Those who love you most

Disclaimer: Hang on, just let me check my e-mail... Nope, the BBC havn't given them to me, they still own New Tricks.

Sandra stood as still as a statue, horrified at the scene in front of her. The last few moments kept playing out in her mind, the lorry swerving, then rolling over, the load spilling onto the road in front of her, the debris raining down on her car, the feel of Strickland's hand as he grabbed hold of hers, and the pain.

She stood watching the emergency personel as they did their best to make sense of the chaos, she heard a voice calling out over the noise of the sirens.

"This one here is one of our's. Top brass." She followed the direction of the voice and saw a young pc in a yellow high visibility jacket, holding a wallet, she looked down to the owner of the wallet. She couldn't stop the sob from escaping as she saw the broken form of her boss, the medics frantically trying to stop the blood which was spreading across the soaking wet road, blooming out like the petals on a blood red rose, she shook her head in disbelief. She had wanted to scare him, make him regret dragging her to that stupid conference, not this. She never wanted to hurt him.

"I should have slowed down, if I hadn't have driven so fast, we'd have been further back, I did this." She whispered to herself. Her gaze not leaving the form on the ground. "I'm so sorry." She tore her eyes away, she could see her own body on the other side of the car, she was surprised that this didn't bother her so much, the sight of her own form, with a very obvious head injury was less troubling to her in some way.

She had heard stories of this sort of thing before, people standing outside there bodies, looking on as if they were watching a movie. She had to admit that it was a strange sensation.

"What next, a tunnel of light? A choir of heavenly voices?" She spoke out loud. None of the medics even registered her presence.

"That would be a bit of a cliche, wouldn't it?" A female voice replied. Sandra froze, she recognised the voice, but it was impossible. She turned slowly.

"Mary?" She gasped.

"Hello sweetheart. I'd like to say it's nice to see you again, but to be honest, I'd hoped we wouldn't meet again untill you were old and grey."

"Is this it then. Am I dead?"

"No, not yet, you're still fighting." Sandra looked into the face of the woman who had been like a mother to her in the darkest part of her life. She had ran to Jack and Mary's to escape the oppressive atmosphere which had invaded her own home, of course she now knew the reason why her own mother had been so distant and hostile at that time.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm one of those who love you most. I'm here to help you. I know what you are thinking. Where is your Dad?"

"I was thinking that, but then again, I don't know if I want to see him yet. It's still too soon." Sandra swiped away the tears which had started to fall.

"He know's that love. That's why I came." Sandra's eyes drifted back to the man who was still being worked on.

"I never meant to hurt him." She whispered.

"Oh darling! This is just one of those things that happen. It's not your fault." The older woman put her arms around Sandra's shoulders.

"I was driving too fast, he asked me to slow down."

"And you did. You mustn't blame yourself."

"Will he make it?" Sandra asked in a quiet voice, as she watched the paramedics bustle around him. One stood and called for a stretcher.

"Right, we can't do anymore for him here. We need to get him to hospital if he's going to stand any chance." They loaded him onto the trolley and rushed him to a waiting ambulance.

"One person will die here tonight." Mary told her, a sympathetic tone to her voice. "I can't say who."

"He can't die. What about his kids? If it has to be someone, then it should be me."

"He hasn't seen his children since his wife left him, she's poisoned them against him. He has no family, no friends. No one to leave behind. At least that's the case he's making at the moment." Sandra looked at Mary in shock.

"He's here too? Where? I want to see him." She looked around, frantically searching for his face. He came into view a few meters away, he was on his knees beside her double, his head lowered. She could see an elderly man standing behind him, one hand resting on Robert's shoulder, trying to offer some kind of comfort.

"Can't he see me?" She asked.

"You wanted to see him, so you can. He hasn't even considered the possibility that you are here. He's already volunteered his life so that you can live. He made a very good case." Sandra put her hand to her mouth, tears rolling freely down her face.

"No, please no." She begged anybody who may be listening. "Why?"

"He loves you, you know." Mary told her. Sandra nodded.

"The boy's have teased me about it, they keep on about how he fancies me. I never really took any notice." She admitted. Mary shook her head.

"He doesn't fancy you. He doesn't just want to get you into bed. He is in love with you. He watches from a distance, afraid to say anything in case you shatter his dreams. He would rather be a part of your life with you not noticing him, than tell you and risk you leaving. He hides behind the part of boss, never letting anyone see his pain. And he would rather die, than live in a world without you."

"I never realised." Sandra sobbed. The old man looked at her sadly and gave her a gentle smile. He had the same eyes as Robert, and the same shy smile. She turned to ask Mary, but the older woman beat her to it.

"That's his Grandfather, Lawrence Cavendish. He is probably the only person who every really loved Robert. He died when Robert was six. The poor boy was given into the 'care' of his stepfather." Sandra could tell by the venom attached to the word 'care' that it had been anything but. As she watched, Rob and his Grandfather faded from sight.

"Noooo! I need to talk to him!" She cried.

"It's time to move on." Mary told her, as the scene of chaos faded into blackness.

/

Authors note; I meant to get this chapter up last night. Sorry, I wasn't happy with it so I did some editing.