"My girlfriend's just ... well, she keeps being terribly sick. She's in a bad way. I wonder if you could-"

"I understand you're a doctor."

"Yes, that's correct. But-"

"A lady here ... we're rather afraid she's having a heart attack. She has angina; I wonder if you could-"

Jesus, Jonathan thought, exhausted now, desperate for some reprieve-what would they all have done if he hadn't been there ...?

"Miss. Miss, can you help me, miss?"

Abi felt terribly sick; she would have given anything for a drink of water, but felt that if anyone should be thirsty, anyone should suffer, she should.

She tried to smile at the little boy.

"What's the matter?"

His eyes were big and scared as he looked at her.

"I think I'm going to have an asthma attack, miss, and I haven't got no inhaler with me. It was in me"-he paused, clearly breathless-"in me rucksack, miss.

"Oh, Oh, I see."

"And I'm ever so thirsty, miss."

"Me too, miss," said the boy next to him, and then another and another.

"Well, look, I haven't got any water, I'm afraid. But I can go and ask in some of the other cars. Now, you, Master Asthma ..."

The little boy managed to smile at her.

"Yes, miss?"

"I can't do anything about your inhaler yet. I'm sorry. But when Jon-the doctor-comes back next time-he's the man who got you out of the bus-I'll see if he might have one."

"All right, miss. But me chest feels well tight. I get it really bad, sometimes have to go to the hospital." And he burst into tears.

"Oh, don't be scared," Abi said, and she sat down beside him, put her arms round him. "Very soon now the ambulances will be here and they'll have inhalers, I'm sure. So you've just got to hang on a bit longer. What's your name?"

"Shaun, miss."

"Right, Shaun. Well, do you know when I was your age, I had asthma. If I got an attack and I didn't have my inhaler, I used to do breathing exercises. Shall we try? Not too deep, just nice, even, slow breaths. That's right. I'll do it with you. While I'm counting. Ready-"

Shaun fixed his large blue eyes trustingly on her and, after about ten breaths, said, sounding more breathless still, "It's not helping, miss. I'm that wheezy." And he started to cry again.

"Oh, God." Abi looked round. The heat was awful, the sun relentless, and the air close and stifling. There was an odd smell, at once sickly and sour; they might not have been outside at all, and indeed the air itself was thick, hazy, cloudy with traffic fumes. This wouldn't be helping. She saw Jonathan walking towards them, waved at him to come over.

"You haven't got an inhaler with you, have you? For asthma?"

"No, of course not," he said tersely. "I'm not a walking pharmacy."

"No. No, I realise that. But Shaun here's getting an asthma attack, and I wondered ... I just thought you might-"

"Well, you thought wrong, and I have more serious concerns than a bloody asthma attack. The driver's bleeding to death in that truck, and the bloody medics-Oh, here they are, thank Christ-this way, please, quickly."

"I can't help it, miss," said Shaun. "Why was he cross?"

"He's just very ... very worried," said Abi, looking after Jonathan as he directed the ambulance men towards the truck. "He's not cross."

"My mum always says that about my dad, when he gets cross," said another of the little boys. "Says he's upset, not to take no notice."

There was a general chorus of recognition at this scenario; Abi looked at them and smiled for the first time. Distracting them was clearly the best thing she could do.

"Why don't you all tell me your names?" she said. "Just first names. I'm called Abi, short for Abigail."

"That's a nice name," said Shaun carefully. His breathing was very quick and shallow, and speaking was clearly difficult.

They all told her their names, then where they lived, what they liked doing, what their mums were called. Almost cheerful. And then- "I'm so thirsty, miss. I got to have a drink; can you get us one, miss?"

The others all joined in. A couple were crying, saying they'd never felt so thirsty, not ever. Abi looked round desperately. She felt like crying herself. Had any of this been Jonathan's fault? He'd been on the phone; had he lost control? Had she distracted him? Abi, don't, don't go down there Abi, don't, don't go down there. It had been an accident, that was all, a terrible, awful accident. Concentrate on water, water ... Concentrate on water, water ... How on earth was she going to find some water? How on earth was she going to find some water?

William was working his way down the field, skirting round a small spinney of young trees, carrying his containers, when he saw her: a young girl, very pretty, very dark, with wild black hair, stumbling along just above the ditch. She was crying silently.

"Hello, can I help? Are you involved in the crash; is someone with you hurt?"

She stared at him, her dark eyes filled with panic; then she shook her head and moved on, trying to run away from him through the long, uneven grass.

William shrugged and continued on his journey. She seemed all right-not hurt, anyway. He could see more pressing claims on his attention. Odd, though; but then, this was a very odd day.

The little boys' distress and thirst were growing. Abi began to feel panicky. She mustn't panic; it would be fatal-it would spread. She saw a woman walking towards her with a golden retriever, and pointed him out to the boys by way of distraction; they crowded round, stroking him, asking the woman what his name was.

"Jasper."

"That's me brother's name," said Shaun. "My mum's boyfriend says it's a poof's name."

"Oh, really?" said Abi, smiling at the woman. She didn't smile back; indeed, she glared at Shaun. "I don't suppose you've got any water?" Abi said. "By any amazing chance?"

"If I had any I'd give it to this poor fellow," the woman said firmly. "He's beside himself. We're going to try in the woods."

"OK," said Abi carefully, "fine."

"But I need a drink!" One of the biggest boys was getting angry now. "I really, really need one. I'll die if I don't. We all will."

"No, you won't," said Abi. "People can live for quite a long time without water; you'd be surprised. However thirsty you are."

"But, miss-"

How on earth could she get them a drink? How could normal life have disappeared so swiftly?

And then: "Need any help?" said a voice. And like some kind of divine visitation came a man, very tanned, with brown, rather shaggy hair, wearing baggy-and filthy-jeans, a checked shirt that had clearly left the shop many years earlier, and some very heavy dusty boots. And he was carrying-yes, he was actually carrying two very large plastic containers. Containing- "Oh, my God!" said Abi. "Water! How amazing. Can't be true."

"It certainly is. Was last time I looked, anyway." He grinned at her; he had the widest, sweetest grin she had ever seen. She smiled back.

"And I've even got some paper cups. Here, kids. Careful, one at a time-you'll knock it over if you're not careful. That's better." He held out a cup to Abi. "You want some?"

"No, no," she said, "they really need it."

"So do you, by the look of you. That's a horrible cut on your head. How did you do that?"

"Oh, I hit it as we stopped. It was pretty sudden."

"Yeah? It looks nasty. Here, take a cup. Let me-"

"Could I have some of that? For the dog; he's desperate. I've got a container-here, look."

It was the woman Abi had approached earlier.

"Oh, I don't think so," said the young man. "There're a lot of people here in terrible need. Sorry about the dog, but he'll be OK. Get him into the shade; I would-Hello, young chap," he said to a toddler clinging to his father's hand. "Need some water? Here we are."

He stood there on the roadside doling out his precious water, cup by cup, firmly refusing second comers.

"Just for now it's got to be one cup per person Not fair otherwise. Only person who can have two is Shaun here, because he's not very well."

"Where did you come from, then?" said Abi, looking at him in a kind of wonder.

"I live in a farm, just behind the hill there. The chopper's on our land. I saw it happen, actually." His voice was very quiet, rather slow, surprisingly posh. You didn't expect farmers to be posh. "I was standing up there with the cows, just moved them, and there it was, everything breaking up. Or seeming to be."

"Yes? So what ... what happened exactly? Do you think?"

"Well, the lorry just swerved, really hard, and went through the barrier. No apparent reason. And then the load just ... well, it was as if it had burst, came out of the doors at the back, the sides, out the top even-did you see any of it?"

"Not-not really. I ... We were just ahead of the ... of it all."

"Scary, isn't it? Terrible things, accidents. One minute everything's perfectly fine, under control, the next ... well, it's not. Lives ruined, all these people hurt through no fault of their own. Through nobody's fault, really."

"Yes. Terrible." She smiled at him and sipped the water, the cool, wonderful water. She ought to get some to Jonathan, really.

Mary looked across at Colin; he was sitting on the bonnet of the car, lighting yet another cigarette. That was his sixth since the accident. Not that it mattered, and it was probably helping him, but she wished she could do something so simple that would make her feel better. She felt terrible, sick and exhausted, her neck and her head very painful. Colin had found her some painkillers, but they hadn't really taken the edge off the pain.

The people in the car behind, Janet and John Brown, which had rammed into her, were being very kind too. The driver, a man, had hurt his wrist very badly, but apart from that they were fine.

They had produced a rug from the car, some picnic chairs and a thermos, sat Mary down, given her a cup of tea. Which had been very welcome, but if she'd thought a bit longer, she would have refused it. It had gone straight through her ...

She looked at her watch: nearly five. Just an hour until Russell's plane landed. Obviously now she couldn't possibly get there. What would he think; what could she do ...? Keep calm, Mary, keep calm Keep calm, Mary, keep calm.

She was desperate now to go to the lavatory. She wondered if she could enlist Janet Brown's help, ask her to hold up the blanket, perhaps, but decided she didn't know her well enough.

Her bladder stabbed at her; it was agony. And something else stabbed at her: the horribly familiar sense of squeezing pressure on her chest that signalled an attack of angina.

She felt absolutely terrified suddenly. For her nitrate spray was in the crumpled boot of the car ...

Mary began to cry.

CHAPTER 12

Gradually order was being restored: two fire crews were still working on their grim tasks, but most of the casualties had been driven away in ambulances. Robbie followed Greg as he strode amongst the wreckage on the motorway alternately talking into his radio, informing the AA and the RAC and local radio stations, taking witnesses' names and addresses, waving their cars over for inspection, and talking to the people who were stranded.

Mostly they wanted to know when they might get away; whether they could move their cars, whether the police could help with water and, as the time wore on, food.

One woman started shouting at them, demanding water; but on the whole they were pretty calm and cooperative. Greg was calm too, reassuring them that it shouldn't be too much longer now before they could start clearing the cars, directing them to the police car that had arrived with a huge supply of water, offering the use of his and Robbie's mobiles where essential.

Their task now that the worst was over-although the poor sod in the lorry was still being cut free-was to keep the scene as far as possible intact until the investigation unit arrived. Measurements and photographs had to be taken, a plan of the scene, complete with details of the debris, the exact location and direction of skid marks. Only when that was completed would they begin to get the cars out. Fortunately, the road into London was more or less clear now, but two lanes were still being used for the emergency services. There were a few cars on the hard shoulder, the doctor's-great bloke he was, fantastic help-and a rather nice middle-aged couple who'd walked back about two hundred yards: the only ones who had stopped-incredible it was, really-to see if they could do anything.

There'd been a drama with some girl who'd gone into labour. Robbie had been told to stay with her and the husband until they were safely on their way. He hadn't liked that too much. She'd been in considerable pain, alternately moaning and panting like a dog.

"I don't want to have it here," she said, gripping her husband's hand. "I'm so scared."

"No need for that," Robbie said, hoping it was true. "And listen-I think ... yes, I can hear it now, an ambulance, here it comes now ... I'll just flag it down, make sure it stops ... yes. Good. Right. Over here, quickly, please," he called to the two paramedics, one a girl. "The lady's here, in this car."

As he said afterwards to his girlfriend, he'd never been quite so terrified in his entire life, not even when that young thug came at him with his knife.

"Thought she was going to have it then and there."

The girlfriend said briskly that policemen were always delivering babies. There'd been a story in the Daily Mail Daily Mail only last week, and she was sure he'd have been perfectly all right. Robbie was sure he wouldn't. only last week, and she was sure he'd have been perfectly all right. Robbie was sure he wouldn't.

"Jonathan? Jonathan, thank God, at last-wherever are you; where have you been?"

Laura's voice was unusually harsh; he winced at the thought of how much harsher it would become.

"I'm on the M4, darling. Sorry not to have got in touch before."

"The M4? What on earth are you doing on the M4? Everyone's been so worried. I rang the clinic, but they hadn't heard from you since early afternoon, and then when I did ring you this afternoon I heard your voice, and then it was just-just an awful noise and then nothing-are you saying that wasn't you?"

"Laura, there's been a very bad crash on the motorway," said Jonathan, struggling to keep his voice level, finding it-illogically-hard to believe that she didn't know. "Really bad-I got caught up in it; lorry driver went through the barrier. At least three people killed, I'm afraid-"

"Oh, my God, Jonathan, how ghastly. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. But I've been doing what I could. Obviously."

"Yes, of course. I understand. But ... well, I wish you'd phoned, darling, I've been so worried."

"I'm sorry. Somehow, with all that's going on, didn't think of it. Lot of badly injured people, one chap practically bleeding to death, old lady having a suspected heart attack; I really didn't have time to chat."