The Story of Us (47 page)

This sudden reluctance to leave struck me unexpectedly with its intensity. It wasn't as though I didn't want to go away to university. Of course I did. I'd certainly worked hard enough to achieve the grades I needed to get on my journalism course. It was just that it finally seemed that tonight it was hitting home for the first time that this was really the end of a very important chapter in my life.

And just for the moment I couldn't really focus on the new beginnings, because all I could think of was leaving behind my boyfriend and my two closest friends. Ridiculously, I felt my eyes begin to water, and I hastily looked away, preferring the dazzling glare of the rays of the dwindling sun, than the reaction from around the table if they knew I'd been crying.

‘You OK?' asked Jimmy softly, leaning forward so only I could hear his words.

Matt was placing the drinks order, so it was safe to quietly reply.

‘Oh, you know, just feeling a little emotional, I guess. Changes coming, saying goodbye to everyone, stuff like that …' I trailed off, expecting some sort of ridicule, but instead was surprised when his hand reached across the table, encircled my fingers which were fiddling restlessly with the cutlery, and encased them in his grasp.

His grip felt oddly different; not the familiar clasp I had known since nursery school. Perhaps it was just the rough texture of the skin from his summer gardening, or was it more in the way my hand felt so small, tightly encompassed in his own?

I felt, rather than saw, Matt's slow awareness of Jimmy's action, but rather than a hurried retreat, Jimmy gave my hand one last squeeze and took his time before withdrawing his own. In an instinctive response, Matt drew his body closer towards mine, reclaiming both my attention and his territory and it was only after a moment or two that I became aware that when taking back his hand, Jimmy had somehow transferred the lucky penny he had picked up outside the restaurant from his hand to mine.

I held the coin tightly in my palm, imbuing the small copper disc with more significance than it perhaps deserved. It was typical of Jimmy to offer to share even the possibility of good fortune with me. We had, after all, shared so much for so many years. He was more like my brother than my friend: in fact, when I thought about it, his whole family were closer to me than many of my own relatives.

Jimmy's mother and mine had been very good friends long before Jimmy and I were even born, and when my mum had died so suddenly when I was only a toddler, Jimmy's family had reached out and somehow drawn both Dad and me into their lives and their hearts. I realised with a shock that my dad wasn't the only family I'd be leaving behind when I went away, it was going to be almost as tough saying goodbye to Jimmy's parents and his younger brother too.

When the two bottles of wine Matt had ordered were delivered to the table, everyone took a glass to raise a toast.

‘To going away …'

‘To not dropping out …!'

‘To our new lives …'

‘… and old friends …'

The last was echoed by each person around the table, as glasses clinked together, catching a brilliant prism of evening sunlight.

As the others sat joking and bantering light-heartedly, I took a second to look around the table, trying to take a mental snapshot of the moment. I knew we were all destined to make new friends at our various colleges and universities, but just now it was hard to believe that the new bonds we would forge could ever be as strong as those that threaded between the seven of us around the table.

As my eye fell on each individual friend, a memory or emotion would erupt in response. So many, it was almost impossible to separate them, but each recollection was another brick in the wall of our friendship, which I had to believe would remain solid no matter where we all ended up.

When I looked at Sarah, I couldn't help but repress a smile. In a strange way I already felt jealous of the new friends she would be making on her art course. Crazy, loyal, funny and incredibly caring, Sarah's friendship was one of my most treasured possessions. Whoever they were, these new friends didn't know how lucky they were.

And then there was Jimmy. I'd spent so much of the summer stressing over how it would feel to be apart from Matt, that whenever the thought of also saying goodbye to Jimmy had intruded, I'd hastily stuffed it away to the back of my mind. I knew it sounded strange, but the thought of not seeing my old friend on a regular basis was just so huge, so hard to absorb, that I couldn't even allow myself the time to contemplate it.

I realised with some disappointment that I wasn't nearly as ready as I should be to let go of any of them.

As we waited for our meals to arrive, I glanced occasionally through the window beside me and up the road to the church. The sun was just beginning its leisurely descent and the sky was bathed in diluted shades of red and gold, turning the usually drab high street into a magical abstract of colours. I noticed there were few pedestrians, but the lines of parked cars flanking both sides of the road meant that the pubs and restaurants were all doing good business that evening. From somewhere in the distance the distinctive wail of a siren could just be heard.

‘Rachel, are you listening?'

With a start I drew my attention away from the scene outside and realised that Jimmy had been speaking.

‘Sorry, I was miles away … what were you saying?'

His eyes flickered for a second towards Matt, who was chatting to Cathy at that moment on his other side. Jimmy didn't look comfortable having to repeat whatever it was I had just missed.

‘I was asking if you weren't too busy tomorrow afternoon, if you'd be able to come round to my house?'

The oddly hesitant request wasn't like him at all and I found myself momentarily confused, both by his tone and the formality of the invitation. Jimmy and I usually just pitched up at each other's front doors without asking; no invites necessary.

‘Sure, I can do that. I was intending to come round to see your mum and dad again before I left, anyway.'

‘Actually, they won't be home tomorrow.' Again, that oddly uncertain tone. ‘No one will, just me. I … er … I just wanted to have a quiet word with you. Is that OK?'

Was it the red glow from the sun, or was he actually blushing?

He seemed anxious to elicit my response before Matt turned back, so I quickly reassured him. ‘Yes, that's fine. I'll see you around two o'clock?'

He nodded then and sighed, as though some dreaded task had been accomplished, which only served to heighten my curiosity further. I guessed I would have to wait until the next day to find out what was on his mind.

The waiters had just arrived with the laden plates and begun to set them in front of us. Straightening up in his seat, Matt removed his right arm from where it had been resting around my waist, pausing to plant a firm kiss unexpectedly on my lips before pulling back.

‘Pleeeease … people are trying to eat round here!' groaned Sarah, pretending repulsion.

I grinned back at Matt and held my face very still while he tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. It was just a chance inconsequential action, but later I would wonder what might have happened to us all if he hadn't been leaning so closely towards me and seen the car.

‘What the hell …!' he cried.

I spun around to follow his gaze, mouth dropping in amazement as I saw a small red car, with all four wheels off the tarmac, catapult into view over the crest of the hill. Moments later a second car appeared, driving almost as fast and only slightly less recklessly; its flashing blue lights and discordant siren shattering the peace of the summer evening. In horror I saw a small van emerge from a side street and have to stand on its brakes to avoid losing the best part of its bonnet as the red car hurtled past with inches to spare. The car collided with grazing impact against the side of several parked vehicles, enshrouding the pursuing police car in a cloud of red hot sparks.

It was the shrieking scream of rubber from the van's brakes which alerted the attention of the rest of the group but Matt was way ahead of us all in assessing the oncoming danger. The red car was still comparatively high up on the hill, but at the speed it was travelling, that distance was being swallowed up with each passing second. When the police car began to narrow the gap between the vehicles, the red car veered crazily across the road, its driver clearly struggling to keep it from ploughing into the line of parked cars. Matt shot to his feet.

‘He's lost it! He's out of control. That car's going to crash! Get away from the window! NOW!'

For the first time we all seemed to notice the vulnerability of our position, seated beside the large window at the front of the restaurant. Separated from the road by only the narrowest of low pavements and sited on the corner of a very tight bend at the foot of the hill, the inevitability of the danger suddenly seemed glaringly obvious.

I felt Matt's tight grip on my shoulder as he got to his feet, screaming out his warning. The panic became infectious as people around us also began to shout. I noticed distractedly the waiter dropped two of our plates of food on the floor before retreating hastily away from our table.

Well, that's made a horrible mess
, I found myself thinking stupidly.

It wasn't as though I couldn't see what was happening; or that I hadn't fully understood my boyfriend's cry of warning. It was just that everything had suddenly and strangely slipped into slow-motion. There seemed to be no immediate rush; there was plenty of time to get away from the table. No need to have dropped two perfectly good dinners in the process.

Around me was a blur of movement. I saw Jimmy and Sarah get out of their seats and was aware of them running over to where Phil was standing, screaming out for the rest of us to move. Matt's hand remained embedded in the hollow of my shoulder as I felt him half drag me from my chair. With his other hand I saw him begin to propel Cathy, who was standing beside him, away from the table.

The chaotic scramble of flung-back chairs and knocked-over wine glasses could only have taken a second or two, but in that time I did something really dumb: I turned to look back through the window at the approaching car. Still coming way too fast, the vehicle, its engine roaring like a banshee, erratically straddled the centre line of the road, heading straight towards the bend – and the front of the restaurant – with no sign of slowing down.

And that stupid moment, when I stopped to check the car's approach, was when Matt lost his grip on my shoulder. When I turned my horrified face back from the window, I saw that he and Cathy were already some distance away. I stumbled forwards to follow them, but somehow when leaving, Matt's chair had been knocked over and was now wedged firmly against the pillar beside me. My exit was blocked.

Frantically I pushed at the fallen wooden obstacle, succeeding only in wedging it further between the edge of the table and the pillar.

‘Rachel!' screamed Sarah at the top of her lungs. ‘Get out of the way!'

Gasping in terror, I knew that from where they stood they must be able to see the car heading straight towards the window, beside which I was now trapped. I pushed and kicked at the chair with every ounce of strength, fear and adrenalin coursing through me, until the sounds of the restaurant diminished and all I could hear was the roar of the blood in my ears.

In desperation I looked up to Matt, and saw him begin to move back towards me and then, unbelievably, Cathy grabbed his arm and held him back.

‘No, Matt, no! There's no time! You'll be killed.'

I heard
that
all right, and crazily part of my brain, the part that wasn't busy trying not to let the rest of me get killed, even had time to absorb what I'd just seen Cathy do. If she thought I was going to let that pass, she was very much mistaken.

But then another noise screeched out from the street behind me, as finally, for the first time, the speeding car began to apply the brakes. Still thrusting uselessly at the fallen chair I glanced behind me for the last time. Yes, the car was braking, but it was much too late.

The sight of the speeding vehicle was growing ever larger in the window, so close now that I could make out the frightened face of the young driver, his eyes wide in terror as the inevitable approached.

I never saw him coming. He must have moved at incredible speed to get to me. One moment I was trapped in this tiny space between the fallen chair and the window, and the next two strong arms had appeared from across the table and fastened onto my own like a vice.

How he found the strength I never knew, but Jimmy literally hauled me out from where I was trapped and over the top of the table. I caught the look on his face as he dragged me across the clothed surface, mindless of the scattering bottles and glasses as I ploughed through them. His eyes were filled with indescribable fear and the tendons of his neck stood out like cables with the effort he was using to pull me towards him.

I grabbed onto him, trying to help, my feet scrabbling frantically over the cloth to propel me forward. Then from behind us I heard an ominously loud thump as the car left the road and mounted the pavement.

Jimmy threw me. That's the only way to describe what he did. One minute I was half across the table and the next I was lifted up, launched and thrown like a rag doll, slithering down to the floor some feet beyond the head of the table. But that act of impossible strength and bravery had taken up the last precious milliseconds between the car leaving the road and crashing into the restaurant.

Jimmy was still standing directly in the path of danger when the window exploded behind him.

The first thing I felt was the heat. Something heavy was over my legs, trapping them under a weight of pain that burned like fire. And there seemed to be water everywhere, thick, salty water running freely down from my forehead, over my cheeks, into my eyes and mouth. I tried to cry out, but no sound came. There was nothing left in my lungs but smoke-filled whispers of vapour. Someone was screaming behind me, someone else was crying. I tried to turn my head and realised I couldn't see properly with the sticky wetness blocking my vision. Tentatively I raised one hand to my head and attempted to rub my eyes. The hand came away covered in a slick red gauntlet of blood. All around me was a mountain of debris, so thick and dense I couldn't see beyond it to where the crying and screaming people were. The car was also blocking my view, half in, half out of what had once been the window, it was impossible to see what was left of the mangled vehicle, as the air was thick with a dense fog of smoke from the engine and disintegrated masonry from the front wall. I felt the shroud of glass over and under me and knew I must be lying among the remains of the window.