Autumn | Page 2

going forward in a straight line, still going at the same speed. It left the
road and smashed up the kerb. The passenger-side door scraped against
the trunk of a heavy oak tree and then the car stopped dead when the
centre of the bonnet wrapped itself around another tree trunk.

There was no-one else about. I stopped and then turned the van around
in the road and drove back towards the crash. All I could think was the
driver was going to blame the way I was driving and it would be his
word against mine and Christ, if he took me to Court he'd probably
have a good case. I kept thinking that I was going to lose my job and
that I'd have to explain what had happened to the boss and...and bloody
hell, I didn't even stop to think that the other driver might be hurt until I
saw him slumped over his steering wheel.
I stopped my car a few feet behind the crash and got out to help. My
legs felt heavy - I didn't want to look but I knew that I had to. As I got
closer I could see the full extent of the damage to the car. It had hit the
tree at such a bloody speed that the bonnet was almost wrapped right
around it.
I opened the driver's door (it was jammed shut and it took me a while to
get it open). The driver looked about thirty-five years old, and I didn't
need to touch him to know that he was dead. His face had been
slammed hard against the steering wheel, crushing his nose. His dead
eyes gazed up at me, giving me a cold stare which made me feel as if
he was blaming me for what had just happened. Blood was pouring
from what was left of his nose and from his mouth which hung wide
open. It wasn't dripping; for the best part of a minute the thick crimson
blood was literally pouring from the body and pooling on the floor
around the dead man's feet.
I didn't have a fucking clue what to do. For a few seconds I just stood
there like a bloody fool, first looking up and down the silent road and
then staring at the jet of steam which was shooting up from the battered
car's radiator and into the cold morning air. I felt sick to my stomach,
and when the hissing eventually stopped all I could hear was the drip,
drip, drip of blood. It had only been a couple of minutes since I'd eaten.
I looked back at the body again and felt myself lose control of my
stomach. I dropped down to my knees and threw up in the grass at the
side of the road.
Once the nausea had passed I dragged myself up onto my feet and
walked back to the van. I reached inside for the phone, realising that

although there was nothing I could do for the poor bastard in the car, I
had to do something. In a strange way it was easier knowing that he
was dead. I could just tell the police that I'd been driving along and I'd
found the car crashed into the tree. No-one needed to know that I'd
been around when the accident took place.
The bloody phone wasn't working.
There I was, out in the countryside just outside a major town and I
couldn't get a signal. I shook the phone, waved it in the air and even
banged it against the side of the fucking van but I couldn't get rid of the
ÔNo Service' message on the display. I wasn't thinking straight. I tried
dialling 999 three or four times but I couldn't get anything. It didn't
even ring out. The phone just kept bleeping Ôunobtainable' in my ear.
So if no-one needed to know that I'd seen the crash, I found myself
thinking, no-one needed to know that I'd been the one who found it. It
sickens me now when I think back and remember that the next thing I
did was climb back into the van with the intention of driving home. I
decided that I'd call the police or someone from there and tell them that
I'd seen an abandoned car at the side of the road. I didn't even need to
tell them about the body. I guess that it must have been the effects of
shock. I'm not usually such a spineless bastard.
I was in a daze, almost a trance. I climbed back into the van, started the
engine and began to drive back towards town. I stared at the crashed
car in the rear view mirror until it was out of sight, then I put