Fraser's Line (19 page)

‘My shoes feel horrible! I need some other ones.’ She wasn’t going to be easily pacified.

‘Come on!’ Fraser decided to try the masterful approach. ‘We’ll go up on the pier. It’ll be drier up there.’

Soon they were standing on the pier, with the swirling waters beneath them. It was quite crowded – obviously it had been the choice for half-term entertainment for many parents. Fraser held on to their hands tightly. Kate walked with rather pronounced steps, lifting each foot as if it was a great weight.

‘I know!’ said George, as they were passing a souvenir shop with some beach shoes in a stand outside, ‘you could get Kate some jellies!’

‘Jellies? Whatever are they?’ Fraser felt distinctly out of touch.

‘Or crocs!’ Kate suddenly brightened up. ‘I could have some crocs! Oh please, Grandpa – everyone wears them!’

They went into the shop, where Kate delightedly tried on some ungainly plastic shoes which looked, Fraser thought, rather like boats. She chose a shocking pink version – a colour she obviously considered highly desirable. She came out, a little unsteady on her feet, but smiling. Fraser, relieved that equilibrium was restored, carried the sodden shoes and socks in a carrier bag. Looking round at other children Fraser had to admit that she was right – it seemed that everyone else did indeed wear crocs.

While the other two had been occupied with the purchase of the shoes George had busied himself trying on a policeman’s helmet.

‘I wish I could have that helmet,’ he said. ‘Kate’s got new shoes – can’t I have the helmet, Grandpa? It would keep my head warm!’

‘First things first. Let’s start with lunch.’

Fraser led them away from all the temptations the shop held and they went off to find the restaurant. It was a relief to discover that their chosen dishes were on the menu and both downed their platefuls with amazing speed. Kate remarked that Mummy said chips were not good for you, and you shouldn’t have them very often, but this did not seem to deter either of them from enjoying their culinary delights to the full.

‘Now can we go on the rides!’ cried George. Fraser suddenly realised that he might have done this the wrong way round – with their stomachs full perhaps it wasn’t the best moment to be jogged up and down. He suggested they have a walk round first, so they could decide which rides they would like. They were quite ready to comply, and gasped in amazement at the helter skelter, the ‘wild river’ flume, and the water mountain.

By now it seemed safe to let them enjoy rides appropriate for their age. They started on the merry-go-round, each choosing a horse and climbing astride it in a flash. As Fraser stood watching them going round, laughing and waving at him as each circuit brought them near, he suddenly thought of Angela, and how pleased she would be to see him looking relaxed and happy. He wondered what agonies she was currently suffering as she was forced to relive every moment of the fateful night that her husband had been killed, and wished he could have been some help to her. It had been good to receive her text messages, but the truncated words and strangulated sentences had done little to paint much of a picture of events. At least it was contact, and for that he was grateful. She had kept her promise and been in touch almost every day.

The rides over, Fraser thought it was time to wander through the gift shops. He told them they could each buy one thing, and that they should also choose a gift for Mummy and Daddy.

‘The helmet!’ cried George. ‘I’m going to buy the helmet!’ He tried it on, and then spotted a Kiss-Me-Quick hat. Replacing the helmet with this latest piece of ‘must have’ headgear, he went to admire his reflection in the mirror. Kate’s attention was attracted by the jewellery.

‘Oh Grandpa, look! A diamond ring, just like Mummy’s!’ She held up her finger, exhibiting an ill-fitting ‘gold’ ring with a cumbersome glass stone that looked as if it would fall off at the earliest opportunity.

Everything in the shop caused great excitement, no matter how unsuitable. In the end George came away clutching a ‘quill pen’ which had surpassed everything else in his estimation. It consisted of a long white feather ending in a ball point, and he held it lovingly against him. Kate had stuck obdurately to her ‘diamond’ ring. After a great deal of debate, they eventually selected a lurid necklace for Sarah, and for Michael a stick of Brighton rock.

The wind was beginning to get up as they walked towards the exit. George held his pen aloft, pretending it was an aeroplane, and before he knew it a sudden gust of wind had wrenched it from his grasp and sent it flying over the edge of the pier.

Just as he was about to bemoan his fate George’s attention was distracted by a number of children with kites. There was now a fair amount of wind, and the kites were flying well.

‘Oh look, Grandpa! Kites! Oh Grandpa, can we have a kite? Oh, please, Grandpa!’

‘Oh yes, please, Grandpa!’ echoed Kate.

Fraser hesitated. He had already spent a good deal of money on them, which he did not grudge for one moment, but he wondered how good it was for them to have every whim satisfied.

‘The thing is …’ he began.

The kites did look attractive, and the children running along the promenade with them were obviously having fun – and the twins’ eager faces went straight to his soft heart. Anyway, it would help George to forget the loss of the pen.

‘All right,’ he said, ‘we can fly them as we make our way back to the station.’

‘Oh, thank you, Grandpa. Thank you – you’re the best Grandpa in the world!’

Any lingering doubts dispelled, Fraser led them to the shop selling kites.

George chose one with a smiley train’s face painted on it, and Kate chose a pink one with a fairy.

Once they had learned to get the kites launched they were completely happy. Sometimes the kites suddenly dived straight down to the ground, but it was soon possible to get them airborne again. Fraser worried that it was getting more difficult to hold on to the children, and he had to break into a run to keep up with them. The wind grew stronger and the kites fairly sped through the air.

Suddenly a strong gust tugged at the kites and George’s string slipped from his grasp. He pulled his other hand out of his Grandfather’s and set off at a run to catch it.

‘George! Stop. Don’t run on. Let it go, George! George!’

Kate was also concerned. ‘Don’t run George!’ she cried.

But the little boy paid no heed, so intent was he on recapturing his prized possession. He was running ahead, darting through the people, when the wind changed direction, and the kite turned inland.

‘George!’ cried Fraser, ‘stop! Stop!’ Then, to Fraser’s watching horror, George turned direction also and ran off the pavement into the road in hot pursuit.

The next moment there was a screeching of brakes and a thud – the memory of which would stay with Fraser for the rest of his life.

There followed a kaleidoscope of images, a mixture of sounds and sights. Kate was screaming, people were crowding at the edge of the pavement, a young man got out of his car, looking very distressed, another car stopped and a young woman went over to the scene and bent down, and others joined to make a little circle round the small form lying on the road. Fraser, distraught, and desperate to go to the boy, did not want to leave Kate. A grey-haired lady appeared and said gently, ‘I’ll look after the little girl. Leave her with me.’ And she took Kate to a seat, away from the edge of the road, put her arm round her, and talked quietly to her.

‘Stay there, Kate,’ said Fraser. ‘I’ll be right back.’

‘Grandpa!’ Kate’s face was twisted with misery. ‘Is George dead?’

‘I’m sure he’s not, Kate. Just try and be brave for me. I’ll be back in a minute.’

Kate nodded, and allowed the grey-haired lady to comfort her.

Fraser crossed to the scene in the middle of the road, his heart thumping so loudly he thought it would burst. The young man had gone white, and his whole body was shaking. In strangled tones he said, ‘Oh God! He ran out straight in front of me – there was nothing I could do. He just darted into the road. I’m so sorry. I’m so dreadfully sorry.’

The young woman stood up. ‘Are you his Grandfather? I’m an off-duty ambulance driver, I was just passing and I saw it happen. I’ve called an ambulance – here they are now, and the Police will be here any minute.’

Fraser saw that she had covered the little body with her jacket. He had to ask the question, but he couldn’t bring himself to frame the words. Instead he said, ‘Is he all right?’

‘There’s a pulse – but I’d say he is pretty badly hurt. I’ve made sure no one’s moved him.’

Everyone stood back to let the paramedics through. They did their examination, and then turned to Fraser.

‘We’re taking him to the East Sussex County Hospital – they’re ready to receive him. We need you to come in the Ambulance, Sir – there are some questions we shall have to ask.’

‘What about Kate?’ asked Fraser, in anguish. ‘I don’t know what to do about her. She’s with that lady over there. I can’t take her to the hospital – she’ll be too frightened.’

The Policeman intervened. ‘We’ll get a WPC to look after her, sir. We’ll take her to the Police Station until her parents can fetch her. Don’t worry, she’ll be fine with us. Just go and tell her that’s what’s going to happen, and then you must get in the Ambulance. The boy needs to be rushed to the hospital.’

Fraser went to speak to Kate. ‘Look Kate, George needs some treatment, and we have to get him to the hospital quickly. Now, I want you to be very brave, and let a nice Police lady look after you, and take you to the Police station, to wait for Mummy and Daddy. They’ll come and take you back home. Will you do that for me Kate? It’s what will help George most of all.’

With tears running down her face Kate solemnly nodded. She was holding on tightly to the grey-haired lady’s hand. The lady promised she would stay with Kate until the Police woman arrived. Fraser ran back to see that George was now on a stretcher, and the paramedics were gently lifting him into the Ambulance. He turned to thank the young woman. She had written her name and address on a piece of paper. ‘Just in case you want to contact me,’ she said. ‘I saw the whole thing happen.’ Fraser tried to thank her but choked over his words. She smiled reassuringly, and he got into the Ambulance.

The hospital staff swung into action. George, hooked up to tubes, was hurried into the theatre, and Fraser was shown into a small waiting room. The police officer arrived, sat down with him, and took out his notebook.

‘What about the parents? Where are they?’

Fraser groaned. ‘It’s my daughter and son-in-law,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how to tell them. They entrusted the twins to me for the day, and look what’s happened! I’ve failed them miserably! I can’t face telling them, but I must.’

‘We could do that for you, sir, if you like. That might be better – we can give them details of exactly where the hospital is, and where Kate is. Would you like us to do that?’

‘I suppose so. I don’t know what to say. I feel so dreadful. I’ll never forgive myself.’

‘Look, sir, children do this sort of thing. No matter how often you tell them they still run into the road – I’ve seen it happen many times before. You mustn’t blame yourself.’

‘Oh but I do, and I must. I was responsible for George! I wonder how long it will be before there’s any news?’
‘I’m sure they’ll tell you as soon as they can. Now, sir, I’m going to get them to bring you a strong cup of tea, and I’ll make the phone calls. Just give me the names and telephone numbers.’

He went off, and a kind nurse appeared with the tea. Mechanically Fraser took it, and then put it down. The nurse encouraged him to drink it, saying it was good for shock.

That’s it, thought Fraser. I’ve had a dreadful shock. I don’t know how I’ll ever get over it. My poor little Kate, poor Sarah and Michael. Oh my dear little George. He put his head into his hands and sat there, trying to endure the agonising pain.

The police officer came back. He told Fraser that he had spoken to the boy’s mother.

‘Was she dreadfully upset?’ asked Fraser.

The officer hesitated. It would certainly be better not to report the mother’s original hysterical reaction to this Grandfather who, anyone could see, was desperately worried. ‘She was obviously shaken,’ he said, ‘but she was able to think clearly about what she needed to do. She’s going to try and contact her husband, so that they can come down together, but if she can’t, she’ll get her colleague to accompany her. She realises it would be preferable for her not to drive down by herself.’

Fraser nodded dumbly. The officer left him, and he settled down to wait for news. Suddenly he knew what he wanted to do. He went outside, and turning on his mobile phone, pressed Angela’s number. To his astonishment, she responded.

‘Fraser! Is everything all right?’

‘No, I’m afraid it’s not – it’s terrible. Look, can you talk? Is this a good moment?’

‘Actually it’s a very good one – we’ve come out for a break, and I’d just turned on the phone to see if there were any messages. What’s happened?’

Stumbling through the words, his voice breaking, Fraser conveyed briefly what had taken place.

Her deep, warm voice coming down the airwaves, brought an immense feeling of relief, even if only temporarily. ‘Oh, you poor, poor man. I am so sorry. What you must be going through! Oh, Fraser.’