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Blind Faith - Conclusion, Chapter 4 |
| Written by Philip Neale | |
| Friday, 22 August 2008 | |
 Life appeared to be about to return to normal for Brian and Susie, but fate had one more hand to play in the dangerous game that had enveloped them......
Brian and Susie Drake read all this with an enormous sense of relief after the events of the past few months. Their lives had been turned upside down by a single act of chance in a city where they had become lost. It was with this sense of returning normality that they ventured out alone once more, free from the possible attentions of Colin Carrington's henchmen. With the damage to the BMW now repaired, Brian had suggested a trip to the east coast and he and Susie set off one Saturday morning. They had been travelling for something approaching two hours and were making their way along the Lincoln by-pass, when a vehicle in the rear view mirror caught Brian's attention. There was something disturbingly familiar about the figure at the wheel of the dark green Ford Mondeo which had been following them for the last five or six miles. It had made no attempt to overtake so far, but had remained close behind at all times. Brian started in his seat and Susie picked up on the sudden stiffening in his driving position.
"What? What is it Brian? What's wrong?"
"There's a car following us. It's been there for a while now...........Jesus! It's Benson. Take a look; it is, isn't it?"
"I don't know, it could be. You were close to him that day. I can't be sure, I only saw photographs that the police showed to us."
"It's him, I'm certain. This'll be Carrington's revenge on us for what we did!"
Brian was becoming increasingly agitated and almost over steered on a couple of occasions. Drivers passing by sounded their horns in annoyance at his erratic driving, but he remained oblivious to all of their insults as his attention focussed on the car still tailing them. He never saw the on-coming articulated lorry which crossed the central reservation after a blow out on one of its front tyres. Had he been in full control, evasive manoeuvres would have taken the BWM out of the path of the juggernaut. As it was, the unstable load of steel girders whipped the trailer around and caught their vehicle a glancing blow. The force of the impact was enough to send the BMW into a violent spin which only ended when it collided with the support pillars of the next flyover. The car ended up on its roof and Brian blacked out.
His injuries were relatively minor, and apart from stiffness in his neck where the seat belt had anchored him in place, he had only a few cuts and bruises to show for his part in the accident. Susie however, had not been as fortunate. Facing the rear of the car at the point of impact, and with her seat belt pulled aside to enable her to look at the ‘pursuing' car, she had suffered multiple injuries to her neck, legs and arms. As the emergency vehicles approached, Brian had been able to struggle free of the now crumpled BWM, but it took several hours for Fire and Rescue crews to cut Susie free. From that day to this she had remained unresponsive in ICU at Lincoln General Hospital, and Brian had been told by medical staff to prepare himself for the almost certain result that she would not recover. The driver of the car following them was not Michael Benson at all, but some other poor unfortunate individual caught up as a fatality in the pile up.
So now here he was, sitting where he had been ever since the accident and staring at the equipment keeping alive the one person he had ever loved. Faced with the decision to turn off the life support which had kept her warm and life-like, his heart sank not for the first time at the prospect of carrying on his life without her. The ‘beep-bip, beep-bip' of the EGC mocked him in harsh tones as his hand wavered over the switch. The resident at his side had been an almost ever present during the traumatic time he had been at Susie's bed. He had listened kindly to the one-sided conversations which Brian had used in an attempt to reach her. Now that was all behind him; all of his attempts had apparently failed and it seemed like Colin Carrington would have his revenge after all.
"Mr Drake?"
The voice of the doctor shook Brian out of his reverie and he blinked away his tears.
"Yes. Yes I know, it's time. There's nothing left to do; you've all been very kind. Just one more moment please."
The white clad figure nodded, smiled a weak and hopeless smile and closed the door behind him. He seen it all before and a few moments more wouldn't matter. Brian turned back to the bed, taking his finger off the switch.
"Susie darling, it's time. I've got to go now. I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. I should have just pulled over. Now it's too late................goodbye my love."
With one last huge sigh and a sob which could have brought down the Philistine Temple without Samson's help, he flicked the switch powering the life support equipment. The ECG monitor banished the last flicker of Susie's life from its right hand side, and the cruel flat lines of death marched across its screen from the left. Brian planted one last kiss on the warm, pink cheek of his beloved wife and turned to the door. There he paused one last time and looked back. There was a flicker on the ECG screen. He shook his head, convinced that it was no more than an illusion. There it was again, and again, and another stronger this time. Standing transfixed he yelled out for attention, and a herd of medical staff barged him out of the way as they crowded around the bed.
One hour later, and with all of the paraphernalia of the ICU now removed, Brian smiled down into the deep brown eyes of his darling Susie. Still swathed in the bandages which adorned her head he could not remember when she had looked more beautiful.
"Brian?"
"Yes my love?"
"Did I die?"
"Of course not silly, you've just been away for a while. Time you got up out of that bed my girl, we've things to do."
The blind faith that they had both placed in the hands of Lewis and Palmer very nearly cost them dear. It was not something he would ever consider doing again.
Copyright 2008 Philip Neale |
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