been under its wheels.
Then he heard voices, ones he recognized, and he realized that the workmen he’d been talking to earlier, who had found the bike and told him that Betty was planning to ride it, had come to look for them.
‘You all right, mate?’ Jimmy asked, coming over to where they lay.
‘I think I’ve broken my arm or my shoulder,’ Peter said. ‘The pain is sheer hell and I can’t seem to lift it.’
‘What about Betty?’
‘I don’t know,’ Peter told him. ‘She’s trapped by the bike. She was screaming her head off before but hasn’t made a sound for ages. I think she’s passed out; though whether it’s from shock or from some sort of injury, I don’t know.’
‘Yeah, we know she’s been screaming from time to time, we could hear her from Clover Crescent,’ Sam said. ‘That’s why we thought that perhaps we’d better come and see if everything was OK with you both.’
As the younger man, Jimmy, approached to see if he could help to disentangle them, Sam stopped him. ‘No, don’t touch them, you might do more harm than good,’ he warned. ‘I’ll phone for an ambulance,’ he said, taking his mobile out of his pocket and dialling.
It only took him a minute to give the directions of where they were.
‘The ambulance will be here as soon as possible, probably about ten minutes or so, depending on traffic conditions,’ he assured them when he’d finished.
‘Fair enough,’ Jimmy said. ‘Shall I get the tarpaulin out of the truck and put it over them to try and keep them warm until the ambulance gets here?’
‘Yes, that’s a thought, we could do that,’ Sam agreed. ‘I’ll help you. It’s reasonably clean and at least it will keep out the wind.’
Nineteen
Sally Bishop looked at her watch and frowned. It was later than she thought. She had been so engrossed in tidying her cupboards that she hadn’t noticed how quickly the afternoon was slipping by. There had been a short, sharp rain shower earlier on that had stopped now but it had left the sky clouded over.
She checked on the time again. She had promised to go round to Clover Crescent to see Betty Wilson, but she’d probably left it too late now to do so.
Still, a quick walk in the fresh air would do her good, she told herself. A ten-minute chat and she’d be home in time to prepare her evening meal and watch the six o’clock news.
She put a comb through her hair, pulled on her heavy warm coat, picked up her gloves, found her keys, and set off.
To her surprise Peter’s house was in darkness. When she went to ring the bell, she found the door was unlocked. That was strange, she thought. If they had gone out together then Peter would have been sure to lock the door; he was very careful over such matters.
She stood on the path wondering what to do. Surely they couldn’t both be asleep. Betty often took a nap after her lunch but, as far as she knew, Peter never did. She went round to the side of the house to see if Peter was out in the garden or in his shed, but there was no sign of him.
Sally went back to the house and again rang the bell and rapped on the door, then stepped inside and switched on the hall light. She was so familiar with their home that in no time she had checked that there really was no one at home.
She wondered if Tim Wilson had come round to take his mother and Peter somewhere, but he certainly wouldn’t leave the place unlocked. It felt like déjà vu and it was making Sally nervous.
She looked at her watch again. It was five o’clock so Tim Wilson’s estate agency office would still be open. She decided to walk to the high street and find out if he had taken them out, or if he knew where they were. If he wasn’t there then someone in the office might know his movements and be able to help the pair, she decided.
Tim Wilson was there, but he was as puzzled as Sally that neither his mother nor Peter were at home.
‘Are you quite sure,’ he pressed.
‘Quite sure,’ Sally Bishop said decisively. ‘If you don’t believe me then come back with me and look for yourself.’
‘OK I’ll do that. I’m about to leave for the night anyway and it will set both our minds at rest. We’ll go in my car and then I can run you home afterwards.’
Five minutes later Tim was agreeing with Sally that neither Betty nor Peter were at home.
‘Maybe they’ve both walked up to Mum’s old house to see how the work is getting on. The builders are due to finish tonight and the carpenters and decorators will be coming in next week to finish off the interior.’
Sam and Jimmy were packing up things into their van when Sally and Tim arrived.
‘Hi, governor!’ Sam greeted him. ‘We’re just putting the last of our stuff into the van. We’ve cleared all our clobber out of the garage and left everything spick and span for next week.’
‘How’s your mother, Mr Wilson?’ Jimmy asked.
‘I don’t know at the moment,’ Tim answered with a frown. ‘We’re looking for her, have you seen her?’
The two workmen exchanged glances. ‘You mean you don’t know that she’s had an accident and been taken to hospital?’ Sam said.
Tim frowned. ‘An accident; what sort of an accident?’
Again, the two men exchanged glances before speaking. Then Jimmy said, ‘It was on that old bike.’
‘Old bike? What are you talking about?’
‘We were clearing all our stuff out of the garage and she was by the gate watching us,’ Sam explained. ‘She saw the bike at the back of the garage and asked us to get it for her.’
‘It was old, must have been sixty years old or more,’ Jimmy interposed.
‘I know what they’re talking about,’ Sally Bishop said when she saw Tim was utterly bewildered by the conversation. ‘It’s been at the back of the garage for years. Betty wouldn’t get rid of it. I got rid my mine about thirty years ago, but she hung on to hers. She must have left it in the garage when she moved in with Peter after the fire,’ she added.
‘You mean you let her take it away,’ Tim said slowly.
‘Well, she asked us for it and it was hers so what else could we do,’ Sam said defensively.
Tim nodded understandingly. ‘Of course,’ he murmured. ‘So, what happened then? Did she take it back to Peter Brown’s house?’
The two men exchanged glances once again.
‘Well, no,’ Sam said. ‘She went off with it the other way. To the hill—’
‘What!’ Tim shouted. ‘Was she thinking of riding it?’
Both men nodded.
‘And that’s when she had the accident?’
‘She got to the hill it seems and began to ride it down,’ Jimmy told him. ‘Mr Brown came here looking for her and when he heard what had happened he went to try and stop her. She’d reached the hill before he could stop her and she was already on the bike and coming down the hill hell for leather. He knew he had to stop her before she reached the main road at the bottom so he stepped out in front of her.’
‘The bike bowled him over,’ Sam said, taking up the story. ‘The pair of them and the bike crashed to the ground. We went to look for them and saw what happened but we were too late to do anything. We found them in a heap almost at the bottom of the hill. Mr Brown seemed to be badly hurt—’
‘And what about my mother?’ Tim interrupted.
‘Not too sure. She seemed to have passed out by the time we got there.’
‘We phoned for an ambulance.’
‘So where is she now?’ Tim said, pulling at his stiff collar as if he was choking.
‘In hospital. That’s why
I asked how she was,’ Jimmy said.
‘Are you feeling all right, missus?’ Sam asked as he looked at Sally and noticed that the colour had drained from her face; she looked as though she was about to faint.
‘Yes, I’m quite all right, thank you,’ Sally murmured, but she clutched at Tim’s arm as though she was about to fall.
‘I had no idea about any of this,’ she told Tim in a choking voice. ‘It’s all my fault.’
‘How can it be your fault?’ he said sharply.
‘I promised to go round there about three o’clock for a cup of tea and I got so engrossed in what I was doing at home that I didn’t set out until well after four. If I had been on time she would probably never have left home, and never got hold of the bike, and none of this would have happened.’
‘Don’t blame yourself,’ Tim told her. ‘I don’t hold you responsible any more than I blame these two for letting her have the bike. It’s one of those unfortunate set of circumstances that have combined with very disastrous results.’
The workmen nodded. ‘Hope she’s alright,’ Jimmy added. ‘Lovely lady.’
‘Yes, we shouldn’t have let her have that old bone-shaker, I can see than now,’ Sam admitted.
‘Never mind about all that. Will one of you kindly see Mrs Bishop home and I’ll go straight to the hospital and find out what the news is.’
‘I can’t go home, I’ll come to the hospital with you. Please let me, Tim,’ she persisted when she saw he was about to refuse. ‘I’ll wait in the car but I won’t be able to rest until I know that they’re both going to be all right.’
It took Tim almost half an hour to ascertain that both his mother and Peter Brown had been admitted less than an hour ago, but he was not allowed to see either of them.
‘They are still being assessed,’ he was told. ‘Come back tomorrow, or phone later this evening and we might be able to give you some news then.’
‘The elderly lady is my mother,’ he said worriedly. ‘I understand that she was unconscious when she was brought in. Is she … has she regained consciousness?’