This chapter includes part of the inquest on Angela's death, and may be upsetting for some.

CHAPTER 39
Dai was keeping us in the loop, but in a very limited way. The trial, it seemed, was being held back until after an inquest, which made no sense to me. Surely the cause of death was not just obvious, but something best decided in the criminal trial? I was no legal expert, but it didn’t sit right in my mind.

We had a week before the hearing, anyway, which was quick, and I realised that while I was fretting at being stuck at Tom and Connie’s place, I would have fractured completely if I had simply gone back to a bed that had held more than myself far too many times to forget.. She still had belongings in my flat, and I didn’t think I could face that.

Rae made the best suggestion, and I realised she had been conspiring with Hra only when the offer came, via Amina.

“These ladies have seen nothing but the city, Jen. Mam’s lending you her car”

“Not insured on it, am I?”

“Five minutes and a phone call will sort that out, woman. Rae’s brought an international driving licence, so we can add both of you for a week or so temporary cover. They were going to hire a car, anyway”

“I didn’t realise”

“Jen, love, no shame. I really doubt I’d be able to register anything if… No. Not now. Tihani wants to see our mountains, and Debbie knows a camp site with amazing views. We’ve obviously got enough camping kit between us. Go with them, girl. Get some fresher stuff before the shitty bit”

“Is your Mum sure?”

“Absolutely. Look, talk it over with Tom, he’ll say the same. Sensible man is Tom, Connie too. Sensible woman”

I broached the subject with the two of them, and Tom was all for it.

“Just one thing, Jen: what sort of tents did you take to that festival?”

I showed him on the internet, and he burst out laughing.

“Sorry, love; not being rude, aye, but those will last about ten minutes if the weather gets up. Connie?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Crouching Demon?”

“Makes sense to me”

I was lost until he explained properly.

“Our big tent for going away with the dogs to anywhere other than the van. Big enough for four. Two bedrooms, sleeping bays; you know what I mean. Rock solid in the wind. Bit of a faff getting it set up, but everything’s colour-coded. Better than sleeping in the car”

Two days later, I was taking the slow road up past Aberystwyth, Dolgellau and Machynlleth to the pass through Ffestiniog and down to Betws y Coed, places I hadn’t been near since my last school trip. The RAF was out flying the Mach Loop, as Tom called it, howling round past Cadair Idris like mad things, which did impinge a little on my concentration. We stopped by the Cross Foxes for a break and a cuppa, and a little while later we were in Blaenau Ffestiniog itself.

Rae was scathing.

“Christ, Jen, don’t they have any fucking respect for the land?”

“Well, the money’s mostly English, just like the bastards who drown our villages. Very sore point around here, that”

“No offence, love, but your name’s not exactly that Welsh”

I realised, almost too late, that she was teasing, but I still answered her.

“Few greats back, my Dad’s family were in County Durham. Miners, aye? Long story, but not that different to round here. Coal owners really used to screw their workers, so there were strikes, but when the man you work for also owns all the shops around, and is your landlord as well, it’s a bit awkward. Strikers would end up living rough and starving, till they gave up and went back in. Dad’s lot decided to move away. Candymen, they called them. Blacklegs. All in the past now, though, like Amina’s family. We’re all Welsh”

“Thought her Mum was Pakistani”

“Nope. Two sides of her family, and Hira’s very proud of hers. Her ancestors on one side are pure Tiger Bay Lascars. Been here around five hundred years. The other side are from the Indian Army, first world war. They were demobbed to Britain first, so they ended up in all the port towns. Hira’s great whatever set up a tailoring business, stayed in Cardiff. Don’t know if she’s ever been to Pakistan. Her husband was from there, though. Hint: do not ask Amina about her Dad without wearing protective kit. Very sore point, that. Right: awkward bit of driving here, so I need to concentrate”

Half my life handed over to relative strangers, or simply sharing history with family? Never mind; I needed to get onto the A5 and through Betws.

There were some oohs and aahs as the hills took over, especially when I did the obligatory drive out to near Garth Farm for the postcard view, which had Tihani giggling. Tania gave her a Grandmum stare, and she pointed at our highest peak.

“Just, well, it’s so perfect, ay? Real mountain, all the bits except snow, and yet it’s so SMALL. I just had a think about one of those model villages”

That set the other two off, and I bit my tongue, for laughter was something we all needed. I drove us back to the A5, and as we curved round the last bend and the views opened out again, I got another chorus of appreciative noises.

“Map says it’s just on the left here, Jen. Looks like it’s right by the foot of that rocky one”

In, over a cattle grid, a farmer with a set of rules, and then the fun of trying to decode and erect our home from home.

We divided ourselves between the ‘bedrooms, Tania coming in with me, and then I collared Mr Farmer.

“You the group that Debbie said was coming, ah?”

“That’s us. We were wondering if there was a pub nearby, or at least a supermarket”

“No pubs for miles, but there’s a Co-Op ym Methesda, straight down that way. Be careful; police like to set up speed traps by the caravan park. If you do drive, don’t drink. Best pub there is the Cow”

I took the information back to our tent, and we decided that a simple supermarket run felt like the best plan, which turned into a supermarket and chip shop visit and then a couple of bottles of wine between us as we watched the sun set behind the mountains.

We had five days of gentle walking, including a visit to the ‘Cow’ for their folk night, and then it was time to face the journey south once again. The inquest awaited.

I was there on official business, so I was in green, with a small bundle of the clinical notes I had written when I had still been able to think straight, and I was welcomed into the witness box rather than directed. It was a few minutes before I realised what the fuck was going on.

The coroner was pleasant enough, but there was a clear direction to his questions that I most definitely did not like.

“Jennifer, you declared yourself as next of kin to the deceased, is that correct?”

“Yes I did”

“Are you, or were you, related to her in any way?”

“We were engaged to be married, your honour”

“Oh. My deepest condolences for your loss, Jennifer. Ayt what point did you become aware of the identity of the casualty?”

I couldn’t help it, and started to shake.

“Not until I had moved her hair and wiped some of the blood away”

“So it would have been a real shock to you?”

“Very much so, yes”

“And how did that affect your ability to treat the casualty?”

That was when it clicked, with memories of how that poor Adam Price had been treated, and that was why they wanted the cause of death established before the trial. I could just see that bastard Monroe, or maybe Jefferies, sniding away to their lawyer: how do we know she died from the crash? What if the other rugmuncher fucked up, made a mess of things cause they were scissor sisters? Careful, woman.

“It knocked me sideways, to be blunt. I was the paramedic on scene, though, so I had to stay switched on. I believe I acted professionally throughout, but to be on the safe side, I called my partner Tom Sellers to watch me, second guess, just in case. I recognise how stress can affect performance”

He talked me through my initial assessment of Angela’s injuries, as well as my actions, and I realised he had a very sharp medical brain as well as his legal expertise.

I was stood down at last, with the advice that I could remain in the public gallery for the remainer of the hearing, as my part was done, and next up was Tom, who was led down the same track as I had been pushed.

“She called me out almost immediately, ‘Tom, I need you here’, and then she asked me to watch her back, make sure she did it all the right way”

“And did she?”

“Your honour, I have no idea how she managed. Utter professionalism, right though. If it had been me, my wife there, I don’t think I could have been as calm. She’s always like that, even when the casualty gives her a black eye”

“That has happened to her?”

“Yes, your honour, at a fight outside a pub where we were called to deal with the casualties. And she had that dead baby case as well”

“Pontarddulais Road. Yes. I am aware of that incident”

Tom joined me and the girls, and then, fuck, then I nearly ran away, because it was ‘Traffic Sergeant Dorian Humphries, Crash Scenes Investigation’.

“We managed to secure multiple CCTV videos, your honour. We can establish the movements of two vehicles allegedly involved. I have prepared a diagram of the crash site for clarity”

“Where does your footage start?”

“Our first footage shows both vehicles at the Esso petrol station on Corporation Road, Grangetown. There are related matters involving the drivers that are more appropriate for the criminal trial, your honour”

“In short, sergeant?”

“Bilking and cloning, your honour. Er, driving off without payment and fraudulent use of number plates”

“And the next footage?”

“Lloyd George Avenue, at speed. Then we have three doorbell cameras and two business security systems on Herbert, Tyndall, Walker in sequence”

“What did you deduce from the footage, Sergeant?”

“The vehicles appear to have been racing each other. It was possible to calculate their speed along Walker Road by the times their image was caught on the doorbell systems”

“What speed did you calculate that they were being driven at?”

“Seventy-six miles per hour, your worship”

“What is the speed limit there?”

“Twenty miles per hour, your honour”

“Thank you. Would you please talk us through the results of your investigation, and your conclusions therefrom. Please feel free to use your diagram, so that it may be as clear as possible”

“Thank you, your honour”

The copper stepped down into the body of the court, a couple of ushers bringing out one of those giant easels we all use for training, and he flipped to his first bit of work after a quick word with one of the staff. A minute later, a large video screen lit up, with a photo of two cars, blurred by speed.

“This is a plan of the junction where the incident took place, Adeline Street and Walker Road. As you can see, there is a pinch point here, where the road goes from two lanes, one each way, down to a single lane requiring that traffic coming from this side gives way. There is a zebra crossing here… and the footway is built out from this, the north side, with bollards from here to here to prevent motor vehicles from encroaching”

He brought his laser pointer into use again, swirling it in a little circle that was fully on the Walker Road footpath, not at all on the corner with Adeline.

“This is where we believe the initial impact with Ms Meads occurred. We found what we believe to be her mobile phone just there, as well as several pieces of plastic from a VW Golf grill, plus a quantity of blood”

“So the impact was entirely off the carriageway, Sergeant?”

“The initial impact, sir”

Oh fuck.

“We have this footage here, from a business near the junction. It is very washed out by the vehicle lights, but I have set it to play as individual frames. HERE, we can just see the casualty, by means of a white shopping bag reflecting the headlights. Now, we see that the Ford car has taken the right lane so as to pass through the pinchpoint, and---here--- the Golf’s brake lights come on. Road marks suggest that the wheels locked and—here—you can see a jump as the Golf mounts the kerb inside the bollards, which is when---now—the brakes come off. Please note the pale object in mud-air here, which I believe was the shopping bag.

“Now… there, and there and there, and there, there are four more jumps to the rear lights. Three of those I believe were the vehicle coming off the footway onto Adeline Strret, then up and down over the next corner, as the cars continued to race”

“You mentioned four jumps, Sergeant”

“Your honour, may I ask that I tell this at my own pace? I ask only because I still find this case distressing”

This court understands. Please carry on”

“The casualty was struck hard enough to throw her bodily across the entire street and into the outer wall of the house opposite. The Golf that hit her only braked to enable it to mount the kerb with a lower risk of rolling. It did not brake before or after it collided with the victim. Examination of the vehicle showed all of the tyres to be well below the minimum legal tread depth. The geometry of the damage found suggests that the victim was thrown over the bonnet and into the windscreen, then thrown further , rather like a volley in tennis”

“What do you deduce from that, Sergeant?”

“That the driver actually accelerated as he struck Ms Meads, your honour”

He paused, then added the killer touch.

“That was also the disturbing… Sorry. The fourth jump to the lights we believe to have been his vehicle passing over one of the victim’s legs. I am afraid I find that a little hard to describe without distress”