The chaotic scramble of flung-back chairs and knocked-over wine glasses could only have taken a second or two, but in that time I did something really dumb: I turned to look back through the window at the approaching car. Still coming way too fast, the vehicle, its engine roaring like a banshee, erratically straddled the centre line of the road, heading straight towards the bend – and the front of the restaurant – with no sign of slowing down.
And that stupid moment, when I stopped to check the car’s approach, was when Matt lost his grip on my shoulder. When I turned my horrified face back from the window, I saw that he and Cathy were already some distance away. I stumbled forwards to follow them, but somehow when leaving, Matt’s chair had been knocked over and was now wedged firmly against the pillar beside me. My exit was blocked.
Frantically I pushed at the fallen wooden obstacle, succeeding only in wedging it further between the edge of the table and the pillar.
‘Rachel!’ screamed Sarah at the top of her lungs. ‘Get out of the way!’
Gasping in terror, I knew that from where they stood they must be able to see the car heading straight towards the window, beside which I was now trapped. I pushed and kicked at the chair with every ounce of strength, fear and adrenalin coursing through me, until the sounds of the restaurant diminished and all I could hear was the roar of the blood in my ears.
In desperation I looked up to Matt, and saw him begin to move back towards me and then, unbelievably, Cathy grabbed his arm and held him back.
‘No, Matt, no! There’s no time! You’ll be killed.’
I heard that all right, and crazily part of my brain, the part that wasn’t busy trying not to let the rest of me get killed, even had time to absorb what I’d just seen Cathy do. If she thought I was going to let that pass, she was very much mistaken.
But then another noise screeched out from the street behind me, as finally, for the first time, the speeding car began to apply the brakes. Still thrusting uselessly at the fallen chair I glanced behind me for the last time. Yes, the car was braking, but it was much too late.
The sight of the speeding vehicle was growing ever larger in the window, so close now that I could make out the frightened face of the young driver, his eyes wide in terror as the inevitable approached.
I never saw him coming. He must have moved at incredible speed to get to me. One moment I was trapped in this tiny space between the fallen chair and the window, and the next two strong arms had appeared from across the table and fastened onto my own like a vice.
How he found the strength I never knew, but Jimmy literally hauled me out from where I was trapped and over the top of the table. I caught the look on his face as he dragged me across the clothed surface, mindless of the scattering bottles and glasses as I ploughed through them. His eyes were filled with indescribable fear and the tendons of his neck stood out like cables with the effort he was using to pull me towards him.
I grabbed onto him, trying to help, my feet scrabbling frantically over the cloth to propel me forward. Then from behind us I heard an ominously loud thump as the car left the road and mounted the pavement.
Jimmy threw me. That’s the only way to describe what he did. One minute I was half across the table and the next I was lifted up, launched and thrown like a rag doll, slithering down to the floor some feet beyond the head of the table. But that act of impossible strength and bravery had taken up the last precious milliseconds between the car leaving the road and crashing into the restaurant.
Jimmy was still standing directly in the path of danger when the window exploded behind him.
The first thing I felt was the heat. Something heavy was over my legs, trapping them under a weight of pain that burned like fire. And there seemed to be water everywhere, thick, salty water running freely down from my forehead, over my cheeks, into my eyes and mouth. I tried to cry out, but no sound came. There was nothing left in my lungs but smoke-filled whispers of vapour. Someone was screaming behind me, someone else was crying. I tried to turn my head and realised I couldn’t see properly with the sticky wetness blocking my vision. Tentatively I raised one hand to my head and attempted to rub my eyes. The hand came away covered in a slick red gauntlet of blood. All around me was a mountain of debris, so thick and dense I couldn’t see beyond it to where the crying and screaming people were. The car was also blocking my view, half in, half out of what had once been the window, it was impossible to see what was left of the mangled vehicle, as the air was thick with a dense fog of smoke from the engine and disintegrated masonry from the front wall. I felt the shroud of glass over and under me and knew I must be lying among the remains of the window.