[originaltext]Policeman: Now, sir, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I had to

Policeman: Now, sir, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I had to look after the traffic on the road until some more police arrived. You’re the driver of the blue car, I believe.
Mr Simpson: Yes.
Policeman: Just a few questions, sir. Do you fed all fight?
Mr Simpson: Yes, I’m... I’m fine now. I was a little shaken up at first.
Policeman: Well, I’ll try not to keep you long. I just want a few details, and the rest of the information I can get tomorrow. Can I have your name and address, please?
Mr Simpson: Jeremiah Simpson, 15 Portland Crescent, Leeds.
Policeman: Have you got your driving license and insurance certificate with you?
Mr Simpson: Yes... Oh, here they are.
Policeman: M’ hm... Thank you... Oh... Yes, they’re all right. Now, were there any passengers in the car?
Mr Simpson: Er yes, er my wife and a friend — a young lady. My wife was sitting in the back and her Mend in the front passenger seat.
Policeman: Where are they now?
Mr Simpson: The ambulance has just taken them to hospital. You spoke to the ambulance driver before he set off. Did he say anything about the young lady?
Policeman: He said that her injuries looked worse than they really were. The other woman -- that’d be your wife, I as same -- appeared to be suffering from shock.
Mr Simpson: Yes, I know. They advised her to go to hospital for a cheek-up, just in case...
Policeman: Mm. Was the young lady wearing her seat-belt?
Mr Simpson: No, unfortunately. I told her to put it on, but she couldn’t adjust it. I didn’t think it was worth stoppin the car because we were only going a few miles.
Policeman: Did she go through the windscreen?
Mr Simpson: No, she was very lucky. But she hurt her leg on tile dashboard
Policeman: Mm. It could’ve been much worse. Now, sir, will you tell me in your own words what happened?
Mr Simpson: Oh... Well, as you can see, I was travelling along this main road when suddenly er the other car came out of er that side street. It all happened so quickly. I just didn’t see him until he hit me.
Policeman: I’ve just spoken to the other motorist and he says that you were speeding.
Mr Simpson: What?
Policeman: Is this true?
Mr Simpson: That’s a lie. My wife and Becky’ll tell you that I stopped at the pedestrian crossing just down there. You can see it’s only fifty yards away. I could hardly have reached thirty miles an hour by the time I got here. Goodness knows what would’ ye happened if I’d been going faster.
Policeman: The other driver said that he stopped at the junction. When he pulled out there was nobody coming, so you must at the junction. When he pulled out there was nobody coming, so your must have been speeding.
Mr Simpson: Well, it’s not true. I’ve witnesses to prove it. He couldn’t have stopped. The lighting is very good here along this stretch.
Policeman: Yes. He should have stopped. Why did you stop at the pedestrian crossing?
Mr Simpson: There were two old ladies on it. I’m always a bit careful with old people because they’re likely to walk across the road without looking properly.
Policeman: I shouldn’t worry, sir. We don’t think you were speeding—even without measuring the skid marks.
Mr Simpson: Er, was he -- er, the other driver — drunk?
Policeman: I don’t know yet. He’s admitted that he’s trod one or two drinks, but says it was only two half-pints. We’re going to give him a breathalyser test to see whether he’s over the limit. If he is, he’ll be asked to have a blood test.
Mr Simpson: Well, I haven’t touched a drop all night !
Policeman: No, sir. It’s surprising how much a driver’s breath smells even if he’s only had one drink. Well, sir, I don’t think I need to detain you say longer.  We shall want written statements from you, your wife and the young lady tomorrow.
Mr Simpson:  es...What’ll happen to my car? It’s obvious that with that badly-damaged wheel I shan’t be able to drive it.
Policeman: We’ll have to take some measurements of the skid marks and the positions of the cars. We’ll arrange to have it towed away when we’ve finished. If you ring the police station tomorrow, they’ll tell you what to do.
Mr Simpson: Thank you very much.
Policeman: Oh, er, by the way, is the young lady staying with you?
Mr Simpson: No, she’s a friend of my wife. She’s staying at the Station Hotel. Her name is er Becky Softe. She has a friend with her and she’ll need to be told about the accident, I suppose. I— I don’t know...
Policeman: We’ll see to that. I expect you’ll want to go to the hospital to see how your wife is.
Mr Simpson: Yes, er I must go there now. I told my wife to wait there until I could collect her in a taxi. I hope they don’t keep her in.
Policeman: If you feel well enough, you can get a taxi just around the next comer.
Mr Shnpson: Yes, I’m fine. Goodnight.
Policeman: Goodnight.