Driving FORCE

It was clear her mum needed some convincing – and Emma was more than willing to step in!

- Jo Cole

We could grab a pub lunch at Exeter Quay and enjoy the sunshine,’ I said to Mum, while we sipped tea in my kitchen. It was my day off and we always spent it together.

Mum gave me one of her stares. ‘Only if you drive, Emma.’

She knew my ploy – I was trying to get her back behind the wheel. So far, it wasn’t working, despite all my cajoling.

However, she hadn’t given up on me years before and now it was my turn to be the driving force – the one who didn’t give up. And I had a trick up my sleeve to help her conquer her nemesis, Telegraph Hill.

The rain had battered my windows the night I received the phone call.

‘Hi, Mum,’ I’d said, answering while chopping onions for spaghetti bolognese. ‘You OK?’

‘I’m calling from the hospital,’ a woman replied.

I put down the kitchen knife and switched off the gas hob, my body trembling.

‘I’m sorry to tell you this… but the owner of this phone… Your mum, I presume…’

‘Yes, that’s right, this is my mum’s phone.’

‘I’m sorry, but… she’s been in a car accident.’

My shaking intensified. ‘Is she OK? Please tell me she’s OK!’

‘She’ll be fine. She had a knock to the head. She skidded off the road at Telegraph Hill. She’s broken her tibia. She’ll need looking after. We’ve given her something for the pain. She’s groggy, but you can visit.’