Gareth was reeling in shock from the initial accident.
He had run over a hitchhiker, and he had no choice but to watch as the young woman hit the bonnet of his red Ford Mustang hire car, somersaulted from the windscreen onto the roof, and landed on the road at the back of his car.
"FUCK!" He yelled, immediately stomping on the brake pedal.
His heart was racing as he put the car into neutral, pulled on the handbrake and put on his hazard lights, the last thing he wanted was to run over her again.
Wasting no time he ran to the back of the car and knelt beside the hitchhiker's unconscious body, with his phone in his hand.
Shakily he dialled 000.
As he waited for someone to answer, he felt for a pulse on the woman's wrist. There was still one there. "Oh thank God!" He breathed a sigh of relief.
The last thing he needed was to be charged with manslaughter, Nicole would never let him forget it.
"Emergency services, which one do you require?"
"An ambulance please, I just hit a hitchhiker," He said shakily, the rain had saturated him, but he didn't care.
"Do you know your location?"
He quickly looked around, he wasn't from the Gold Coast, he was originally a Perth boy.
"I was heading back to my accommodation at Surfers Paradise, I was coming from Burleigh Heads, I think I'm at Broadbeach. She was trying to cross the highway when I hit her."
A few cars had stopped after noticing the unconscious hitchhiker.
He suddenly felt the rain stop, looking up, he saw a man holding a large umbrella over him and the woman.
"Thanks, mate." He forced a smile.
"You're on Southport Burleigh Road, on the corner of Sara Avenue" the man helped him out.
He repeated where he was to the emergency responder.
"Is the victim breathing? Do they have a heartbeat?"
"Yes, she's lying on the road behind my car, it looks like her leg is broken and she's got a nasty gash on her right arm."
"We are sending an ambulance out now, can you tell me your name? We'll have to send police units out as well."
"My name is Gareth" He tried his hardest not to slur.
"Have you had anything to drink tonight, Gareth?"
He was caught red-handed, and now he prayed that the responder or the people that had stopped didn't recognise him.
A multiple Australian Motor Racing Champion should never be drinking and driving.
If this got into the news, his career was all but over.
"I have had a few yes." He couldn't lie.
He heard her typing on her keyboard in the background.
"Is she still unresponsive, Gareth?"
"Yes, but she is breathing, her airways are clear." He answered, "I'm not sure if she has neck or spinal injuries due to the way she landed at the back of my car."
He heard her typing on her keyboard, "Okay Gareth, the ambulance is about five minutes away, because you've told me you suspect a possible spinal injury I need you to keep her neck as still as possible. Instead of tilting her neck, use the jaw thrust technique: place your hands on either side of her face and with your fingertips gently lift the jaw to open the airway, avoiding any movement of her neck, and continue to check that she is breathing. Please stay on the line until the ambulance arrives."
"Thank you."
"So it is you?!?" The man holding the umbrella exclaimed as the ambulance finally arrived.
"The ambulance is here, am I right to end the call?" He asked, ignoring the man.
"Yes, thank you Gareth, and may I remind you never to drink and drive again!"
"Gareth Canmore, six-time champion, in Australia's top motor racing category." The middle-aged man just wouldn't let it go.
"Look, mate..."
"Boy, you seriously fucked up tonight, mate! Hate for the media to get a whiff of this!" The man's tone had turned nasty and threatening.
"All right, what do you want?" He wasn't about to give this asshole an autograph and a selfie when he had just run over someone.
Their conversation was cut short when the paramedics came onto the scene.
"Please give up some space to work, gentlemen," one paramedic said.
Gareth moved out of the way, and also to get away from the man that had confronted him.
When they brought her back into consciousness, they treated her sprained ankle and dressed and bandaged her arm. Her leg wasn't broken but they used a spinal board for precautions in case she did have spinal damage. She also had a nasty bump on the back of her head.
"Some fucking asshole ran me over! Wasn't the fucker looking?" She sounded intoxicated herself.
A drunk hitting another drunk, what a story that would make.
"Please calm down miss," one of the paramedics said calmly. "You could be disorientated and have a concussion."
Gareth bit his tongue.
If she wasn't trying to cross a busy highway without using the pedestrian crossing at a set of lights like she should have in weather as bad as this, he wouldn't have hit her in the first place.
He was known on the grid for always speaking his mind.
He was feared and respected but wasn't a driver to cuddle up to fans for photos.
He didn't see the man with the umbrella, sneak his phone out and snap a couple of shots of the drunk, dishevelled commentator, looking at the woman on the stretcher.
The police had arrived and he discreetly snuck his phone back into his pocket.
"Would you accompany us to the station, Mr. Canmore to answer a few questions please?" An officer asked.
He had no choice, he was in the wrong for negligence caused by drunk driving, and wholly at fault.
As he followed the officers, the man who had been holding the umbrella hollered after him.
"You're a pathetic excuse for a man, Canmore!"
YOU ARE READING
Changing Lanes
Romance46-year-old retired Australian race car driver, Gareth Canmore has just gone through a messy divorce. While everything seems calm and in control to the public, his private life is an absolute nightmare. Having two teenage children with his ex-wife...
