#Just one night only, stay with me - you’ll find the water’s fine’.
The second verse the girl decides in her deep despair to go to a bar where she finds someone as lonely as she - so decides to pluck up the courage to try to persuade him to talk with her.
She then discovers he has also been rejected, but as lonely as he is he is very wary of getting involved with someone else so soon.
Each chorus line - ‘has any girl been so lonely for a hundred - a thousand - a million - a billion years’.
By the fourth verse she is begging him to relieve their loneliness together. With each chorus, building stronger and louder each time it is sung, she begins by timidly asking him to help her combat their fears. The song finishes with a crescendo of frantic, passionate pleas for him to have mercy on her – by DEMANDING he make love with her – ‘for just this one night only’.
As the lyrics of the song raced around inside my head I could fully appreciate the devastation the girl was in and wept uncontrollably in Rachel’s embrace as she silently sobbed in my arms.
I pulled Rachel’s naked body to me and held her tightly throughout the long night with no thought of intercourse entering my head.
It felt so good just to lie there motionless hugging and softly kissing her as she gave me the comfort I so desperately needed until sleep came upon us.
I couldn’t bring myself to spoil the magic by making love with her - It seemed, somehow, inappropriate.
This true enchantment, however, was spoiled at 7 a.m. when we were woken as my radio clicked on.
Rachel rolled from me in an effort to switch it off before the news began, as she knew it would be dominated with yesterday’s tragedy.
I stopped her as she sat up as I wanted to hear the ‘official’ summary of how Tracey died to try to fathom why she was on the motorway on a Wednesday.
As Rachel turned around, to ask me if I was sure that I wanted to hear the news, I beheld her magnificent, naked body for the first time as I rested my hand tenderly upon her thigh.
Although I had previously lusted after Rachel and felt extremely excited at the prospect of us ‘getting together’ while winding Tracey up I now regarded her with overpowering love and deep respect for what she did for me throughout the long night.
Rachel retrieved her dressing gown from the floor and slowly wrapped it around her, in silence, while the announcer read the news bulletin.
“Police are still trying to piece together the circumstances surrounding what caused yesterday evening’s smash on the M8 motorway, one mile east of Harthill Services, where seven people died and twelve others were injured.”
We held hands for several minutes as they played recordings of some ‘eyewitnesses’ and police and Fire Brigade reports then moved onto the other events around the world.
Rachel tenderly kissed me again and slowly moved towards the door gingerly opening it hoping no-one would see her leaping the few yards between our rooms.
“Rachel,” I whispered to break the icy silence before she flew away,
“I really appreciate what you did for me last night.”
“Nonsense,” she whispered, “We didn’t do anything.”
“Rachel,” I assured her, “You did a lot for me last night.
You gave yourself to me as a friend rather than a stand-in lover.
I will always be grateful to you for being here when I needed a friend.
Rachel, you are truly a Diamond.”
She turned her gaze from the hallway to me and smiled.
“You gave me something last night too,” she whispered,
“When I’m on stage singing all these love songs I put a lot of feeling into each one although I rarely felt that I knew what I was singing about.
Angel has often told me something was missing from ‘Abandon ship’ but none of us had any idea what that missing ‘something’ was.
Last night I really knew what that girl was going through and can use these emotions to help enhance my future performance.
Perhaps you have given me that ‘special something’ that I could never get from Melanie. Thanks Brian.”
“No Rachel,” I interrupted, “thank-you. Now, abandon ship.”
With a wink she blew a kiss as she opened the door to leave me with the inner strength I needed to make it through today.
Thursday 30th July.
I lay for a few minutes wondering what I should do - as I had made my mind up I wouldn’t be going into the office today.
I resolved to go to see Tony and Catherine, Tracey’s parents, to find out if they knew why Tracey had been coming to Edinburgh last night.
The girls were all surprised to see me at breakfast as usual this morning although they were all strangely quiet until the eight o’clock news came on the radio when Debbie jumped up to turn it off.
“No Debbie,” I called, “Leave it on.”
We all listened in silence as the newsreader repeated the earlier bulletin, but this time he read out the names of the dead and injured. When he read “Tracey Collins from Glasgow” Jaclyn squeezed my hand until the phone rang and she got up to answer it.
Returning a few moments later saying, “Brian, that’s your father for you.”
Clearing my bowl I said, “Before I get down to business today I must thank all you girls for the tremendous help and support you gave me last night.”
They all modestly dismissed their help as ‘the least they could do’.
“No girls. I really appreciate your sympathies.”
“Now, Jaclyn can you tell Sarah that I won’t be in today - tell her I’ll call her later?” She nodded.
“Marcie, can you check what arrangements need to be made at the hospital?”
“Consider it done” she replied.
“And once again all of you thank-you. I couldn’t ask for better friends than you guys.”
I left them in silence and went to pick up the ‘phone.
“Hi.” I said as cheerily as I could into the receiver.
“Brian,” Dad solemnly began, “We’ve just heard the news.
We can’t believe what has happened, son. We’re all very sorry.”
I could hear his voice begin to break up as he spoke.
“We saw what happened on the nine o’clock news last night, but we didn’t recognise Tracey until I heard her name on the radio just now.”
In my entire twenty-eight years I had never seen my father with anything but a smile on his face so to prevent my high regard for him being shattered by hearing him weeping I cheerily said.
“Dad, don’t start me off again. I’ll call by later.”
“Okay,” he replied and hung up.
I immediately dialled Tony’s number and while it rang for quite a long time each of the girls hugged me as they made their way out the door - especially Rachel who asked me if I needed someone to drive me around today.
“The only way you could drive me,” I whispered passionately, “Is crazy with desire.”
A sudden wild passion came to her brown eyes as she let her briefcase fall to the floor with a thud and pressing her highly desirable body against me forced me against the alcove in the wall.
It seems I had awakened something in Rachel last night that she had never felt before and was finding it difficult to control.
She threw her arms around me kissing me for a second or two until I, reluctantly, stopped her.
“No Rachel,” I whispered forcefully, “What you did last night was more than enough.”
Rachel broke away from me apologising whilst regaining her dignity.
“Don’t ever be sorry,” I assured her softly as I tenderly gathered her into my embrace again. “Unlike the girl from ‘Abandon ship’ you didn’t take advantage of me and I thank-you and applaud you for that.”
“You didn’t take advantage of me either.” she softly replied with more than a hint of disappointment in her voice.
“It wouldn’t have been right,” I assured her, “fo
r either of us.”
With severe doubts she nodded as she picked up her briefcase and tearfully exited, deep in thought, just as I heard Tony’s quivering voice say “Hello?”
“Tony, its Brian here, is there anything I can do for you today?”
I asked sympathetically.
“I don’t know.” he replied obviously still in deep shock.
“I’ll call round sometime this morning, okay.”
“Okay son.” he confirmed as he broke down and resumed crying as I slowly hung up.
Collecting my jacket from behind the door I left for the drive to Glasgow.
I was in two minds whether I should take the M8 or the A71 - knowing that the motorway, although open, would be severely congested near Harthill - I wondered if I could pass the spot where Tracey was killed without breaking up.
I decided to go for it and take that risk.
I had to find out if Tony knew why she had been there.
In order to avoid the relentless radio reports I located the ‘Diamonds’ tape Rachel had given me and played it, as the signposts counted down the miles to the service area while Rachel’s angelic singing kept my mind off my mission.
As I approached Harthill the traffic became increasingly congested as the police had completely closed off the eastbound carriageway and had a contraflow on the westbound section. A multitude of police cars and service vehicles littered the entire route as the traffic almost halted at the spot where the accident had happened.
The service people had obviously been working throughout the night to clear the wreckage and amongst the mangled line of cars waiting to be transported away I saw Tracey’s white Micra.
Pulling over onto the hard shoulder I took a long look at it.
The entire front of the car was unrecognisable; as the engine compartment had concertinaed into the front seats so I figured Tracey must have been travelling at quite a high speed to sustain this amount of damage to her engine.
‘Whatever she hit must have been almost stationary’. I thought.
The rear of her car was unmarked, which puzzled me as it had been at the centre of the pile-up from what I had seen on the television last night?
I surveyed the scene for a few minutes until brought back to life with a start as a police siren sounded at my rear. I looked in my mirror to see Nicola Braid and her male colleague behind me ordering me to move along, but I couldn’t find the strength to put my car into gear for some strange reason.
Nicola got out of her car and knocked on my passenger door until I let the catch up.
“Have you broken down sir?” Then she recognised me and said softly. “Oh. It’s you, what are you doing here?”
I took a deep breath and sighed.
“The girl killed in the white Micra was my fiancée.”
“Oh no Brian,” she said softly crouching down, “I’m really sorry to hear that, but I’m afraid you can’t stop here. Would you like me to drive you to the service area and get you a cup of tea?”
“No thanks Nicola. I’ll be okay in a little while.”
“Okay.” she said getting into my car.
“What are you doing?” I asked confused.
“Stop at Harthill.” she ordered pulling the seatbelt around her.
“I’m really okay.” I protested as I put the car into gear and slowly drove along the hard-shoulder past the slow stream of traffic followed by the police car with all its lights flashing.
The service area was very busy today and had an unusually high number of police cars, fire tenders, and service vehicles in the car park in front of the cafeteria.
“I really don’t want a cup of tea, Nicola.” I assured her as we got out of the car.
“Well,” she snapped quietly, “I could certainly do with one.”
Nicola led me by the arm to an empty table inside the cafeteria and instructed her colleague to get me a cup of tea as she sat me down looking about her at the other tables, most of which were occupied by police, fire-fighters and motorway repair crew.
“Brian,” she said softly, “Wait here a moment.”
“Sure.” I answered as she hurried to a circle of police officers and spoke to one who was hidden from my view by his colleagues.
Then I heard a familiar voice cry out, “Oh my God!” as PC Kelly came over to me, followed by Nicola, and he sighed;
“I knew I’d seen that girl somewhere before.”
“Brian,” he sighed sitting opposite me, “I’m really very sorry.
I knew I recognised her but why I didn’t instantly think of you I’ll never know.”
He stopped as Nicola’s partner placed cups of tea by Nicola and me before joining the table of police officers. “Thanks Jeff.” they said in unison.
“Gerard, tell me,” I pleaded, “What happened out there yesterday?”
“We still don’t know,” he replied, “and I’m not allowed to give my opinion.”
I asked quietly. “Tell me ‘unofficially’ what happened?”
“Well,” he began, “by my reckoning” - he looked around him to see if any of his superiors were near us.
“A lorry travelling in the middle lane had a blow-out and slammed on his ‘anchors’. Several cars speeding behind him braked and ran into one another.”
I figured the explanation was feasible and matched up with the ‘eyewitness’ reports from the radio.
“But, Gerard,” I was still confused, ”The rear of Tracey’s car was undamaged.”
“Yes,” he continued, using his fists to simulate cars as he spoke.
“I figure she hit another car straight on at high speed and spun around on the rebound and then the car behind her smashed into her - spinning her sideways into other cars.”
“I’m really sorry Brian, but it was probably the force of the engine being battered twice into the front seats that would have killed her instantly.
I’m very sorry Brian.” Kelly placed one hand over mine upon the table.
“Thanks Gerard.” I whispered sipping my tea calmly.
“Now all I have to figure out is why the hell she was there in the first place.”
“Did she not come to visit you regularly?” Nicola asked.
“Only at the weekend,” I replied, “She’s never come midweek before.”
I finished my tea thanking them for their sympathy.
“I must go to Glasgow and ask her father if he knows why she was on her way to Edinburgh.”
Thanking them again I resumed my journey to Tony’s house trying to find an answer to my question.
When I arrived at Tony’s there were a few newspaper reporters sitting on the wall who rushed to me with notebooks in hand once they realised I intended to enter the gate.
They all fired questions at me, which I ignored.
“Are you family?” “Were you a friend of the girl?” “How do you feel about what happened?”
They almost followed me to the front door before I turned and ordered them to get out of the garden to which they reluctantly complied.
I rang the doorbell and turned to see a police car pull up and two officers, pursued by the reporters, came up the path.
“Morning sir.” one officer said as he reached me.
“Morning.” I replied as the reporters crowded around hoping for information.
“Excuse me officers,” I asked getting annoyed by the pressmen,
“If any of these guys come into the garden again would you arrest them for trespassing?”
“We certainly will,” one said turning to the disappointed journalists.
“You heard the gentleman. Come on. Get out of the garden, please.”
They complied reluctantly retreating to the wall as the policeman rang the doorbell and said quietly “They’re only doing their jobs sir and anyway there is no law of trespass in Scotland.”
“I know.” I assured them as a muffled creaky voice from behind the closed door asked, “Who is it?”
“It’s Brian,”
I announced, “and there are some policemen here.”
The door slowly opened by a very distraught Tony, so I entered and hugged him for a few seconds. “Where’s Catherine?”
He pointed towards the living room and I made my way to comfort her while the police officers introduced themselves to Tony.
I couldn’t find any words to comfort Tracey’s mother as I hugged her so I just kissed her cheek to show her that I cared as Tony, followed by the policemen, entered and sat down.
“Mr. and Mrs. Collins,” one of the officers began, “we realise that this is a particularly distressing time for you and we would like to offer our sincere condolences to you both for your tragic loss.
There are however a few details that need to be sorted out sooner rather than later.
We will try to make this as brief and as painless as possible for you.” He continued slowly.
“Your daughter, Tracey, has been informally identified by a member of staff of Edinburgh General Hospital where she was found to be dead on arrival yesterday evening.
Following a post-mortem examination she will be returned to you shortly.
Now, firstly, do you require to satisfy yourselves that the deceased is your daughter by formally identifying her yourselves?”
“I don’t know,” Tony quivered, “I shouldn’t think so, we saw her on the TV news, but who identified her?”
The policeman examined his notes answering.
“Marisa Willis, a nursing sister at the hospital.”
Tony looked confused, as he had obviously never heard the name before.
“She’s one of my friends, Tony.” I reassured him.
“Did your daughter regularly travel the motorway?”
“She regularly visited me in Edinburgh,” I answered him, “but only at weekends.”
“You are, sir?” the officer asked.
“I’m Brian, her fiancé, we were due to marry in September.”
I gave them my business card confirming my name, Dad’s address, and contact details.
“Last question,” the officer concluded, “There will be a fatal accident enquiry later so we’ll probably have to speak to all of you later on.
Is there anyone we can contact for you or anything further we can do for you?”
Tony shrugged his shoulders and looked totally numbed by the whole experience, so I answered, “Can we sort out all the details later?”
The policemen nodded offering their sympathies again and showed themselves out leaving a few leaflets of charities that could help Tony and Catherine come to terms with their loss.
“Why?” Catherine kept moaning, ”Our little Tracey?”
I massaged her shoulders as I asked, “That’s what’s baffling me?”
“I spoke to Tracey on the phone yesterday lunchtime and she didn’t say she was coming through to see me. Do either of you know why?”
They both shook their heads before Catherine sniffed and cried,
“She sounded so happy when she phoned to say she wouldn’t be coming home for dinner.”
As she spoke the doorbell rang and I went to answer it to find an elderly bearded gentleman dressed in a light grey suit standing very solemnly on the doorstep.
“Hello, I’m Doctor Boswell,” he said, “the family practitioner.”
“You’d better come in.” I held the door open for him.
When I had closed the door I returned to the living room to find the Doctor giving Catherine a few pills to sedate her while asking Tony if he wanted anything.
“Shall I make a pot of tea?” I asked intending to make one anyway.
As I stood at the door the Doctor suddenly covered his face with his hands and wept into them, which disturbed me greatly.
“I’ll get you one too sir.” I said.
“No!” he cried, “I am responsible for all this.”
We all looked at the Doctor as he wiped his eyes and sobbed.
“If I hadn’t phoned her yesterday she would be alive today.”
“Whatever do you mean sir?” I asked him before Tony could speak.
“You must be Brian?” he asked.
“Yes sir.”
“I’m so sorry,” he wept covering his eyes again.
I sat on the sofa arm as Doctor Boswell composed himself enough to sob, “Tracey came to see me on Monday for a routine check-up.
She said she had been feeling a little dizzy so I did all the usual tests and found nothing.
I sent a blood and urine sample to the medical labs for further analysis.”
He stretched his hand out to squeeze Catherine’s arm as he continued.
“The lab called me yesterday afternoon with what they found, so I immediately called Tracey at her office to tell her the news.”
“What news?” Tony asked as the Doctor wiped his eyes again holding Catherine’s arm.
“I am really sorry to tell you this, but the lab told me that Tracey was…” he took a deep sigh and wept, “Tracey was six weeks pregnant.”
Tony and Catherine became hysterical at the news of not only losing their only child, but also an unborn grandchild, and although Doctor Boswell gave them sedatives to numb them they did not help.
I was not helped either by the fact that the mystery was now solved.
Tracey would have been ecstatic at being told she was finally pregnant she couldn’t wait to get to me and tell me first.
If she had phoned or waited until Friday all would have been well.
I was so numb all over that I couldn’t even cry.
I just sat motionless until the ‘phone rang.
“Hello.” I heard my Mum say quietly.
“Hi,” I sighed.
“Oh you’re there, son. Is there anything I can do for anybody?”
“Mum,” I croaked, “Tracey was pregnant.”
“Oh my God.” I heard her wail as she put the ‘phone down.
Ten minutes later she appeared at the front door and we hugged tightly.
“Will you look after Tony and Catherine?” I asked her.
“Of course I will.” she replied turning to enter the lounge.
I made my way to my car pursued by the reporters who I completely ignored.
I didn’t have a clue where I was driving to - I just had to get out and be alone in my grief.
I drove around, blinded by tears, until I eventually stopped in the Hareshaw Forest where Tracey and I used to meet in the dead of night to make love in my car by moonlight.
I sat for about two hours and cried until I had no more tears left to shed.
I lit a cigarette, turned my cassette player on and heard Rachel singing ‘Abandon Ship’, which reminded me of our strange enchanted evening together.
When the song was finished I pressed the button to eject the tape and heard the disc Jockey in mid-flow saying,
“Now here’s a new release I must play for you.
It is from ‘Diamonds’ - a group of six young girls from Edinburgh.
This is their debut single, which I reckon is going to be a big hit for them. Entitled ‘Baby - You’re an Angel’.
I know you’re going to love this.”
I was about to turn it off when I recalled Rachel’s happiness and the song reminded me of happier times with Debbie, Melanie, Marcie, Rachel, Diamonds and, oddly enough, Lynda.
I began to smile again.
The song seemed to give me the courage I desperately needed to guide me through the next few strenuous, despairing, days.
As I passed Harthill on my way home the wrecked cars had already been removed and it seemed as though my memories of Tracey were taken away also.
As soon as I reached home I ‘phoned Dad, Sarah, Tony, and Marcie to check what was happening and to find out if anyone knew any more than I did - which didn’t amount to much.
I came off the ‘phone at four-thirty and, as instructed by Marcie, began to prepare the evening meal and although I would never class myself as an expert cook made a pre
tty nice job of fish fingers, chips and beans for six people.
Each of the girls, as they arrived home, greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and asked me if I was okay to which I answered I was fine.
Rachel, as usual, was in a rush and gulped down her meal while Marcie again scolded her for doing so.
“By the way Rachel,” I tried to lighten the mood, “I heard ‘Baby - You’re an Angel’ on the radio today.”
“Fantastic!” she replied, “It is due for release next Monday so we’re all hoping it’ll sell well.” She cleared her plate and made for the door. “I’ve no time to waste - my public waits.”
“That’s showbiz.” I called after her.
After tea Lynda donned her ‘battle gear’, which consisted of a black leather mini-skirt and a small-elasticised top, which just covered her breasts, and her modesty, and left nothing to the imagination as she set off on another crusade of drunken debauchery.
Jaclyn disappeared very early as she prepared for another night ‘on the town’ with Sarah who, rather unusually, didn’t come to the door for her. Instead she waited outside in her father’s car until Jaclyn went out to meet her.
Debbie declined Jaclyn’s offer to join them, and sat quietly before the television until ten o’clock when I decided to retire and fell into a very restless sleep from which I awoke around midnight and decided I needed to talk to Marcie for peace of mind.
Wrapping my dressing gown around me I made my way to the living room to find it a vacant darkness so I lightly rapped Marcie’s bedroom door.
“Hello,” I heard her faintly utter as I opened the door a few inches.
“Hello, it’s me. May I have a quick word with you?”
“Wait a minute.” Marcie whispered as in the darkness I heard bedclothes rustle for a few moments before she quietly permitted me to enter.
The room was in complete darkness as I closed the door behind me so, after asking her permission, I turned the light dimmer switch by the door slightly to light my way to sit at the side of her massive bed.
I found Marcie, obviously naked, leaning against her headboard with her knees drawn up under her. She was covered in a white cotton sheet wrapped loosely around her to cover her charms, which, in the dimness, were fairly visible beneath.
“Marcie,” I began whispering, “I can’t get to sleep.”
“Would you like something to help?” she asked.
“No thanks,” declining any drugs she may have, “I need to talk with you.”
She sighed, “That’s what I’m here for.”
Marcie patted the edge of the bed urging me to sit while making sure her sheet completely covered her nakedness.
I sat and paused as I drew my bare legs up beneath me and leaned on my arm.
“I found out why Tracey was coming to see me last night.
Tracey was coming last night to tell me her doctor had just ‘phoned to confirm… she was six weeks pregnant.”
Marcie clasped her hand to her mouth gasping in shock “Oh no.” with tears coming to her crystal-blue eyes, “then I’m responsible.”
“No,” I interrupted, “Nobody’s responsible.
Tracey was so happy she couldn’t ‘phone me or wait until Friday to tell me.
She decided to come and surprise me and, unfortunately, ran into an accident.”
Marcie let out a long sigh and pulling me to her we wept and hugged for several minutes until we heard the front door bang.
“That’ll be Jaclyn home,” she sobbed, “you’d better go.”
Nodding I kissed her and quietly rolling from her bed I adjusted my robe and prepared to go to my own room leaving Marcie in tears. “Thanks Marcie,” I whispered, “for everything.”