Frank periodically checked the internet on his phone to see if there were any updates, but there was nothing.
“I’m worried,” said Stan. “If everything was okay, they’d have surely said something by now?”
“I’m not sure there’s too much we can do here,” Frank replied, sighing. “Do we just head back home and see if there’s any more information in the morning?”
Stan reflected for a few moments before answering. “I think you’re right,” he said. “We’ve been sat here for most of the day and we don’t know anything. We could very well sit here all night and still not know anything. Perhaps we should leave our details with one of the nurses, and, if possible, pass our details over to one of their family, also.”
Frank looked up and something caught his attention.
“Is that not Dave’s brother Brian over there? The one who was helping him in the pits?” he asked.
Stan stared as much as he thought he could without appearing too obvious. “Yes! Yes, I think it is,” he agreed. “Do you think we ought to go over and ask him?”
Frank stood and walked slowly towards the counter where the man he suspected was Brian was. He waited for a moment for a nurse to leave.
“Excuse me, I’m very sorry to bother you, but are you Dave’s brother?”
Dave’s brother nodded.
“Right, I’m Frank,” Frank said. “My friend Stan and I have become friends with Dave and Monty. We don’t live on the Island, and need to return home, and we wondered if you’d be kind enough to perhaps give us a phone and let us know how they are?”
Brian looked at Frank with suspicion for a moment, until there was a flicker of recollection. “You’re the guys who helped them with the engine,” he said. “The taxi owners?”
“Yes, that’s us,” said Frank. “We didn’t know what else to do, so we’ve been waiting to see if anybody could give us any information. If you could call us, we’d be exceptionally grateful.”
Brian took the piece of paper with the phone number that Frank handed him. “I’d be happy to, but I don’t think we’ll know anything today. I don’t know anything about the other riders, mind you, but Dave is in a bad way.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Frank, heart sinking. “We’re really very fond of Dave and Monty. If you have the opportunity, will you tell them that we’re thinking of them and praying for a speedy recovery?”
“Of course,” said Brian. “If you don’t mind, I really need to get back to the family.”
“Cheers,” said Frank.
The helicopter journey earlier in the day had been full of enthusiasm and hope, but as Stan and Frank took to the air at Ronaldsway Airport for the journey home, there was a sense of despair.
The sun fell over the pretty coastal town of Peel in the West of the Island, cloaking it in a soft, golden glow, but Frank and Stan couldn’t appreciate the beauty of it just now.
“This isn’t how I wanted to leave the Island,” said Stan. “I’d pictured us sharing a glass of champagne on the return trip, to toast Dave and Monty getting their hundred-and-five-mile-per-hour lap.”
“They didn’t finish the race,” said Frank. “But at least they got the lap speed they were looking for — and then some. I hope Brian has been able to tell them that they got a-hundred-and-seven miles per hour on that last of theirs.”
At work the next morning, Stella sent them home early. They didn’t argue with her.
There was nothing on the news and nobody had phoned, and the lack of information was gnawing at them. They sat in Stan’s kitchen and watched the footage they’d recorded on their phones with a great, but sad, fondness.
“Who’s that?” asked Stan, as Frank’s phone began to vibrate — indicating an incoming call. “It’s a private number,” he said, after seeing the number come up on Frank’s screen.
Frank was both desperate to answer but reluctant to answer, knowing what might be at the other end.
“Hello,” he said. His throat had constricted, his voice hoarse, and he could barely manage the word.
Stan turned away as he didn’t want to misinterpret any of Frank’s facial expressions. He listened intently.
“Yes, this is Frank,” he said. “Brian, hi, how are you? Good news I—?”
There followed from Frank, interspersed with periods of silence, a series of grunts and short, one-word responses, which revealed to Stan nothing of discernible value.
“Okay, I see,” said Frank, with an intonation which suggested that the conversation was coming to an end.
The suspense was driving Stan mad, and he turned back around to look at Frank, anxious to glean anything he possibly could.
“Brian, it can’t have been easy, and Stan and I both want to thank you for phoning, and we both send our very best wishes to you all,” Frank concluded, ending the call.
Chris Kinley cleared his throat and brought the audience to order.
“I’d like to thank you all for attending this evening, on what is relatively short notice. As you all know, we’re here because of the horrendous accident in the second sidecar race. We’re honoured to be invited to Government House, in the presence of the Lieutenant Governor of The Isle of Man, and I’d like to bring his excellency onto the stage in a few moments…
“If we can take away anything from an awful incident, it’s the spirit of true sportsmanship and selfless action embodied in our beloved sport, as evidenced and demonstrated so beautifully by David Quirk and Shaun ‘Monty’ Montgomery in this last race. The Spirit of TT Award is given to recognise those heroes who have demonstrated a contribution to the TT or a moment of excellence. This is ordinarily awarded on Senior Race Day, but in view of the moment of excellence we saw from outfit Number Forty-Two, the sponsors and organisation committee wanted to postpone the award until such time as it could be properly presented. Which brings us, of course, to today.”
A pause was given, so that the crowd could show their appreciation.
“What I’d like to do now,” Chris continued, “Is invite Harry McMullan onto the stage, if I may.”
The crowd gave Harry a rapturous round of applause as he made his way onto the stage with the assistance of a pair of crutches. For a man who was usually brash, bordering on arrogant, he was humble now, with his head bowed.
“The Spirit of TT award has often passed me by, if I’m being honest with myself,” McMullan said, speaking into the mic. “I mean, I know what it is, but previously I’ve not paid it any attention. Am I proud of that? No I’m not. I’m here to tell you, that no I’m not…
“Since the accident, where I’ve had first-class treatment at the hospital, I’ve had a lot of time to think about the people that give so much to make this event so special. Dave Quirk and Shaun Montgomery should be on this stage with me right now. They did something that, I’m embarrassed to admit, I’m not sure I could have or would have done myself…
“Those who know me will know I can be a right arsehole at times, and I’m dejected that I didn’t like Dave or take the time to get to know him. With me being… well, the way that I am… let’s just say there was no love lost between us. However, Dave didn’t let the feelings he must have had for me get in the way of what he did. And bless him for it…
“We were dropping oil, Tony and me, and travelling probably a-hundred-and-forty miles per hour, the both of us, when Dave tried to warn us. He didn’t give up, neither, and risked his own life to pull alongside and wave us down. And because of that, when our engine did seize, we were slowing and doing maybe half speed…
“The simple fact of the matter is, if it wasn’t for Dave, I wouldn’t be breathing right now, and neither would my teammate Tony Dearie. There’s not much more I can say, other than this whole experience has taught me a great deal. It’s made me a humbler man, I can tell you that for certain, and when I heard this award was going to Dave and Monty, I genuinely couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than them and that’s the honest truth…
“
They have my eternal gratitude and respect.”
A standing ovation was given, as Harry McMullan hobbled down from the stage and made his way back to take his place among the other riders.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Chris, back at the mic. “I’d like to bring his Excellency, the Lieutenant Governor, on stage to present this year’s award. And to accept the award on behalf of Dave and Shaun, we’re pleased to have Shaun’s wife, Tracey, and Dave’s brother, Brian, with us.”
As the Governor took to the stage, a picture of Dave and Monty appeared, projected up on the screen behind him.
“Bloody hell,” said Stan, taking a handkerchief from his tuxedo pocket. “I was doing well, right up until they showed that picture.”
“They are a bit difficult on the eyes, aren’t they?” said Frank.
Stan laughed, and wiped away the snot bubble that came out his nose.
Frank put a reassuring hand on his knee. “That was a lovely speech by Harry McMullan, though.”
“It was indeed,” Stan said, in perfect agreement.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” said the Governor. “I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting them, but, from what I’ve heard this evening, they sound like delightful lads. It gives me enormous pleasure, then, to present the Spirit of TT Award to David Quirk and Shaun Montgomery.”
Monty’s wife, Tracey, and Dave’s brother, Brian, graciously accepted the award, said a few words, and were on their way again.
“Oh, here I go again,” said Stan, taking up his handkerchief once again, to wipe the tears that were now flowing as freely as... well, as tears that flow quite freely.
Chris Kinley took to the stage once more, joining in the applause the audience bestowed upon the award recipients as he did so. “Ladies and gentlemen, two very deserving winners, I’m sure you’ll agree.”
Giving the lighting technician a nod, the image of Dave and Monty then disappeared.
“And now, by virtue of modern technology, along with permission from the doctors, I’m very pleased to give you, once again… David Quirk and Shaun ‘Monty’ Montgomery! With sound!”
The screen kicked into life a second time, illuminating the stage. There Dave and Monty were, appearing from their hospital ward with their legs and arms in plaster cast like a scene from a Benny Hill sketch.
“Hello? Is this on?” Dave said, tapping the microphone he’d been given, as if tapping it could suddenly bring it to life if it were not.
“Right. On behalf of Monty and myself, I’d like to say I certainly hope we’ve passed the audition, and…”
Dave waited for the laughs to come, but the audio was only one-way at the moment.
He tapped the mic again, waggling it around to make sure it was working properly.
“But seriously. I’d like to thank you for this award. It does mean a lot. I’ve been listening to the award ceremony, and I’d like to say to Harry McMullan to not feel too bad about not liking me, because me and Monty, quite honestly, thought you were a complete dickhead!”
Dave mugged for the camera, waiting again for the laughs. He tapped the microphone yet again, shrugged his shoulders, and carried on.
“Like you, however, we forgive and forget, and we actually like the guy now. In fact, he’s bloody brilliant. He’s spent hours making us these wheelchairs, which are attached together so we can race around the hospital ward like a sidecar rig! We’ve yet to try it out, but I’m sure the hospital staff will have loads of fun chasing after us, and a splendid time is guaranteed for all…
“Now’s also probably a good time, Harry, to admit that it was us who put the half-pound of salmon in your leathers when you weren’t looking, but that’s all in the past so no harm done! ...
“We’d like to thank you all for this award, and, with your support, we’re looking forward to coming back all mended, and better and stronger, next year. Thank you and God bless!”
“I bloody love them two,” said Stan, waving at the screen as if they could actually see him. “Oh, and what did they say when you told them, by the way?”
“About what?” asked Frank.
“About Henk offering them a sidecar for next year, one that can really compete?”
“You know Dave,” said Frank. “He was too busy looking at the dirty magazines his brother had brought him up.”
“He must have said something?” said Stan.
“He did,” said Frank. “As his arms were in a cast he asked me to turn the pages!”
“It could’ve been worse,” Stan reminded him. “What with his hands not free and him looking at that sort of magazine and all…”
“Say no more,” said Frank. “Stan, we’ll be back next year, with Dave and Monty and our charity emblazoned all over the new-and-improved Outfit Number Forty-Two, and you never know, next year we might see him get to a-hundred-and-ten miles per hour.”
“I’ll drink to that, Frank,” said Stan, raising his champagne flute. “And here’s to good health!”
“Good health!” said Frank. “And good friends!”
The End
I hope you’ve enjoyed this book! If you have, make sure to check out the other volumes in the series (so far!):
www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B07H9WZ3MC
www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B07PZXVZ2F
And more...
The Lonely Heart Attack Club series!
www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B073WXHGCV
www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B075WCX7BD
And The Seaside Detective Agency, and The Flip of a Coin.
www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B07DJYJWLD
www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00RO4PX3E
You may also wish to check out my other books aimed at a younger audience…
www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B01HWTNHAG
www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B01MDKS0KM
www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/1076693202
And coming soon…
Deputy Gabe Rashford
All jolly good fun!
And also…
For the very adventurous among you, you may wish to give my hardworking editor’s most peculiar book a butcher’s. Lavishly illustrated by award-winning artist Tony Millionaire of Maakies and Sock Monkey fame.
Recommended for readers age 14 and up.
www.amazon.co.uk/Get-Some-Sleep-Dave-Scott/dp/1976262496
Frank 'n' Stan's bucket list - #1: TT Races - Poignant, uplifting and exceptionally funny! Page 22