irritable masculine voice exclaimed. “ Run out of juice, I suppose—just like a woman. I ’ ll notify a garage for you. ”
“ No! ” she shouted as he seemed about to drive on. “ There ’ s been an accident. My—my husband ’ s hurt. ”
“ Oh, that ’ s different, ” he said, and backed his car into the side of the road. When he got out he revealed himself as a stocky, middle-aged man with a bustling professional manner that was vaguely familiar, and Lou was not at all surprised when he said: “ You ’ re in luck, young lady. I happen to be a doctor. ”
Lou, who in the past had seldom found luck to be so accommodating, accepted with composure the fact that the spoilt Piers Merrick would never be seriously incommoded, even by an accident.
“ What a blessing, ” she said. “ I—I think he ’ s just knocked himself out on the driving mirror, but he ’ s got a nasty cut. ”
The doctor shot her a quick and slightly puzzled glance. She appeared to him to be very young and, in the circumstances, unnaturally calm.
“ H ’ m ... ” he grunted. “ Let ’ s have a look. ”
She stood watching while he bent over Piers, probing and examining, fetched his bag from the car when he called for it, catching the smell of antiseptic as he cleaned and dressed the wound.
“ No very serious damage, I think, but we ’ d better get him to the hospital. That cut must be stitched, ” he said straightening up. “ There may be a bit of concussion. I ’ ll go on ahead and send back an ambulance. You ’ re not hurt yourself? ”
“ No—no, I don ’ t think so. What is the nearest town? I mean I — I haven ’ t an idea where we are. ”
“ Lexiter ’ s only five miles on. ”
“ Lexiter? ”
“ Lexiter in Wiltshire. Where were you making for? ” he asked impatiently.
“ I—I don ’ t know, ” she answered, and as he saw the sudden blankness in her eyes, his scrutiny became professional again.
“ Can ’ t remember, eh? Sure you didn ’ t get a crack on the head? ”
“ Quite sure—and it isn ’ t that I can ’ t remember. I just never knew. ”
“ H ’ m ... ” he grunted again, a suspicion beginning to form at the back of his mind that this was a rather odd set-up. The girl was years younger than her husband, if indeed he was her husband, she kept tugging at her mink coat as if the feel of it was unfamiliar, and his trained eye noticed the newness of her handbag and the luggage piled in the back of the car. At that moment, however, there was a movement from his patient, and he turned back quickly.
“ He ’ s coming round, ” he said. “ Hand me that bottle of sal volatile, please. ”
“ Damn cats! ” said Piers distinctly, and opened his eyes.
“ Here, drink this, ” the doctor said, and smiled a trifle grimly when his patient grimaced with distaste and demanded something stronger.
“ Not if there ’ s any chance of concussion, ” he replied, puzzled by something familiar about the man ’ s face. “ There ’ s been a slight accident and you knocked yourself out. How do you feel? ”
“Damn silly! I remember now. A cat streaked out of the hedge and I tried to avoid it.”
“Never avoid animals when you’re driving,” the doctor said automatically. “You might have killed your—er—wife.”
Piers did not seem to notice the hesitation, but his eyes became alarmed.
“Lou—where is she? Is she all right?” he exclaimed, and Lou, leaning in from the open nearside door said rather tremulously:
“I’m here, Piers. I’m not hurt.”
He put out a hand to touch her, feeling the dampness of rain on the soft fur of the coat.
“ Poor Cinderella ... ” he murmured. “ What a typical ending to the day for you. ”
The doctor cleared his throat, more certain than ever that something odd was going on, then memory , suddenly clicked into place. Piers ... ah, the recent build-up in the gutter press ...
“ Aren ’ t you Piers Merrick? ” he asked sharply,
“ No! ” she shouted as he seemed about to drive on. “ There ’ s been an accident. My—my husband ’ s hurt. ”
“ Oh, that ’ s different, ” he said, and backed his car into the side of the road. When he got out he revealed himself as a stocky, middle-aged man with a bustling professional manner that was vaguely familiar, and Lou was not at all surprised when he said: “ You ’ re in luck, young lady. I happen to be a doctor. ”
Lou, who in the past had seldom found luck to be so accommodating, accepted with composure the fact that the spoilt Piers Merrick would never be seriously incommoded, even by an accident.
“ What a blessing, ” she said. “ I—I think he ’ s just knocked himself out on the driving mirror, but he ’ s got a nasty cut. ”
The doctor shot her a quick and slightly puzzled glance. She appeared to him to be very young and, in the circumstances, unnaturally calm.
“ H ’ m ... ” he grunted. “ Let ’ s have a look. ”
She stood watching while he bent over Piers, probing and examining, fetched his bag from the car when he called for it, catching the smell of antiseptic as he cleaned and dressed the wound.
“ No very serious damage, I think, but we ’ d better get him to the hospital. That cut must be stitched, ” he said straightening up. “ There may be a bit of concussion. I ’ ll go on ahead and send back an ambulance. You ’ re not hurt yourself? ”
“ No—no, I don ’ t think so. What is the nearest town? I mean I — I haven ’ t an idea where we are. ”
“ Lexiter ’ s only five miles on. ”
“ Lexiter? ”
“ Lexiter in Wiltshire. Where were you making for? ” he asked impatiently.
“ I—I don ’ t know, ” she answered, and as he saw the sudden blankness in her eyes, his scrutiny became professional again.
“ Can ’ t remember, eh? Sure you didn ’ t get a crack on the head? ”
“ Quite sure—and it isn ’ t that I can ’ t remember. I just never knew. ”
“ H ’ m ... ” he grunted again, a suspicion beginning to form at the back of his mind that this was a rather odd set-up. The girl was years younger than her husband, if indeed he was her husband, she kept tugging at her mink coat as if the feel of it was unfamiliar, and his trained eye noticed the newness of her handbag and the luggage piled in the back of the car. At that moment, however, there was a movement from his patient, and he turned back quickly.
“ He ’ s coming round, ” he said. “ Hand me that bottle of sal volatile, please. ”
“ Damn cats! ” said Piers distinctly, and opened his eyes.
“ Here, drink this, ” the doctor said, and smiled a trifle grimly when his patient grimaced with distaste and demanded something stronger.
“ Not if there ’ s any chance of concussion, ” he replied, puzzled by something familiar about the man ’ s face. “ There ’ s been a slight accident and you knocked yourself out. How do you feel? ”
“Damn silly! I remember now. A cat streaked out of the hedge and I tried to avoid it.”
“Never avoid animals when you’re driving,” the doctor said automatically. “You might have killed your—er—wife.”
Piers did not seem to notice the hesitation, but his eyes became alarmed.
“Lou—where is she? Is she all right?” he exclaimed, and Lou, leaning in from the open nearside door said rather tremulously:
“I’m here, Piers. I’m not hurt.”
He put out a hand to touch her, feeling the dampness of rain on the soft fur of the coat.
“ Poor Cinderella ... ” he murmured. “ What a typical ending to the day for you. ”
The doctor cleared his throat, more certain than ever that something odd was going on, then memory , suddenly clicked into place. Piers ... ah, the recent build-up in the gutter press ...
“ Aren ’ t you Piers Merrick? ” he asked sharply,
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