Road Kill

Road Kill

By Jane Scoggins

George had recently been dumped by his girlfriend. He was back living with his Mum temporarily and that wasn't going well either. She had house rules, and this made him feel like a teenager again. He had gone to the pub to get out the house, and by chance met up with some old mates. He had told them his tales of woe and being the wind-up merchants they had always been, they laughingly taunted him. Knowing that George quite easily lost his cool, as had been the case since school days, they enjoyed the fun of watching him rise to the bait. Jed and Mac were the worst and led the others. When George felt he was getting to boiling point he took his leave. Driving away from the pub he felt angry. His so called mates had teased him and made fun of his inability to keep his girlfriend, and about having to return home to his Mum. He didn't have the personality to take it and he was a hot head. He banged his fist hard a second time on the steering wheel in recognition of his stupidity and humiliation and took a few swigs from the half bottle of whisky he kept under the seat. He drove on in the darkness feeling thoroughly dissatisfied with his life. There was no other traffic on this back road which was lucky as he was not paying attention around the bends and suddenly there was a thud and then silence. George knew he had hit something so he slowed down and stopped the car and turned off the engine. All was silent. The thud had sounded substantial. 'Bound to be another bloody badger, they are everywhere around here ’ he said under his breath. He opened the car door, got out and peered back down the dark road. He couldn’t see anything. He checked the front nearside bumper, there was no damage, and decided not to look any further.  Whatever it was had gone now and he didn't want to hang about knowing he was over the limit.  He had chosen to take the B164 rather than the main road for that reason and wanted to avoid even a slim chance of another motorist stopping, and then reporting him if they smelt his breath, or if he came across a member of the Save The Badger league who were sometimes around at night checking the sets. Badgers were big solid animals so maybe he just got a nasty bump and had run back across the field .So he put the Audi into first gear and slowly pulled away. Accidents happen, but knew he was at fault whatever it was he had hit due the speed he was driving and lack of concentration. ‘Good job it wasn’t an oncoming car that would have been nasty. He had previous form and convictions for drink driving and currently had six points on his driving licence. He banged his fist hard and angrily yet again on the steering wheel, suddenly feeling more sober than he had ten minutes ago, but his mind was in a mess, thinking straight was hard, and he fought back tears of wretchedness.

         Letting himself into the house very quietly George went straight up to bed. He could hear his mother's gentle snoring as he passed her bedroom door.

Setting the alarm and getting up early he took paracetamol with a glass of water for his hangover and went to work. Trying to put the loss of his girlfriend, and the events of the previous night out of is mind, George concentrated on his work as best he could. Arriving home in the evening he was relieved to find a post-it note from his mother telling him she had gone to see her sister for the evening and there was shepherds pie in the oven for his dinner.

        The next few days passed uneventfully and George's mother was pleased that they seemed to be getting along OK. She took the opportunity to chat to him about her job at Tesco supermarket and the bits of news and gossip that arose from her interactions with other staff. He listened but didn't show much interest until his mother mentioned the body that had been found rolled down in the ditch near the sharp bend along the old B164.

       Seemingly the dead man, a youngster really, was the younger brother of a man she remembered George had gone to school with, a Jed Thompson.

        ''The police found his motor scooter back up the road, broken down. They think he had left it hidden in the hedge and started to walk, probably hoping to get a lift from a passing car. He had been working somewhere away, and his family were not expecting him home.

       ''They didn't even know that he had bought a scooter,'' she said ''He must have wanted to surprise them. His mother will be devastated.''

        The funeral date was announced, and his Mum read it out from the local newspaper. It was she who suggested he ought to go, out of respect. He said he would. He dressed carefully and slowly on the morning of the funeral in his one and only suit. His boss had shown concern and sympathy when George had approached the subject of time off for the funeral. He had noticed that George had been in low mood of late.

       ''Of course you must go, take the day off. A terrible thing to have happened to a youngster just starting out in life. Your schoolmate will appreciate you being there for him.''

   The church was packed with old and young alike. Flowers were everywhere; on the coffin, in the church, and carried in bunches by those attending the service. Tears were also in abundance and George felt the power of the sadness and shock of those all around him. He was enveloped in their grief. He had intended to slip away after the service, when he had paid his respects to Jed and his parents, but they had insisted he go along to the pub where the wake was being held. George bought a pint of lager and stood with it at the bar. Several of Jed's and his school friends were there and they chatted in subdued voices for a while. He made an excuse to go to the gents toilet, just to get away. Jed approached him when he came back into the room. He looked a different man to the one George knew. He looked broken. He did not recognise this person who had always been cocky and self assured, the boy who had regularly teased him at school, and ribbed or taunted him at every opportunity since leaving school. Jed grasped George's hand and spoke in a voice choked with emotion.

  ''Thanks for coming mate, I am still in shock. My little brother, gone forever. Come outside with me for a minute will you whilst I have a cigarette. Jed had half finished his cigarette before he spoke.

  ''I know I haven't always been nice to you George, in fact I have been a pig at times, but you were always so easy to bait. I am sorry. I should have outgrown all that nonsense. But we have known each other since school and I need to confide in you. It is because of me that Pete died. He had asked me to help him buy a car, and I had said no, even though I could easily afford it. I didn’t get any help when I wanted to buy my first car, and I couldn't see why he should have it easier than me.  I wanted him to struggle. And do you know, he never complained. The only time he asked me for something I turned him down flat, out of spite. I have always been jealous of him. He was more clever, happier and better looking than me. So he ended up buying an old scooter which broke down. He walked along a dark road at night hoping for a lift and tripped and banged his head or was knocked down. We don’t know. He was coming home to surprise Mum and Dad. Apparently, the firm was taking him on permanently after he did so well in his apprenticeship. They would have been as proud as punch.

 Jed paused before going on.

    ''I haven’t told anyone what I have just told you. Mum and Dad would never forgive me for not helping him so I can't ever tell them.  Please don’t tell anyone? I will carry that guilt now till I die.''

George nodded in agreement.

    ''Thanks mate, sorry to have burdened you.''

The two men parted and went their separate ways. Knowing now the date and place of Pete’s death, George could not forget the noise of the thud on his nearside wing the night he drove home from the pub.

Copyright Jane Scoggins