Around five o’clock yesterday I drove into Warwick to give blood. On the way home I had just stopped at traffic lights about a mile from home when a dark blue Vauxhall forced itself into the back of my car whilst travelling at around fifteen or twenty miles an hour. I saw it approach in the rear view mirror and partly thought “Shit!” and partly “Yep, that’s about right. It’s been nearly an hour since something went wrong”. The Vauxhall forced me into the back of the car in front of me and that car into the one in front of it. As I got out the driver of the Vauxhall was repeatedly apologising and saying that she had pressed the brakes but nothing had happened. I wanted to say “Something did happen. You ruined my car” but went for something along the lines of “Well, we’re both ok and that’s the main thing”. There was a fair amount of damage to the rear of my car but the front had been completely transformed, moving the metal inwards and upwards and the glass down onto the tarmac. I spoke to the man I hit (Tim) and the girl he hit (Sophie) and they were both okay but could instantly feel the soreness of the impact in the neck and shoulders as I could. Jennie, who had hit me, first called her husband and then the police. We moved her car and then mine to the side of the road slightly and then began exchanging details. I can’t pretend I didn’t enjoy taking charge of the situation. I called Marianna to tell her I’d be a little late. I think I could hear her googling 'injurylawyers4u' while we spoke. “What sort of shape is the car in?”. “Well, it’s not the shape of a car anymore”. Jennie’s husband arrived before the police. He was brought by someone else. He walked towards his wife but didn’t speak to her. Instead he inspected the damage to her car and then without addressing me inspected my car and then Tim’s and Sophie’s. He then spent several minutes talking to his mate who’d brought him before going to speak to his wife as the police arrived. He was thoroughly charmless. If Jennie woke up with any injuries this morning they would probably have been inflicted by him after they got home. I hadn’t realised so little happened in Leamington and Warwick but our little incident warranted two police cars and four officers and an entire fire engine crew. An officer advised Tim and Sophie that, since there was minimal damage to their cars, they could leave. When told where I lived he said that if mine would start and the wheels would turn I could drive it home. And so I did. After a few hundred yards the exhaust began bouncing off the tarmac.
It was a very lengthy process speaking to the insurers that evening. They wanted a description of Sophie, Tim and Jennie in case I had been a victim of some sort of scam. For some reason I could give a fully comprehensive description of young, slim, blonde attractive Sophie even down to some piercings and tattoos she had. Tim was ginger and wearing the uniform of his work place so that was easy but Jennie had made no impact on my memory at all.
“Err, a woman”.
“We do require a full description of all of the people involved, sir”
“A woman, probably in her early fifties, at least ten stone over weight, particularly sallow skin probably as a result of several decades of smoking and consuming a high fat diet, wearing the outfit of a Doncaster barmaid circa 1978 presenting herself at some speed into the back of my car”.
“Thank you”.
I feel that the four of us are now bound together forever. Tim will probably call me up any minute and suggest the four of us go out for a pint. Or he may want us all to go on a caravanning holiday. I might suggest we don’t tell Jennie.
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