A few years ago, when moving from Edinburgh to London, Kevin and I hired a van from Capital Car and Van Hire in Easter Road. I chose them because they offered a discount deal via Scottish Gas where I was working. Great! I thought, so off we went to get our van.
We were presented with a somewhat beat up Fiat Ducato, sans radio and most other comforts. But it did seem to have the essentials, such as wheels (oh my, if I’d only known…), engine, steering wheel, seats and brakes (a bit ’soggy’, but sort of working). A Very Friendly David Sim offered us additional insurance ‘to cover all bases’ so that if anything were to happen we would incur no extra costs – it would indeed be covered. (oh my, if I’d only known…)
We loaded up and headed for London. Things seemed to go swimmingly, and as the traffic was floating along quite nicely, us along with it, I decided to overtake a rather slow-moving lorry just outside Darlington. I gave it plenty of time, let other cars pass to make sure I had loads of space behind me before pulling out and accelerating to 60mph (not even near the speed limit here!) to pull past the lorry. Suddenly the steering wheel started juddering madly and I said to Kevin ‘that was a waste of effort as I think we’d better pull aside and check this…’ whoomph! we were only just past the lorry when I lost the steering and the brakes all at the same time. We veered madly across all lanes, scattering a load of traffic cones set up to cordon off the left lane, no amount of trying to steer had any effect. I screamed (very useful) and Kevin said, unusually calmly ‘it’s ok’. Strangely, as long as I kept screaming and he kept repeating ‘it’s ok’ we knew that we were still alive. Even if that now seemed unlikely to last with that enormous concrete bridge looming up ahead and me having no way of purposely not hitting it.
Multitasking with brake-pumping (nothing) turning the steering wheel (nothing) and screaming (loudly) I went for the last option open to me; I pulled he handbrake. HARD.
The van spun around 180 degrees, lurched briefly, then keeled over onto its side. The sheer momentum kept it sliding in the same direction, but at least now it went in a straight line, on its right side, in the centre lane. I have no idea how far it slid, but it seemed like a long way to go with sparks flying and in a spray of broken windscreen. Then it stopped. We were facing the lorry with a fan of cars and other vehicles behind it just standing there, staring at us.
Oh, the silence. The sound of my own heart beating so hard it hurt my ears.
The lorry driver and his two sons came running towards us screaming at us to get out! There was liquid coming out of the engine! I thought – ‘that’s water from the radiator’. How sensible I was to remember that, and that the van also had a diesel engine. Kevin fumbled with the seat belt (wear them! they’re life-savers!) and tried almost successfully not to fall on top of me before undoing my belt for me; I couldn’t get to it. The lorry driver tried to break the window on Kevin’s side having jumped on top of the left side now facing the heavens, but his kids had discovered that the windscreen was gaping towards the front and pulled it open for us to climb out. I thought, my hearing returning, ‘the engine is still running’ so I leant forward and turned it off and put the key in my pocket. Kevin had the presence of mind to grab a bag with a few essentials before crawling out, then I was pulled out, dazed, in what seemed slow motion. I saw my mobile phone lying on the ground unscathed, picked it up and walked to the side of the road.
From then on things unfolded mostly without our input. The lorry driver confirmed that he had seen the rear left wheel of the van fly off and us swerve out of control. At least five people called the emergency services and the fire department came and covered the van and all our things in foam. The police came to sort out the traffic and three ambulances came to pick us up. To the first two we insisted that we were fine! nothing wrong with us at all! And Kevin said; now we’re the ones that they talk about on the traffic reports; ‘overturned white van on the A1…’
And then I called Capital Car and Van Hire to report the accident.
The next thing I knew I had David Sim on the phone screaming at me (boy can that man be loud!) that as far as he was concerned I had ruined his fucking van and they were gonna fucking get me! What an eloquent charmer. I tried to get the insurance details, but he had hung up. Though I had not smoked in several years, I accepted the cigarette offered by a bystander. I was shaking visibly. Kevin was quietly holding me. The third ambulance insisted on taking us to hospital for a check-up. I think they just wanted to use the sirens and drive really fast because that’s really cool.
At the hospital we were given the most commonplace treatment in the UK; a cup of tea. Amazingly, neither of us had more than minor bruises.
While there, a police officer came to take a statement, headed off by the information that everything I said could be used in a possible court case. Great. I was the criminal who had hired an un-roadworthy van – on purpose – and wilfully suffered the falling off of the rear wheel… the questions and the treatment baffled me. I gave him the keys for the van.
We were then informed that we would have to find a hotel, hire another van and pick up the remnants of our things at a recovery place the next day to continue on to London. If Kevin hadn’t picked up his bag we would have had no way of doing this.
On arriving at the recovery place there was another delay as the police photographer was in full swing taking pictures of the sad remnants of the van and the sad remnants of the contents, now with foam and large footprints on duvet covers and other things that had been available for a good stomping – there’s nothing like a thorough moving accident for clearing out your cupboards. Rescue people are not exactly overly concerned with the fineries of preserving the victims’ belongings. The photographer promised me some prints once they were done with the pictures, but 6 years later there is still no sign of them. I don’t bear grudges! At all. At least not against him…
When he was done we were left to ourselves. New van, old van, all our broken stuff… we both just sat there for a while, totally overwhelmed by it all, finally realising how close we had been to death. Transferring what was rescuable to the new van was almost indescribably hard. We were both completely drained by the events, by being screamed at by David Sim, by being treated like suspects by the police, by all our ruined things, by not being able to obtain any useful information with regards to the insurance — by still being alive. And once the van was loaded one of the hardest things I have ever done was to get behind that wheel and drive the rest of the way from Darlington to London. Funny thing was, the new van, a long wheelbase Mercedes, was brand new and a fair bit cheaper than Capital’s vans… and it had a radio.
I spent a good two weeks trying to get the insurance information from an ever-increasingly hostile and abusive David Sim and ended up having to ask the Darlington police to call him for me. He was, of course, all sunshine to them and supplied the requested details. Only thing was, when I contacted the insurer I found that the van was only insured to be parked at the side of the road. Not for driving.
For various reasons this case has never gone to court, no charges have been pressed by us and no compensation therefore received. Kevin and I have both been left with flashbacks and a general feeling of dread around driving (which I cured on my own part the following year by riding the same route on my motorbike – Edinburgh-London) and whenever I think of the accident I feel such a hatred well up in me against the people at Capital Car and Van Hire I’m amazed I never did hire those hit-men to take them out… But no. The bastards are not going to win this one by turning me into a criminal.
But one never forgets something like this for nothing fixes a thing so intensely in the memory as the wish to forget it. And I now know that we’re not the only people who’ve been at the receiving end of that man’s dodgy dealings. I’m not glad that others have suffered too, but I am glad not to be alone.
The above link is for another blogger who has been victimised. He also warns:
“Is the problem getting worse? The same company operates another website. I just noticed that “Edinburgh Car&Van Rental” seems to be (a) new name for the same or a related company. As of 25/05/2007, the website Edinburghcarhire.com is registered by a David Sim with an e-mail address from capital-carhire.co.uk.
Be warned.”
(links put in by me, Ine)
Additional links put in on 14 and 16 June 2007, more warnings against the company:
http://community.livejournal.com/edinburgers/1414606.html#comments
You deserve justice.
Of course, every person who feels wronged feels that way, but you need closure.
In a first-world country, you should not be traumatised by such an ordeal. The mind is scarred by such disillusionment of self-determination, and leaves one bitter. I know first-hand.
Though I’m afraid to press further with these crooks until the formal dispute process is finished (as they DO have my credit card information), I would encourage a class-action lawsuit (I believe that’s what it’s called in this country) against David Sim personally. If I recall correctly, limiting shareholder liability still does not allow your company to NEARLY KILL PEOPLE.
I’m sure with not much effort the former customers of Mr Sim & Co can be collected to press charges (and share costs of litigation– which would be more than what one individually would get out of it)
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