My friend Debra passed away four years ago now .... she was a lovely lady who I only knew for a short time but we shared many good times together and I wish that we could have shared more - we shared a memorable Christmas 'do' at the Russian Restaurant in Exeter, the first Christmas we worked together, drinking flavored vodka, we shared a very amusing evening at the Firehouse drinking nameless gin and we shared a few evenings at Oldtimers putting the world to rights - we also spent time at Michael Caines drinking Champagne where she entertained me with stories of her previous life as an arms dealer ...ok,  she worked for the Armaments department of the MOD but she did travel extensively around the world and it was fun to introduce this five foot cockney lady as a gun runner.
Now, you may recognise a theme in these recollections, and yes, we did like to share the odd small Amontillado if the occasion called for it.

So the Christmas before she left us, we decided to meet up for a meal before the year ended.  We arranged to meet at 12.30 and I, having taken the whole day off and it being a Friday, decided to have my hair done and was wearing a faux fur coat as it was cold and icy and had snowed the previous week . Definitely first impressions were 'Ladies that Lunch' - if only. I can't completely remember where we started but feel it commenced with the best intentions, with a small glass of bubbles in the Champagne Bar of Abode.  We continued with the full intention of finding somewhere to eat but after Coolings and Oldtimers and The Angel and Chaucers, lunch didn't seem to be as important anymore.

By around 7 o'clock we were a little 'tired and emotional' OK! OK! we were legless ... not appropriate for ladies I know but we didn't see each other often and we were fully capable of getting ourselves home safely, as we had proved on many occasions but it does seem that the weather was against us and the melted snow had turned to ice on the pavements.  So as we made our way along the High Street, speech seemed pointless and our sole intention was to reach our respective bus stops, Debra was slightly ahead of me so her fall was, as is often the case, a slow motion event unfolding in front of my eyes, her legs went up and she went down on her bottom, I rushed to her aid, and bent forward to help her up, when my feet went from under me. The next voice I heard was someone saying 'Oh my god - Don't move - there's lots of blood' and I answered ' Why? wheres Debra and whats happened to her?'   But when I looked up there seemed to be a crowd around me looking down at me, and insisting that I didn't move.  So realising that I had perhaps hurt myself, I kept still but continued to ask about the welfare of my friend. Within seconds it seemed that an ambulance turned up and took me to the hospital, I still didn't quite realise what I had done to myself but the ambulance men were very insistent that I remain still. I continued to ask about my friend as she wasn't with me, I thought she must be in another ambulance recovering from her fall, but there was no answer.

Once I arrived at the hospital, the nurse informed me I had a head injury and told me that I needed the expertise of a Maxio Facial specialist to stitch me up.  I realised that I wasn't exactly ok - and my question - 'Is it bad?' was met with a slow nod and 'Yup!'
After about three hours I was collected from hospital by my eldest son after 7 stitches to the bridge of a broken nose, and an additional diagnosis of a fractured skull and fractured cheekbone.

That might be the end of the story but what happened to my friend Debra, she wasn't in the hospital and the staff said they had no record of her being brought in.  I took it that she had been told to return home and was waiting for news so Nick 'my son' rang her house to tell her that I was in hospital but OK. Her partner was somewhat surprised to receive the call and said that Debra had returned home, staggered upstairs and was sleeping soundly and snoring loudly.

I was discharged from hospital and went home and later on that weekend, I went to see Debra, who was mortified to see my blackening eyes and the hole in my forehead,  it appears she had stood up from her fall, brushed herself off and oblivious to the events unfolding behind her had teetered down the High Street to catch her bus safely home.

Who needs enemies eh?

I miss her, her infectious sense of humour, her outlook on life and know that she would have smiled had she joined me at the Rugby Club dinner the following weekend where I displayed bruises that any front row would have been proud of.