Disclaimer: All recognisable characters belong to HiT Entertainment. All OCs belong to me.

Chapter 7

Peter Collins breathed a sigh of relief as he hung up his mobile phone. He then straightened the papers on the desk he was using in the Newtown Police Station. Karen Holt entered the room.

"Any updates?" she asked as she handed over a document.

"Yes. I've just received a call from Doctor Fisher. He said that we may visit Samuel Jones after ten a.m. today."

"Do you think he'll be well enough to answer our questions?"

Peter stood up. "There's only one way to find out. Bring your recorder and notebook. I'll summon the others. I want to have a briefing about what questions we're going to ask Mr Jones before we go to the hospital. I have a feeling his doctor won't let us stay for long, so we'll have to be careful which questions we ask. We need to find out as much as possible, so we can continue with the investigation."

After my personal needs had been attended to, I returned to my hospital bed. The sheets had been changed while I was having my bath, so I felt very refreshed as I settled back down on it. Even moving that short distance from the bathroom to my bed had exhausted me. I was watching TV, when Dr Fisher entered my room, followed by four strangers. I promptly turned off the TV.

"How are you feeling, Sam?" Dr Fisher asked me.

"A lot better, thank you. I presume this is the SCIU?"

One of the men stepped forward. "I'm Peter Collins, head of this SCIU team. We've been anxious to talk to you about your accident."

I just sighed tiredly in response. Peter's colleagues made themselves comfortable at the table in the corner, while Peter sat in the chair beside my bed. Dr Fisher picked up my chart, and he started to update it.

I saw the female SCIU team member place a small recorder down on the coffee table in front of her. "My name's Karen Holt. Since you haven't been able to give a formal witness statement to the police, we're going to record this interview. Are you comfortable with that, or would you prefer to have your lawyer present as well?"

I frowned thoughtfully. I didn't have a lawyer, but I did need to have an impartial witness. I nodded at Dr Fisher.

"Doctor Fisher can be a witness for me," I said.

Nodding, Dr Fisher replaced my chart in the slot at the foot of my bed, and he went and stood behind Peter. Karen started the recorder, and she spoke into the microphone.

"SCIU interview with Leading Fireman Samuel Jones, the driver of the fire service 4x4 quadbike that crashed and caught fire on the Newtown Road on the evening of the fourteenth of January 2017. Present at the interview are Peter Collins, Karen Holt, Michael Taylor and Patrick Smithers from the Cardiff SCIU, and Doctor Brian Fisher. Current time and date is ten-sixteen a.m. on the sixteenth of January 2017. Leading Fireman Jones, I must warn you that anything you say from now on will be recorded and may be used as evidence against you. Do you wish to proceed with this interview?"

"Yes," I consented.

Peter opened his notebook. "I understand that you've been in the fire service for many years, is that correct?"

I nodded. "It's been my life's career. I couldn't imagine doing anything else."

"How familiar were you with the 4x4 quadbike?"

"I've been Mercury's regular driver for five years."

"Sorry, Mercury?"

"All of our fire appliances have nicknames," I explained. "They're all astrological names. Mercury is the name of the 4x4 quadbike."

Peter smiled, and he wrote that down. "I see… I understand that you're something of a hero in these parts, is that right?"

I glanced down at my broken arm, which was now resting on a pillow beside me. "I've always done my job to the best of my abilities," I replied in a low voice. "I wouldn't call myself a hero though."

I saw Peter glance at his colleagues. Then, he glanced back down at his notebook. "What happened after you left Newtown on the day of the accident?"

I stared straight at Peter. I'd known that question would be asked, but I wasn't expecting it quite so soon. "I don't know."

Peter didn't look surprised by my answer. "Do you remember anything that occurred that day?"

Fragments of the flashback dream I'd had the night before returned. I spoke slowly while I gathered the fragments together. "I remember…preparing my equipment, and Mercury…and saying goodbye to Station Officer Steele…"

That seemed to surprise Peter, because he immediately made eye contact with me. "What did you do to prepare Mercury?"

I thought hard for a moment. "Just what I normally do every morning, after I sign on for duty. I checked the oil, tyre pressures and brake fluid before I put my firefighting equipment in the locker. Then, I refuelled Mercury and I left."

"Did anything seem abnormal to you?" Karen asked.

I shook my head again. "I don't think so. I don't really remember what happened after I left the fire station."

"Do you remember anything that happened while you were in Newtown?"

"No. I don't even know why I was in Newtown."

I saw Peter frown as he made some notes in his notebook. "How many times would you go to Newtown in an average year?"

"Probably at least five times." I closed my eyes tiredly. "Depends..."

"On what?" Karen prompted.

"…Whether or not I'm needed there…"

There was silence for a moment, then I felt Dr Fisher shake me gently. "Sam? Have you had enough?"

"For now," I muttered sleepily. "I just want to sleep."

"Okay. Sorry, Peter, but I'm afraid I must ask you to end the interview here. Sam is far too tired to continue."

"Understood," Peter reluctantly agreed.

Karen spoke into the recorder's microphone. "Current time is ten twenty-eight. Interview terminated based on doctor's advice. Persons present are the same as stated at the beginning of this recording."

I heard Karen stop the recorder. Then, I listened as everyone quietly left my hospital room. Once the door had closed, I snuggled down under my blankets to sleep.

"Well, how do you think that went?" Peter asked as he got into the driver's seat of the SCIU's 4x4 that was parked in the hospital's carpark. His colleagues climbed in quickly to get out of the cold winter's wind that was blowing outside. Once the doors were closed, Peter started the engine, and he turned the heat on. But he didn't start driving.

"I think he could've continued answering questions for a bit longer," Karen replied. She did up her seatbelt. "But, we agreed to stop as soon as Dr Fisher asked us to."

"Yes… I got the impression that he knows more than what he was willing to tell us. I think he pretended to be exhausted so that we'd be forced to stop." Peter said.

"What do you think, Patrick?" Karen asked. "You've been very quiet throughout this investigation."

"That's because I like to have all the facts in front of me before I draw my conclusions," Patrick replied. "I know you haven't said it, but your mannerisms indicate that you think Samuel Jones is guilty in some way. We haven't yet had the vehicle report, so I think that until we have all the facts we can get, we mustn't jump to conclusions."

"I know," Peter agreed. He sighed heavily. "But Sam may never remember everything that happened to him. I wish there was a way we could get inside that mind of his…"

"We could always try hypnotising him," Michael suggested. "I've heard of it being used before with people who have amnesia. The memories are there, they just need to be brought into focus. Hypnotism can do that."

"The only problem with that is that Sam's going to have to remember what he's said in his witness statement if he's ever brought to trial," Karen pointed out. "Hypnotism evidence won't stand up in a court of law."

"It can sometimes," Peter mused. "But that's always under extreme circumstances."

"I guess we'll just have to keep waiting until Sam's feeling well enough to present us with a full witness statement," Karen sighed. "Did anyone pick up on any significant leads?"

"The fact that he refuelled the vehicle before leaving caught my attention," Michael said. "I wonder if he did something wrong there?"

"If he's been driving the vehicle for five years, as he said, I doubt he'd make a mistake like that."

"Depends if he regularly services the vehicle," Karen pointed out.

"He said he did," Patrick said. "He said he regularly serviced the vehicle every morning after he signed in."

Karen and Peter sighed heavily with frustration.

"Perhaps it's time I asked Boyce for access to Samuel's service records," Peter mused.

"That's not a bad idea, actually," Karen agreed. "That may reveal something about him that we haven't been told yet. Let's stop by the fire station again now."

Nodding, Peter put the 4x4 into gear, and he drove out of the hospital's carpark.

At the Pontypandy fire station, Sam's colleagues were settling down to have lunch after spending most of the morning doing training drills.

"Sir," Penny ventured. "Could we go and visit Sam this afternoon, please?"

Station Officer Steele sat down at the kitchen table before he replied. "Well, I phoned the hospital earlier, to see if Sam is well enough for more visitors, and his doctor said that although Sam is tiring easily, he can have visitors for short periods only. But, I can only afford to let two of you visit this afternoon. Penny and Arnold may visit Sam this afternoon. Elvis and Ellie may visit him tomorrow."

"Can we take Radar along too?" Arnold asked. "He's pining for Sam, and I'm sure Sam must be missing him too."

"I don't see why not," Station Officer Steele agreed. "Just make sure he behaves himself, or he won't be allowed back."

"Don't worry," Penny said as she stroked Radar affectionately. "I'm sure Radar will behave once he sees Sam."

It was just after one o'clock in the afternoon, and I was in the process of finishing my lunch, when Dr Fisher entered my room, carrying some files.

"Nice to see that you're eating normally," he said. "Are you still feeling tired?"

"Not really. The nap I had earlier helped. Can I get up again this afternoon, please?"

Dr Fisher sighed in defeat. "All right… But only because you've been progressing so well. Just stay in your room for now though. With any luck, you should be well enough to go home in a few days."

"I don't suppose I could change into my pyjamas? They'd be a bit more comfortable than this gown."

Dr Fisher smiled. "Yes, I can allow that. Do you have them here?"

"No. I'll have to phone Charlie and ask him to bring them. Do you have my mobile phone?"

"I gave your personal possessions to Charlie for safe-keeping. You may use the hospital phone though. Here." And he handed the room's cordless phone over to me. I dialled Charlie's number.

Minutes later, everything had been sorted out. Charlie agreed to bring some of my personal clothes and possessions to the hospital later that afternoon. With nothing better to do, I started watching TV again.

About an hour later, Charlie arrived. He smiled when he saw me watching a British comedy.

"Feeling better, Sam?"

"Much better. Did you bring everything I asked for?"

"Yes. I've even brought along some rock cakes that Bronwyn made especially for you."

"Rock cakes? Now you're just spoiling me!"

Charlie chuckled. "Come on! Let's get you out of that horrible hospital gown. I'll just ask a nurse to disconnect your I.V. while you change."

"Thanks."

Before long, I had changed into my pyjamas and dressing gown, and I was sitting with Charlie in the little nook where the armchairs and coffee table were. Because of the drip, I couldn't put my right hand through the sleeve of my dressing gown, and I obviously couldn't put my casted arm through the left sleeve, so I just draped the dressing gown over my shoulders, like a cape. My casted left arm was supported by a sling around my neck.

"When can you bring Sarah and James to see me?" I asked.

"Tomorrow, if you like. They want to know if they can sign your cast."

I smiled. "I think I'd prefer it if nobody signs my cast. If I let Sarah and James sign it, Norman will want to as well, and who knows what he'll write?"

"Point taken!" Charlie chuckled. "Don't worry. They're making 'get well' cards for you as well."

At that moment, someone knocked on the closed door. Charlie got up to see who it was.

"You have some visitors, Sam," he announced.

I smiled when I saw Penny, Arnold and Radar enter the room. Radar gave a little whine before he trotted over to me.

"Hello, Radar!" I greeted him, and I began stroking him with my right hand. "Did you miss me?"

"We've all been missing you, Sam," Penny said as she and Arnold came over to me. "How have you been?"

"Aside from not being about to remember much, I'm doing okay," I replied.

"Can you really not remember what happened to you?" Arnold asked.

I shook my head slowly. "I can remember what happened to me earlier that morning, but nothing after I left Pontypandy. I don't even know why I was in Newtown."

"It was because-"

"That's enough, Arnold," Charlie warned. "We're not allowed to tell Sam what happened to him, so that if his memory does come back, he won't be confused by what we've told him."

Arnold looked uncomfortable. "Sorry."

"Take a seat, Penny," I invited, indicating to the armchair Charlie had left vacant. She sat down. Charlie offered Arnold the wooden chair beside my bed. Arnold accepted it, and Charlie remained standing.

Penny handed me a handful of envelopes. "Everyone asked us to bring you their 'get well soon' cards. Would you like a hand to open them?"

"Yes, please. I think I'll need more than one hand."

With Charlie, Penny and Arnold's help, we managed to open all of the cards. Charlie and Arnold set them up on top of the bedside table, where I could see them. Radar sat contently at my feet the whole time. It was like he was trying to guard me.

"It's a shame you can't leave Radar here," I said as I stroked his head. "I really miss him."

"He misses you too," Penny told me sadly. "How much longer do you think you'll be here?"

"Hopefully not too much longer. I can't wait to get home. Now, tell me what's been going on in Pontypandy. I want to know everything."

Penny and Arnold exchanged glances. "Well, not much really. Everyone's been trying to stay out of trouble while you've been here," Penny explained.

"Except Norman." Arnold added. "He managed to get himself stuck on the roof of his mum's shop yesterday. We got him down using Jupiter."

I smiled. "Trust Norman to do something like that! Anything else?"

"Not really," Penny said. "We've just been doing some training exercises."

Training exercises? In my mind's eye, I saw for a brief moment myself climbing a wall of ice.

"Sam? Sam, are you okay?" Penny called.

"Shh!" Charlie whispered. "I think he's trying to remember something."

Stunned, I looked up at Charlie and my friends. "I think… Was I in Newtown doing training exercises?"

Charlie, Penny and Arnold nodded slowly. Smiling, I looked down at Radar. "I guess it won't be long before I remember everything then."

"Don't overdo it, Sam," Charlie warned. "Your mental scars will take longer to heal than your physical ones."

"What on earth do you mean by that?" I wondered.

Charlie shook his head. "Never mind. We should let you rest now."

"Oh, stop it, Charlie," I said firmly. "I'm not tired, and I want to know what happened to me."

"We can't tell you that, Sam," Penny reminded me. "And you do look tired. I'm guessing that this is your first day out of bed, right?"

I nodded. "Sorry. Thank you so much for coming to see me. I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome, Sam," Penny replied. "We're just so happy to see that you're recovering so well. Honestly, we weren't sure what to expect. Station Officer Steele wasn't clear on details."

Radar whined a little when Arnold tugged on his leash. "Come on, Radar. It's time to go home now."

I gave Radar a parting cuddle. "Off you go, Radar. I'll be home in a few days. Then you can sleep on my bed again."

With another reluctant whine, Radar followed Arnold and Penny out of my hospital room.

"I'd better go too, Sam," Charlie said. "Would you like some help back to bed?"

"Yes, please. Although, I really hate feeling this helpless."

"I know. But don't worry. You only have to put up with this until your arm heals."

"But that will be at least another two months!"

Charlie laughed. "Enjoy it while you can, Sam!"

I pouted as Charlie helped me stand up. "That rhymes."

"I'm a poet and didn't know it!"

I swatted at Charlie with my right hand. "Stop it! Stop teasing me!"

"That's my job as your big brother."

Sighing tiredly, I climbed into my bed, and Charlie rolled the I.V. stand next to my bed. He then tucked the blankets around me.

"Get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

I nodded. "Give my love to Bronwyn and the kids."

"I will. Bye Sam." He closed the door softly behind him.

Meanwhile, at the Newtown Fire Station, Chief Fire Officer Boyce was working at his desk, when the phone rang. It was an internal call from the Station Officer.

"Sir, there's a team from the SCIU here to see you again."

Chief Fire Officer Boyce sighed with frustration. "Send them up." He almost slammed his phone down with frustration. He'd been through enough SCIU investigations to know why they'd come back.

Leaving his desk, Chief Fire Officer Boyce went over to one of the many filing cabinets in his office, and he removed a thick file. A small box fell out of the file, and it landed on the floor with a heavy thud. Boyce bent down to pick up the box, knowing exactly what it was. It was one of several Bravery medals that had been awarded to Sam without his knowledge. Boyce wished he didn't have to fight with Sam every time he deserved to receive a medal, but the man was stubborn as well as humble. He knew that Sam would be shocked if he knew just how many Bravery medals he'd really been awarded with over the years. The few that Sam had accepted was only about a third of what had actually been awarded to him. The one that had fallen out of his file was only his latest medal. It had been awarded to Sam after he'd managed to stop Trevor Evan's runaway bus from crashing, by jumping onto it at speed and killing the engine.

Chief Fire Officer Boyce snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a knock on his office door. Peter led the SCIU inside the office, and he closed the door once they were inside.

"I know why you're back," Chief Fire Officer Boyce said. He placed the large file down on his desk. "You may access Leading Fireman Samuel Jones' service file on the condition that it does not leave this office."