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With the motion of the van and her body held rigid by the stretcher, Becca was drifting into sleep. ‘Becca, Becca, open your eyes for me,’ Shona said desperately. ‘Dad will be at the hospital, so be ready to give him a big smile.’ She lay down full length next to the stretcher, protecting her daughter’s battered body with her own, bracing them both from sliding around as Tommy took the bends and inclines at speed. The steel floor of the van dug into her hips and ribs as she clung on, whispering old family stories into Becca’s ear like charms to ward off the darkness that pressed on them both. How Becca had tripped as a toddler and knocked her front tooth out. How she’d once fallen in the lock on their only canal boating holiday and been hauled out by her mother grabbing the red ribbon of her pony tail. When those ran out Shona turned to snatches of favourite nursery rhymes, books that her daughter had loved as a child. She pressed her face close to Becca’s. ‘Not long now, darlin’. Stay awake. The car that hit you, what did it look like?’
‘Big car… black.’
‘Did you see who was driving? A man or a woman?’
Becca tried to shake her head. She grimaced in pain, the collar restricting her attempt.
‘How long, Tommy?’ Shona shouted desperately.
‘Two minutes. How’s she doing?’
Becca’s eyes were rolling back in her head, showing white. ‘Hurry, Tommy.’ Shona was on her knees, checking her daughter’s pulse and breathing. ‘Becca? Becca? Come on, come on.’ She rubbed her daughter’s good hand, hauling her back as she teetered on the edge of unconsciousness.
Tommy pulled into a chequered ambulance bay outside DRI’s Emergency Department and jumped from the cab. A man in a dark green paramedic uniform came towards him.
‘Can’t park there, pal.’
‘Aye? Well if I didnae have to do your job for you, I wouldn’t.’ He glared at the man. ‘I’m Tommy McCall, Kirkness lifeboat skipper. We’ve an RTA casualty. Head injury. Get a trolley. Now.’
They slid Becca onto the trolley when it arrived seconds later. ‘Okay, you can leave her to us,’ the doctor said, but Shona found she couldn’t uncurl her fingers. Tommy gently removed her hand.
‘Come here.’ He pulled her into a fierce hug. ‘Becca’s going to be fine. If she’s anything like her mother, she’ll be telling the doctors what to do in a minute.’
Shona was shaking, a howl gathering in her chest. It pressed against her throat, choking her breath. A plea to a god she didn’t believe in. Please don’t take my girl. Please don’t take my girl. Please don’t take my girl. Over and over, it filled her consciousness. She was spiralling down into a darkness where Becca was the only thing that mattered. She could feel Tommy’s lean body and smell his musky scent of salt and oil. She clung to his firmness to stop herself falling.
Gradually she stopped spinning, resurfacing amongst the light and noise of the hospital. No one was looking at her, she was just one drop in a sea of sorrows that washed through this place every day. She saw a woman, her battered face pale and drawn with fatigue. An old man who had fallen, his eyes roaming the ward for something solid and familiar to fix on. A crying child.
Slowly, her training and her anger began to kick in. Someone had done this to her beloved girl. She wiped the tears away with the heal of her hand. ‘You know the best bit of my job, Tommy?’ He shook his head, she continued. ‘Whoever did this, the fucker who hit my child with a two-ton car and drove off? I get to see they pay for what they’ve done.’
‘Aye.’ He took her by the shoulders, looking her in the eye. ‘You know what’s even better? You don’t have to do it on your own.’
‘I know. I know. You’re right.’ She gripped his hand. He gave her a tissue and she blew her nose. ‘Thank you.’ Then she turned away and took out her phone.
‘Murdo, I’m up at DRI.’ She briefed him on what had happened.
‘Dear God. Are you all right, boss? I’m on my way.’
‘Listen, Murdo, it’s okay. Tommy’s with me. There’s some things I need you to do.’
‘Anything.’
‘Get a team over there, it’s a crime scene. Pick up the bike. Talk to Hector McCartney who owns Mainsgill Farm. That’s a dead-end road, see if he’s had any visitors today.’
‘I will. Who would do such a thing? To drive away from an accident like that? Nobody local.’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ Shona replied. Thank God Becca had her new phone on her. Rob had complained bitterly about the expense, but her old one wasn’t reliable. Shona shuddered. Becca could have lain by the side of that road for hours. ‘Thing is, if the driver wasn’t going to or from the farm, then someone must have followed her up there. Becca’s had a bit of bother recently. It might not be an accident.’
‘You mean the drugs thing with the lads? Bit of tit-for-tat revenge? Surely not?’
‘Well, they may think Becca got off lightly cos her mother’s a police officer. Plus, they might have meant to scare her, but it went wrong.’ She cleared her throat. ‘There’s something else, Murdo. Becca got suspended from school last week for lamping a bully, who was excluded too. Her family might also have a grievance. And Murdo…’ Shona said. ‘You know I can’t touch this. It will have to be another officer.’
‘Hitting a young lassie on a bike? The traffic guys will be on this like a rat up a drainpipe, don’t you worry. I’ll get Ravi to work it from our side and talk to the fiscal,’ Murdo replied. ‘Anything else, boss?’
‘Can you get my car back to my house? It’s still at the scene, keys are in it. Rob is at home, but his phone is switched off
,’ she lied. ‘If you see him, get him to call me.’
‘Righto. Give Becca our love. Let me know if there’s anything else. Anything. We’re all thinking of you, boss.’
