New Year Roadkill

When a police van had arrived to take the drunk driver away they took our details. They breath tested Moira -- absolutely negative, and because it was my car and we might have swapped seats although the dash cam showed we hadn't, they breath-tested me as well. I was on 25, ten below the limit, but they agreed that it made more sense for Moira to be driving.

Moira reversed my car away from the wreck with a screech of tortured metal from the other car. I looked at the damage on both. My car? The massive bull bars had been displaced about two inches. That was it. His car? One wheel was completely detached and lying on the ground. The front wing was smashed right back to the driver's door. The engine had been forced off its mountings and the gearbox had come upwards between the seats. The car was an obvious write off.

If he had been driving faster than about twenty-five miles an hour when he hit he would have been dead. We had been slightly shaken. That was all.

"George, I'm pleased we were in this car," Moira said. "If it had been your old one..."

"We'd have been road kill, Moira."

"But what about the insurance, George?"

"You were driving on yours, Moira. That is third party. But he can't claim against us. We were stationary on the opposite side of the road, almost off it. The dash cam and the police arrest shows it was entirely his fault. But he had no insurance. It depends on the small print on your policy about what happens when you are hit by an uninsured driver, Moira."

"I think I'm covered, George."

"Even if you are not, the damage to my car is minimal. I might have to get a metal working shop to hit the bull bars with heavy hammers. Cost what? Fifty pounds? That's less than the excess. But because the police were involved you'll have to tell your insurers even if you don't claim. The dash cam recording will convince them that you couldn't do anything to avoid it."

"OK, George, but now I need a coffee. Two sisters that were nearly road kill in a couple of days are too much."

"Then drive on -- unless you would rather I drove? After all, I've just been cleared by breathalyser."

"Would you, George, please?"

"Of course, Moira."

+++

We arrived back at my flat without incident. Over coffee we discussed what Moira had to do to move offices. At first she didn't want to bring much if she was moving in with me. My flat is furnished. She thought that everything she wanted would be a light load in her car. She could drive down next Friday, and be ready to start in the new office on Monday.

Moira stayed two more nights and I was able to take a more active role in bed. We cleared the third bedroom. On the evening of the day that Moira went back home, Janis and the three other women took me out for a restaurant meal before staying the night in my flat.

The Friday when Mora returned she was very tired, having driven a long way. We had a meal at home and went to bed for a quiet night cuddling each other. On Saturday we had a restaurant meal and a much more passionate night in bed but not as active as the Monday night after her first day at work. She liked the people she was working with and her role.

+++

On Valentine's Day, Janis and her friends organised a party at their house. I proposed to Moira and was accepted. Anita introduced her new boyfriend, a fellow student, who seemed to be a nice bloke who was treating her delicately.

Moira and I will marry in May. After the honeymoon we would be house-hunting. With two salaries we could afford a detached house. She had sold her car because she preferred the safety of my large one as there were still too many drunk drivers every Friday and Saturday nights.

Neither of us wanted to be road kill.