by Ted Tayler
As June eased into July, Phil Hounsell found himself with the task of spearheading an attempt to challenge police behaviour and attitudes that consciously or otherwise sanctioned hate crime. His ACC handed him the unenviable task of salvaging the shambles of an internal inquiry that revealed officers’ complete ignorance of the force’s own hate policy. Phil looked at the sorry story and wondered why the dirty jobs seemed to come his way these days.
This revelation didn’t help the public to grow to love their police service. It was just another brick in the wall between the police and the people they served. It grew every day. Phil drove home to Bath that evening and told Erica that he was sick and tired of battering his head against a brick wall.
“It’s what you’ve always done Phil,” she said, “what else could you do?”
“They get more job satisfaction stacking shelves in Tesco,” he moaned, “the trouble is they’ve got me by the balls and they know it. I need to protect my pension and see it out for a few more years. I reckon I can expect a few more rotten jobs such as this one. Picking over the flesh of fellow officers who have been hung out to dry is a job I detest.”
“Well, haven’t they asked for it?” asked Erica.
“Maybe, but what I’m saying is that the young, thrusting fast-tracked officers never get tarnished by working on these cases. They get off-loaded onto the dinosaurs.”
Erica moved from her chair and came over to sit on her husband’s lap. She gave him a hug.
“Whatever you do Phil, you do it well, so they know they’ll get the job done properly. As for the future, whatever you decide to do, I’ll support you. As for the present; what do you say to an early night?”
Phil looked at his wife, and then at his briefcase with the files on the case he had brought home to work on later.
“Yes, please,” he replied.
In the Hounsell household, things were clearly improving. The following morning, out on the Somerset levels, things went from bad to worse. Flash flooding had left cars stranded and roads under water. A storm overnight resulted in two weeks’ worth of rain falling on a small stretch of countryside in less than fifteen minutes. Schools were closed, properties evacuated because of the threat of floodwater.
Zara Wheeler and Toby Drysdale had been sent to Shepton Mallet. They were there to lend a hand in warning householders along the banks of the River Sheppey to stay tuned to local radio for an update on the situation.
Zara stood chatting to a guy from the Environment Agency when a reporter from BBC News grabbed them both for an interview. The poor bloke from the Agency had been on the spot for hours.
The best he could muster was a clichéd ‘Our teams have been hard-pressed this week. We are doing everything we can to contain matters and prevent them from deteriorating.’
The reporter asked Zara if the police could give any advice for their viewers.
"It's important that people should not try to drive or walk through the floodwaters," she said.
As she uttered the words, Toby shouted for her.
Zara apologised to the reporter and ran to their car.
“What’s up?” she asked, “thanks for rescuing me. I felt a prat doing that. I can never think of what to say.”
“It sounds as if someone should have listened to your advice,” Toby replied, “they’ve spotted a car in the river a half a mile away.”
CHAPTER 14
Toby and Zara sped towards the scene of the accident as fast as conditions allowed. Zara noticed the TV crew loading stuff into their van and knew they would soon be following.
The fast-running River Sheppey looked uninviting. A neighbourhood police constable ran towards the car when Toby stopped.
“The car must have been travelling along this minor road at speed late last night. With the torrential rain and the flash floods, they must have tried to cross the bridge. The force of the water took them through the wooden fence and over the side. The car has been partly submerged for ten hours. It’s higher in the water than it should be, it must have caught up on a tree or something that swept downstream earlier.”
“Are we looking for just the driver?” asked Toby as he got out of the car and shrugging off his coat, he headed for the waters.
“Toby!” shouted Zara, “you can’t go in there; it’s running so fast you’ll be swept away.”
“Get the rope from the boot of my car mate,” Toby called to the young PC.
“Okay,” he replied, “I’ve got rope too in my vehicle. Maybe we can set up a human chain; it’s not that far.”
Toby tied one end of the rope around the trunk of a willow tree.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Dave,” replied the young policeman. “I suppose I should tell you before we go any further - I can’t swim. I’m not afraid of the water, though, so I’ll have the end of this rope around my waist. If you two can attach yourself to my rope, then you can try to get out there to see whether it was just the driver. Rescue isn’t on the cards. We’re only counting the number of dead after this length of time in the water.
Zara and Toby looked at one another.
“A risk assessment hasn’t been carried out, and the Health and Safety implications of this are horrendous,” said Toby, trying not to laugh.
“I didn’t sign up to push a mouse around on a desk,” smiled Zara, “just be careful.”
They kicked off their shoes, threaded the rope through their belt loops and as the TV crew arrived on the scene, they entered the water.
The water was fast-running; they soon found that that water current ran twice as strong underneath the surface. Toby turned back towards the bank.
“We need to move upstream,” he called to Dave, “we’ll secure your rope to a tree further up, and then we’ll go in from there. If Zara and I can get as far out as possible, as soon as possible, we’ll let the current take us towards the car. Stopping might be painful, but we can assess the situation and then you can pull us ashore. Just shout to one of those TV people to help you take the strain.”
They were soon set to go. The two friends ran into the river and struck out for the centre. It was a struggle, but they got far enough so that the river carried them to the submerged vehicle. They both grabbed hold of the car and clung on for dear life. Toby took a deep breath and ducked under the surface. Fifteen seconds later he came up spluttering,
“There’s a baby in a child seat suspended upside-down in the back. Her head is out of the water. I can’t tell for sure, but there’s a chance she’s alive. The driver didn’t make it though I’m afraid. Whether she drowned or died in the crash, I can’t tell.”
Zara’s heart sank. That poor child; losing her mother so young; she edged around the rear of the car, hanging onto the bumper.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” shouted Toby. The rope tightened. They had no leeway.
Zara shouted to Toby to follow her.
“The water is less powerful this side,” she yelled, “maybe I can get the door open.”
“We don’t have enough rope,” said Toby.
“It’s could be locked,” said Zara. “I’ll use your baton to smash the window. If I can get the door open, I’ll detach my belt and go inside the car.”
“That’s crazy Zara,” said Toby, handing Zara his baton.
“We can’t wait for Toby; if that baby’s alive we need to act fast. If Dave’s right and there’s a blockage keeping the car high in the water, the force of this floodwater could shift it.”
“Exactly,” said Toby, “putting you in even more danger. What if it gets swept away?”
“I’ll be on the telly,” she called out, grinning at her best friend while detaching the belt that secured her to the rope. On the bank, Dave prayed. The sound man who volunteered to help with the rope smiled benignly.
“O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come, our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home. Yeah, I’ve done ‘Songs of Praise’. We always t
urn to religion at times such as these don’t we?”
“Bugger religion,” said Dave. “The bloody paperwork to fill in if this goes pear-shaped that’s what is worrying me.”
In the water, Zara felt numb with cold. She steeled herself for what was needed next. Two sharp raps with the baton smashed the glass. She cleared as much glass as she could and struggled to get the door open. She had been right; it was easier with the downstream door. She clambered into the interior. The water was a foot below the baby’s head. Was it rising or falling? She checked the baby’s pulse.
Her fingers had frozen now, and she was getting tired. She wasn’t sure. The baby didn’t react to her touch, but it wasn’t stone cold. There might still be a chance.
Zara tried again. There was something there; weak but steady. She moved her hand across the baby’s face to free her from the child seat. She was sure she felt a whisper of breath on her hand; she hoped her imagination wasn’t playing tricks on her.
Zara had seen Erica getting Shaun and Tracey in and out of the car many times when relations between them had been so much better. It always looked so simple.
She wondered how Erica might have coped with a seat upside-down in a few feet of water.
“What’s happening Zara?” asked Toby, concern evident in his voice.
The seatbelt clips suddenly released, and the child dropped into Zara’s arms, which was just above the surface of the river water.
“She’s free,” cried Zara. “I’m bringing her out.”
“Wait for me to get as far around as I can to help Zara,” shouted Toby.
Zara held the child’s head out of the water with her right arm and slipped her left arm through the broken window. She was exhausted. Toby reached out and just managed to stretch enough to put a strong arm around them both.
“Dave,” he shouted, “haul us back.”
The two men on the bank took the strain. It lasted for only fifteen seconds at most, but it seemed like forever. Many pairs of hands helped them ashore when they scrambled up the slippery bank.
Because of her concentrated effort, the noise of the water and her thoughts of that poor little mite, hanging there for ten hours, Zara didn’t hear the emergency services arrive. The baby was levered gently from her frozen hands and rushed to an ambulance wrapped in a space blanket.
Toby too resembled a competitor after completing the London Marathon. She looked at the crowd of people gathered around her; she could hear voices and applause. Zara could see the sky; the world was spinning. Dave, the young constable caught her as she collapsed.
The sound man heard a noise and looked towards the submerged car. With a groan and a scraping of metal, it broke free from its invisible captor under the surface. It was carried rapidly downstream where it finally smashed into the stone parapets in the centre of the next bridge across the Sheppey.
The fire engines set off in pursuit. The baby’s mother had to wait before her body reached dry land.
Zara came around briefly in the ambulance.
“How’s the baby?” she managed to ask.
“It’s touch and go, but she’s got a chance; thanks to you,” said a female paramedic.
Zara closed her eyes. A baby girl. She was so small and vulnerable, alone on a night such as that with her dead mother. Life could be so cruel sometimes.
At the hospital, the staff took over from the ambulance crew. They kept warming her gradually, bringing her body temperature back up to normal. An hour after Zara arrived she sat up drinking a warm drink. She was shaky, but on the mend.
A head appeared around the curtain of the cubicle. Dave, the young constable had arrived.
“How are you feeling, ma’am?” he asked.
“Getting there, thanks,” she replied weakly, “any news yet on the baby?”
“Nothing concrete,” he said, “you know what they’re like. She’d been out there since nearly midnight; Mum dressed her well enough for a short trip in the car in the middle of summer, but ten hours is a long time. They say she’s eighteen months. Still, while there’s life, as they say.”
Toby was Zara’s next visitor. He looked rather better than she felt.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Don’t worry, Zara,” Toby replied. “I love the water, remember? Although this time it will be you that gets the headlines.”
“If I don’t get carpeted for going against those instructions they give us; about going into dangerous situations without the proper authorization and back-up.”
“That camera crew captured every second of the rescue. Every country in the world will have shown it by tomorrow. The bosses might shout at the three of us for getting stuck in, without a second thought to the danger. But the public will see the truth. You were a bloody hero. The little girl has a fifty-fifty chance of making it thanks to you.”
“Well, I’ll get back to Shepton, I guess,” said Dave, thinking he was surplus to requirements, as the two best friends stood holding hands.
Toby hung around while Zara’s condition continued to improve. They both grabbed some food later in the day and a good night’s sleep should finish her recovery. Toby kissed her on the forehead as she drifted off to sleep; he found a nurse and asked if he could visit the baby to check on her progress.
“She’s still holding her own,” replied the nurse, “they recovered the car and her mother’s body this afternoon. Her family has been informed. The little girl is called Grace.”
“Can I see her?” asked Toby.
“Her grandparents are with her now. The mother’s parents that is, it’s hard to understand sometimes how so much tragedy can be dealt out to just one family.”
“How do you mean?”
“The father served in Helmand and was severely wounded when Grace was three months old. They airlifted him back to the UK and admitted him to Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham. Kerry, the mother, drove backwards and forwards a couple of hundred times until he died of his injuries in February. After surviving that, she’s killed on a local road she knows as well as the back of her hand. There’s no telling is there?”
“None whatever,” said Toby, resting a comforting hand on the shoulder of the nurse. “OK, I’ll be back in the morning to see my colleague. I hope we can drop in to see Grace before we leave.”
“I’m sure her family will want to thank you both; Grace is all they have left now.”
Toby left the hospital and made his way home. In the morning, he dropped into Zara’s house to pick up a few things he thought she might need. He knew the hiding-place for the spare back door key. This was the first time he had needed to use it. When he reached the hospital, he found Zara sat up and irritable.
“The doctor says I can leave,” she muttered, “my clothes are wrecked and…”
“Steady on,” Toby said, “the cavalry’s here. I picked up the essentials for you. Clean underwear, jeans and a sweatshirt. It might be basic, but it will do the job until we get you home. I brought your toiletries too, so you can face the world with a smile.”
“Oh, Toby, you’ll make someone a wonderful husband.”
Zara threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
“Someone’s feeling better,” a voice boomed from behind them. The Assistant Chief Constable had turned up for a visit.
“Oh sorry sir,” said Toby, “good morning.”
“Could you leave us alone please Drysdale,” said the ACC. “I need to talk to DI Wheeler.”
Zara sat back on the bed. The ACC sat opposite her on a chair.
“That was a very foolhardy thing you did yesterday young lady; as the senior officer, you should have waited until a decision could be taken on how best to move forward. You know the procedures we have to follow. Fortunately, for you the outcome was successful, but we could have lost two, even three officers yesterday. The press and the public will want to praise you to high heaven for your actions. They are waiting outside the hospital for their pound of flesh. Make the most of your
fifteen minutes of fame. Going forward, this won’t do your career any favours; in fact, it may scupper your chances of the accelerated promotion we anticipated. The force only rewards team players DI Wheeler. There’s no place for loose cannons, no matter how worthy the cause.”
“I wish to get dressed now Sir if I may,” said Zara angrily, “I want to visit the baby to check on her condition before I leave. The press can wait. As for my career, it will be what it will be. I shall continue to work hard, serve the public and help lock up the criminals. If that isn’t what the police are for, then, going forward, there should be a rethink on what’s important.”
The ACC left her alone. Zara got dressed with tears stinging her eyes. Stupid man! How could anyone abandon a baby in a car in fast-running water until someone who never got their hands dirty completed a risk assessment?
She found Toby in the corridor. He brought her up-to-date with Grace’s progress and her family situation. Zara’s heart went out even more to the little mite she had held in her arms yesterday. When they reached the ICU, Zara looked in to see a middle-aged couple sat by a bed.
“That’s Grace’s grandparents,” said Toby. “Kerry’s mother and father.”
Zara walked into the room. The two heads turned towards her. The man stood up and thrust out a big hand. His wife hugged Zara and led her over to look at Grace.
“She’s doing well now,” said the woman, “she’s a fighter, is our Grace, she’s going to make it.”
“Just glad I could help,” whispered Zara. She took hold of two fingers of Grace’s left hand that poked out from the bedding that kept her snug and warm.
“We can’t thank you enough,” said Grace’s grandfather.
“We’re so sorry about Kerry,” said Zara, “can I come back to see little Grace later?”
“Of course, you can dear.”
