I was uneasy the minute I saw the Police Scotland crown and thistle crest on the envelope. I put the letter to one side, tried to ignore it and then tore it open. My assistance was required with on-going enquiries. I was to report to Chief Inspector Baillie, Edinburgh Division. There was no explanation but I knew it had to do with the accident.
That started me thinking again, the same what ifs. What if I hadn’t gone to the retirement party? What if I had reacted differently? I shouldn’t have gone, I shouldn’t have stayed, I shouldn’t have spoken to Westacott and Macgregor and let them get to me. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t but I did. There was no one I could confide in and I was sick of hearing the same well-intended advice. Don’t beat yourself up about it, I was told. It wasn’t your fault. You can’t change what happened. Life must go on. It was easy to be sympathetic, easy to blithely say what’s done is done but I had to live with the consequences.
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