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This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental.

I have based the tragic incident in the first chapter on a real event, and I salute those public servants and volunteers who worked so hard to manage the event, from every angle. My heart goes out to those directly and indirectly involved in the whole horrible affair, and I hope that I can, in some small way, pay homage to those who sought to bring relief and help.

I dedicate this work to the police officers, fire fighters, paramedics, doctors and nurses and all the other professionals and volunteers who give of themselves on a daily basis for the sake of others.

Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.

The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.

This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don't read it.

December is definitely the wrong month to buy a motorcycle. Even if it is a sexy little, jazzy red and black Italian pseudo-scooter. I persuaded Daddy to buy me a helmet, boots and leathers to match.

Daddy took me in after school on the following afternoon to buy it. All schoolwork was finished for the term and we were all busy preparing for the end of term events. I really loved drumming and just being in close proximity to Tim for several hours a day. He was still not over possessive or even proprietary with me. Instead, he was relaxed and so trusting. I had imagined that he might be rather jealous, but he didn't seem to mind to whom I chatted and, if he did, he hid it brilliantly.

I could have spent more on the leathers than on the bike, if I'd wanted to. Even so, the sales office arranged CBT and all the training courses and I signed up for the works. I wasn't allowed to ride it until I completed the CBT in any case.

The courses were booked up until the New Year, so I had to curb my patience. In a way, I was quite pleased, as it gave me a little longer to mend my head. I was still reluctant to ride for some reason, it was as if I had never ridden and I was a little fearful. Yet, a motorcycle seemed more familiar. This was another little item I'd like to speak to Annie about, the next time I saw her.

It was a lot of money, but Dad was adamant that my independence would be worth it. Who was I to complain when he paid the bills?

There was a car park adjacent to the showroom and the salesman took me out and allowed me to practice riding around to get the hang of it. It was easy, with automatic gears, a twist-grip throttle and simple brakes. It was a simple step up from a bicycle and once again, I felt an inner confidence in riding the machine. I had an inkling that 49cc was nothing to the mysterious talent that lurked somewhere in the depths of my psyche.

I was loath to leave it behind, but at least I could take the leathers home. The leathers looked as if they were made for a rider of a much larger machine, but Daddy wanted me to be as safe as I could be, so only the best for his precious little girl.

They were black and red, with white piping down the legs and sleeves. Cut for the female figure, with padding on the shoulders, elbows knees, and thighs, they looked dead sexy. The helmet was black, full face, with darkened visor and red flames with yellow edges down each side, just to make it more visible.

When wearing the leathers, the helmet and leather boots I felt like a TT racer, until I got on my little scooter, that is. Once again, familiarity knocked on my brain. I didn't know how to let it in, or out! The scooter had a sweet little back box in which I could keep a change of clothes and schoolbooks.

I was desperate to show it off to everyone, but Dad was really adamant about my training. I could have taken it home and used it on private roads, but he was too strong for me.

“I know you. You'll be tempted to use in on the roads, just to see Charlotte or to the shops. Until the CBT is under your belt, it stays here. Besides, it's your Christmas present and I'm not paying for the bike until you take delivery!”

“Jenny, in April, you'll be still in school, I'll be flying, and although you'll take lessons, this will give you the independence until you pass the test, which probably won't be for at least a year from now. Up to then, a full licence holder will have to be with you wherever you go. Your little scooter will do until then. I have to be honest, I will be happier to see you in a car, but acknowledge that it isn't practical while I'm on my own.”

“Jenny, I'm forty-nine and with two children both at private school, I'm hardly a good catch.”

“Dad, you're a handsome and charming man, who is so sexy and fun to be with. Your children are so wonderful, or your daughter is at least, any woman with half a brain would flock to your door.”

“That's the problem, I'd rather my women have whole brains,” he said chuckling.

We arrived back home and I put my leathers and stuff away. I was quite excited and could hardly wait to get on the road. I went back down stairs and Dad was sifting through his Emails.

“Ron and Heather want to know if you want to go and stay with them for Christmas,” he said.

“No, as your aunt Mary is also planning to have them, as Uncle Keith and the boys are over from New Zealand for Christmas. I think that's why they want you to stay.”

“Mark and Luke. They are your cousins. Keith is Mum's younger brother and he emigrated back in the seventies. He married Kay, a New Zealander, but they got divorced in 2001. The boys are a little younger than you and Richard. Mark is fourteen and Luke is twelve. It's his turn to have them for Christmas and as they couldn't get back for the funeral, they are coming over to see your grandparents.”

“Not really. But you haven't seen them for about six years. It's anyone's guess.”

“I don't want to go, Dad. For two reasons; one, I don't think I could take Gran for that long, and two, I want to be here with you.”

“Oh yes. I mean, before, you two were sort of an item, but you both also went out with the girls and other boys. Now it's either him or your old father.”

“Dad, I like him. He makes me feel good. I need to feel good, particularly now. We laugh at the same things, we like the same music, and he is the most wonderful kisser!”

Dad opened his mouth, saw my expression and closed it again, as he knew now when I was teasing – sort of.

“Fine, then I'll say no more, but now you mother isn't here, I feel I ought to be telling you all about contraception and things.”

“Dad, we've been here before. I'm not having sex and I am aware of the realities of life. I think somehow, you will know when I become sexually active.”

“I never knew how much I'd miss your mother. Thanks, Jenny, but I think we can trust each other not to need to have graphic discussions about sex.”

“We can if you want, Dad. I do have some questions of position thirty four in Karma Sutra.”

“Can I come to your place? My parents are going out to a school do for my brother. It's his end of term play, or something.”

“See, far too serious!” he said, ducking when I threw the oven gloves at him.

It was fun having the two men in my life for a meal. Tim and Dad got on very well, as Tim was really interested in aeroplanes and flying. It was Dad's passion ever since he'd been very young, so it was the only thing he'd wanted to do. He'd joined the RAF straight from school, and trained up as a pilot on large transports, Hercules, VC10s and Tristars.

He took a golden opportunity and joined BA, moving up to the 747 fleet and making Captain about five years ago. Tim was so interested and they both became so animated with the subject that I felt somewhat neglected.

I cleared away and washed up. I stopped in mid wash and just thought for a moment. It was strange, as I was quite content with domestic chores, but somehow felt there was more to life for me than this. I'd thought a lot about Tim and me as a couple. Despite adoring his company, I knew that I shouldn't be tying myself to any one boy for some time yet. I thought about sex quite a lot, and yet, the being wanted and loved was more important to me than any squishy sex act. I suppose the act came as reinforcement of the emotional feelings and not the other way around.

I put the cutlery and crockery away and hung my apron up. I had occasional waves of feeling like my mother. It was daft, as I still couldn't remember very much, yet little actions like hanging up the apron, made me feel like her.

I was confused. Just as I thought I'd worked out what I was, something changed it. Now I felt as if some part of my mother was residing somewhere deep inside me. Was I a kind of ghostly bus service?

I put the kettle on and made some coffees. I took them in and found Dad and Tim still in mid technical discussion on the new fly-by-wire technology used in the Airbus fleet.

“Jenny, love, did I hear you do the washing up? You shouldn't have bothered, as Tim and I could have done it.”

I sat with them and Tim lost interest in planes and asked me about Flora and Dora.

“Because it is lower, slower and for some reason I feel more confident. I'm not sure I remember how to ride a horse.”

Dad looked at me with one eyebrow raised and Tim coughed. He was embarrassed and he thought my theory was a little nuts.

Tim cycled home and I was a little sad to see him go. I felt good when he was around, even if we weren't actually together. It was daft, but I just felt secure he was close.

“You have grown up so much. A couple of times I had to blink, as you looked so like your mother.

“Don't be, sweetie. At least I know that she lives on in you and I've still got some of her with me.”

The concert was a great success. Benny had returned, briefly, and then promptly disappeared again, this time with his parents. He was obviously not cut out for A levels in this school. They were looking at getting him on a vocational course in a subject in which he was interested. I was glad I didn't have to deal with him, he was a little loony, I think. Hark at who's talking!

The band all dressed in black tee shirts and black jeans. So I tried the same uniform, but got so hot I rebelled. Standing strumming a guitar or playing a keyboard is far less energetic than playing drums. I ended up in a strappy black top and a black miniskirt. I couldn't wear tights or stockings, as I overheated. I found I needed proper shoes to work the bass and high hat pedals, so heels were out. I ended up in trainers, black, of course.

Charlie did my makeup. She decided that I ought to go for a sexy, vamp look, and I sat back and allowed her to do her worst. She then gelled my hair and put some sparkly stuff into it. She made me wear really dark nail varnish, just to complete the look.

I walked out onto the stage. The curtain was closed, and I looked at what she'd given me. They were fingerless long fishnet black gloves, and they did look amazing. I slid them on, settling in behind my drums.

Tim checked his guitar and looked at each of us in turn. It was our first real concert and I was very nervous. So were the others and we all grinned inanely at each other.

“Okay, good luck everyone, let's do it!” Tim said, as he nodded to the stagehand.

The lights were extinguished, the curtain drawn, so I started with a slow roll on the snare drum. It built up and at the crescendo, a flare was set off behind us and we launched into the first song.

The hour flew past. I lost myself in a weird surreal experience. I closed my eyes and was able to visualise other concerts in a different life. I know I drummed well, and the whole band seemed to rise to the occasion and we really kept it together. Old songs, new songs, it didn't seem to matter. We went through everything we rehearsed, and were cheered on for two encores.

When we finally ended, the applause was deafening. We grinned triumphantly at each other as we hurried to get our kit off the stage for the next group. Ironically, it was the school orchestra, so I got some rather funny looks from my erstwhile colleagues. It seems they considered me a traitor.

We were on a high. The adrenaline was still pumping through our veins, as we were shooed out into the courtyard. We buzzed with excitement and drank litres of cold drinks. I was so hot, it was lovely being outside in the colder air.

“I love everything about you. But I have to say, they are the least sexy thing about your outfit.”

I laughed, delving into my backpack. I took out a pair of black high heel boots, exchanging them for my trainers.

He said nothing, tilted his head and kissed me gently on the lips. I returned it, and we stayed like that for a few minutes.

“Barton, put her down. She can breathe by herself, you know?” said a passing master.

“You're always fantastic, but especially tonight, on those drums. You made us better.”

We calmed down and sneaked back in to listen to the orchestra playing their jazz medley. They were very good, but I thought the percussionist was mediocre. I could have done better. Tim looked at me and grinned.

It was the end of term and everyone was on a high. School was out for four weeks, Christmas was coming, so there were loads of parties being arranged.

I said my goodbyes to those I wouldn't see until next term, and as I was collecting my stuff from the band room, I was aware someone was watching me. I turned and saw Samantha lurking by the door.

I stood, folded my arms and waited. She had studiously avoided me since our confrontation and I was expecting some reaction or retaliation.

“I never said you were. I just wondered what the hell I'd done for you to be so foul to me.”

“Nothing really. I was just fed up with you always being better than me, and when you took Tim from me, that was it.”

“Yes, well, no, but it could have been. I was getting on well with him at that party and then you came along. He only had eyes for you and he just pissed off leaving me standing there like a lemon. Then, the next time I see him, you're wrapped around him, and he's forgotten I existed.”

I looked at this girl with fresh eyes. She was very pretty, but with an air of gloom as portrayed by her gothic makeup, clothes and hairstyle. I had some idea that Tim was the root cause of our problem, and it was nice that she felt able to talk about it at last.

“I'm sorry. If I had any memory of before the crash, it wouldn't help, but I honestly had no idea you felt this way. I knew you fancied him, I mean, who wouldn't? He's gorgeous, but if I've hurt you, it wasn't deliberate, I assure you.”

“I know. I think that's what made it worse. You're so bloody nice all the time. I really thought that when you nearly died, I could win him back. Then you came back even nicer. I knew I was being nasty, but couldn't seem to stop myself. I'm so sorry.”

I was standing a few feet from her. This must be very hard for her, and I realised I wasn't making it any easier with my closed up body language.

“Sam, I accept your apology. I'm happy to start again. As I said to you before, I'd rather be a friend than an enemy. I don't expect us to become lovers, but we can be friends. On one condition,” I said.

“Tim is not negotiable. I don't want him used as a pawn by anyone, even me. Okay?”

“You had the scariest eyes and your voice made me go really cold. It was as if you'd been taken over by a powerful force. I knew then that I couldn't beat you.”

“Yeah, I think up ‘til then, I still thought I had a chance. But you really scared me. Can I ask you a personal question?”

“It's weird, you seem different, somehow. I mean, this may sound silly, but I used to watch you. Jealousy does that, I suppose, I watched you a lot. I thought I knew everything about you, and now, you've changed.”

“Changed? In what way?” I was interested now, for if my father and those close to me couldn't see any change, how was it someone like Samantha could?

“It's so difficult to explain, especially now I'm standing here with you. Well, it's as if you've suddenly grown up. Not just a few months or even now act your age. It's like, well, it's like you're suddenly the next generation up.”

“There, you don't react like you used to, over anything. It's as if you're my parents' age. You speak like them and behave like them. I watched you drumming. You were brilliant, but you weren't like the others, all laughing and giggling. You were having fun and smiling, but it was as if you'd done it all before.”

I was half smiling, as I found this reinforced my own concepts of what had happened. I was amused that she could see it though. She mistook my expression for something else and became quite upset.

“Oh God! I'm sorry, Jenny, I'm way out of line. What with your mum being killed and everything, the last thing you need is some neurotic fool like me seeing things that aren't there.”

“Sam, I'm not upset. You have to realise that I remember absolutely nothing about before the crash. I don't even remember me. When I looked at myself in the mirror, it was like seeing me for the first time, so it's no wonder I appear different.”

“Just about. I have a few memories, but they are snatches and nothing real. I dreamed of my Mum just before the crash, but most of it is a blank.”

“No. I was told about him, and when he came up to me at the funeral, it was as if my body remembered, but my brain didn't. It was fun getting to know him again.”

“Sam, lets start again. I'm not the kind of person who steals men. I hope you can learn to forget, and move on.”

“I think I have. I'd rather be a friend, you scared me, so I'd not want to get on your bad side.”

We had a hug and parted. We weren't exactly friends yet, but at least we weren't enemies any more.