‘My face?’ sighed Erika. Even this short conversation was tiring her out.
‘The airbag in the car broke your nose, and six of your ribs… They thought you’d fractured a cheek, but it’s bad bruising.’
Erika put her head back against the pillow. She wanted to ask more but exhaustion rolled over her again and she closed her eyes and slept.
*
Erika didn’t come back to full consciousness for another week. Her sister had been a constant presence at her bedside. Erika didn’t know how much time had passed, but she noticed her sister wore something different every time she opened her eyes. It was on this particular afternoon that she was awake when the doctor was doing his rounds, and she was pleased to hear that she was healing well, but it would be a long road to recovery.
‘How long have you been here in England?’ asked Erika.
‘Two weeks. We’re staying at your house. Marek is here too. The kids are with his mother back in Slovakia,’ said Lenka.
‘What’s Marek doing?’
‘He loves your cat, and he’s been fixing things up a bit.’
Erika sighed and winced at the pain in her ribs.
‘He better not be painting my walls green or orange,’ she said.
‘What’s wrong with green and orange?’ asked Lenka, defensively. ‘Anyway. Igor is helping him.’
Erika sighed.
‘You’ve met Igor?’
‘Yes. I remember him from before, very handsome. His sister still lives in Nitra, I know her a little bit. Is it serious?’
‘Lenka, this is serious,’ said Erika, indicating the bed and the wires in her arms. ‘What’s happening with my case?’
‘Your colleagues are coming later today. You never told me you worked with someone whose name was Kate Moss!’
Erika smiled; she wanted to see a familiar face from her life in London. Having her sister here was too surreal.
Later that afternoon, Moss and Peterson came to visit. The looks on both of their faces made Erika scared.
‘Hello, Boss,’ said Moss. She had with her a big bunch of flowers which Lenka put on the corner on a small table. ‘You’ve got a private room. Fancy.’
‘Hey Erika,’ said Peterson. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, and she saw the concern on his face as he came close.
‘I’m not dying,’ she said.
‘Of course not,’ said Moss. ‘We just, we’re just…’
‘Concerned,’ finished Peterson. ‘We saw the aftermath of the crash.’
‘I didn’t do it,’ said Erika, as the memory of what happened came flooding back, and she suddenly felt deep distress and panic. ‘I wasn’t driving. He put me in the car. Made me take a load of painkillers. It’s Colin! It was him!’
‘It’s okay,’ said Moss. ‘We got him. He’s in custody. He’s been charged with the murders of Sophia and Vicky, Cilla Stone… And the attempted… Attempting to kill you.’
Erika lay back and felt a small amount of relief.
‘Was anyone else hurt in the crash?’
‘No,’ said Peterson. ‘You should see the photos.’ Moss shot him a look.
‘Have you got them, the photos?’ asked Erika.
‘You don’t need to see them,’ said Moss.
‘No. I want to.’
Peterson looked at Moss, got out his phone, scrolled through and held the screen up for her to see.
In the photo, Erika’s car was a twisted wreck, smashed into the back of a small Porsche, which had come off even worse. Her windscreen had been obliterated, and there was glass everywhere. The photo had been taken facing the hill up to Colin’s house, and you could see the path of carnage; on the road directly in front of the car park, a police officer was directing the traffic into a single clear lane. The second lane was blocked by a three-car accident, where a grey SUV had a blue Smart car buried in the back of it, and an ancient yellow Sierra had smashed into the back of the Smart car. Another ambulance was dealing with the three drivers, who looked dazed and bloody, but they were all standing by the road and staring open-mouthed at the ploughed-up flowerbeds.
‘I can’t believe I survived that,’ said Erika in a small voice, the shock of seeing it hitting home.
Peterson scrolled through his phone. ‘This one might make you feel better,’ he said. It was a screenshot from the BBC News website with the headline:
SOUTH LONDON TEACHER ARRESTED FOR MURDER AND HISTORICAL SEX ASSAULTS ON STUDENTS