ICE

What a strange sight they must have been; sitting there on the bright, upright couch, barely an inch between them.

Richard clung to Jeremy's hand - where had these nerves suddenly come from? For six weeks he'd co-hosted his own live show, now he wasn't sure he was able to face a recorded interview in front of a small, caring audience hidden for now behind four mobile television cameras and an army of studio managers and technical crew.

"Rich?" James' arm - hooked behind his shoulders, over the back of the couch, his hand came up to stroke the back of his chilled neck. "Are you okay?"

He was shaking - he could feel it. He felt sick. But he nodded tightly, squeezing Jeremy's hand so tight he thought he might break a bone or two.

Jeremy didn't seem to care. He was squeezing back, saying, "We don't have to do this, any of it. We can walk away, or we can just talk about the accident."

Graham took his seat to their right, leaned forward - eyes wide - and asked genuinely, "Are you okay?"

"Yes." They'd got on well - he and Graham - when he'd been on the show. A lifetime ago. Not much chance of getting that back when he couldn't do a short, simple interview without being flanked by the two men his life had shifted to revolve around.

It had all happened too fast; life a rollercoaster that had raced out of control.

He didn't remember much about the accident - it had been caught on camera and he knew the images were so vivid for Jeremy and James that it played back like a film in their heads shot on digital. He hadn't watched it - didn't want images to go with his only clear memories.

The sound of ice breaking, like the shattering of stained glass, a noise that reverberated some nights around inside his skull, keeping him awake, triggering panic attacks. The feel of cold water against his skin always froze him in place, causing his pulse his race as the recall of that heart-stopping shock sliced through him.

Breaking glass - the single squeeze of his heart - the screams of his friends a million miles away. And then nothing, until the rhythmic bleeping of a ECG and the soft sound of James' voice reading the latest Porsche road tests to him.

Jeremy and James were always there for him, to hold him, to reassure him.

He could only hope his now-permanent presence in their bed was reassurance enough for them.

That, and a courage he'd found deep within himself. A week in an intensive care unit in hospital in Oslo's, a week at the mercy of London University Hospital's finest, and the first thing he'd done when they'd released him was take the new Jaguar XK out on their track near Guildford. Back behind the wheel - where he'd needed to be just in case he'd lost his nerve.

So it wasn't an icy lake in Norway. The tarmac couldn't open up and swallow him whole without warning. He couldn't lose control, skid out onto a patch of grass that couldn't hold the weight of a two ton car.

So good though - that feeling of triumph - so good that Jeremy and James had been there to share it with him. So good that the hug had come from nowhere.

A hug captured on a camera phone by a passing journalist and sold to the gutter press with headlines that made something incredible sound so sordid.

The fights had been the worst. And when he'd thought he was going to lose the two men he had fallen very much in love with he'd reached a low the likes of which he'd never known before. He'd gone out on his bike, pushed himself and his machine to their limits.

And failed to even scrape his knee.

He'd moved into James' place two days later.

Surprisingly the BBC had stood behind them, likely still waiting for the lawsuit to be brought for the accident in Norway. This interview on Graham Norton's show was the one and only they'd agreed to give. Top Gear started filming the following week; if Richard could pull himself together in front of an audience for long enough.

"It's not exactly bewildering that women see more than men," Graham was saying - somewhat randomly - and it was a moment before he realised they were recording. "But it took four years for these three men to find each other." They were recording. "And it took what could have been a tragedy. For six weeks, Richard Hammond co-hosted a television show focusing on the courage and lives of ordinary people. Two months ago, he and his fellow Top Gear presenters had to find their own courage. Ladies and gentleman, Jeremy Clarkson, James May and Richard Hammond."

The applause actually soothed his jarred nerves and taking a deep breath, he loosened his hold on Jeremy's hand.

"Is it true," Graham asked him, "that you actually died out there...?"