Indian Mame
Stephen answered the telephone.“Good evening, Stephen, Terry Wilson, sorry to ring just as you’ve come in but I’m afraid I was hit by our friend Gareth this afternoon.”“Were you just! Tell me all.”Terry did so. “I’ve written a statement. What would you like me to do with it, give it to you or hand it in to the police station?”“Let me have a look at it first. Could you bring it round now?”“Yes of course. Grace will be with me as I’m not allowed to drive today because of the concussion. We’ll be with you in quarter of an hour.”“Fine! See you then.”They were warmly welcomed by the Robinsons.“Now the first and most important question: are you allowed alcohol, Terry?”Terry grinned crookedly and a bit painfully. “I doubt a single glass of wine will delay my recovery,” he replied.“Good!” He poured two glasses of red and they all four went into the sitting room where Stephen read Terry’s statement.“Well done,” he said handing it to Angela to read. “However, I reckon a couple of photos would. Sara, Little Bobby, and Morgan looked to be asleep as well. I think it's the first time since I drove them home last Friday that I truly feel free of further difficulties.The time passes quickly, but I had to slowly ease my hand away from Jewels. I hated to remove my hand from her grasp. I missed holding her like that for nearly fifteen years. Still safety dictated that I place my hand back on the steering well of my truck. As the truck nears empty I steer to a gas station to top off the tank. The change in motion or sound awakened my wives; the four of them stretch as I pull to a stop. Opened door for Little Bobby on my side and walked around to open the doors for Jewels, Sara and Megan, handing Jewels $200, I knew she is going inside anyway, if you could please have them turn on the pump I’ll fill it up. Shortly after Jewels walked inside the pump came on, and I begin to pump fuel into my empty fuel tank. When it finished it was over $120 in fuel, I was a little surprised at it.
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