he said huskily. ‘Dottie.’
Dottie was both shocked and surprised. ‘Dr Fitzgerald!’ she cried as his other hand squeezed her thigh gently.
‘Just a kiss,’ he was pleading. ‘One little kiss.’
His face was right in front of hers and his mouth was open. She could smell his whisky-soaked breath. She turned her head away and dug him in the ribs with all her might. Her bag fell to the floor and everything spilled out. ‘Get off me,’ she hissed. ‘How dare you!’
The wipers were still going and through the windscreen she could see the curtain in Ann Pearce’s bedroom moving. They didn’t get many cars in their street so obviously the sound of a motor drawing up had brought her to the window. The doctor accidentally touched the car horn and the loud and sudden noise seemed to make him come to his senses.
‘Oh God …’ he began. ‘Mrs Cox, I’m sorry …’
As he slumped back in his seat, Dottie scrambled to get out of the car. The door swung open and the light went on. As she stepped into the road, she looked up. Ann let the curtain drop, but Dottie knew she’d seen everything. Breathless and still panicking, she ran up the path. Behind her, the doctor’s car turned around in the road and drove off into the night.
She burst through the back door into the darkened kitchen and slammed it behind her. Thank God, Reg must still be at the pub. Heaven only knows what he’d do if he found out. Putting her head back, she leaned against the door and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Dirty old man …’
‘Dot?’
She jerked open her eyes and jumped a mile high. She swung round to see a dark shape in the chair. Dottie put the back of her hand to her mouth and let out a small cry. She fumbled for the switch by the door and the room was flooded with light. It was Reg. He had a bottle of beer in his hand and as he rose to his feet, the only thing that registered in her mind was the deep frown on his forehead.
‘What the hell happened? You look as white as a sheet.’
Dottie felt herself sway slightly. She hadn’t expected Reg to be sitting here in the dark. She wished now that she hadn’t put on the light. She must look a right mess.
‘Dot?’ he said again.
She felt her mouth open but nothing came out. She was shaking. He was going to be angry with her, she knew he was. She never should have accepted the lift. And yet she’d been in the doctor’s car hundreds of times and he’d never so much as looked at her. Not in that way, anyway.
He came slowly towards her. She still had enough of her wits about her not to tell Reg what had happened. He was the type to do something stupid and face the consequences later.
‘What’s that all over your skirt?’ he accused.
She glanced at her clothes. Lumps of half-eaten wedding cake and salad cream hung from her dress and she had a big blob of egg on her stocking.
‘I … I …’ she faltered and swayed again. She felt sick. Whether it was the sight of the pig food or the memory of what had happened she wasn’t sure. The room was going round and round.
He grabbed at her arm and she flinched.
‘Come and sit yourself down,’ he said kindly. ‘You’ve obviously had a shock.’
Now she was bewildered, confused. Doctor Fitzgerald’s actions were hard enough to deal with, but it was a long time since Reg had been so considerate.
‘Did something frighten you?’ He had his head on one side and was looking at her for an explanation.
‘Yes,’ she said quickly. ‘Yes, that’s it. Someone came up behind me and I dropped the bag of pig food.’
‘Pig food?’
‘Mrs Fitzgerald gave me the plate scrapings for the pig, but I dropped them.’
‘Who came up behind you?’ he demanded. ‘Did you see him?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said touching her forehead with her hand. She felt something cold and gooey; looking at it, she saw, she’d got pig food on her hand as well.
‘I saw an old tin full of tea on the windowsill today,’ he snapped. ‘Have
Dottie was both shocked and surprised. ‘Dr Fitzgerald!’ she cried as his other hand squeezed her thigh gently.
‘Just a kiss,’ he was pleading. ‘One little kiss.’
His face was right in front of hers and his mouth was open. She could smell his whisky-soaked breath. She turned her head away and dug him in the ribs with all her might. Her bag fell to the floor and everything spilled out. ‘Get off me,’ she hissed. ‘How dare you!’
The wipers were still going and through the windscreen she could see the curtain in Ann Pearce’s bedroom moving. They didn’t get many cars in their street so obviously the sound of a motor drawing up had brought her to the window. The doctor accidentally touched the car horn and the loud and sudden noise seemed to make him come to his senses.
‘Oh God …’ he began. ‘Mrs Cox, I’m sorry …’
As he slumped back in his seat, Dottie scrambled to get out of the car. The door swung open and the light went on. As she stepped into the road, she looked up. Ann let the curtain drop, but Dottie knew she’d seen everything. Breathless and still panicking, she ran up the path. Behind her, the doctor’s car turned around in the road and drove off into the night.
She burst through the back door into the darkened kitchen and slammed it behind her. Thank God, Reg must still be at the pub. Heaven only knows what he’d do if he found out. Putting her head back, she leaned against the door and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Dirty old man …’
‘Dot?’
She jerked open her eyes and jumped a mile high. She swung round to see a dark shape in the chair. Dottie put the back of her hand to her mouth and let out a small cry. She fumbled for the switch by the door and the room was flooded with light. It was Reg. He had a bottle of beer in his hand and as he rose to his feet, the only thing that registered in her mind was the deep frown on his forehead.
‘What the hell happened? You look as white as a sheet.’
Dottie felt herself sway slightly. She hadn’t expected Reg to be sitting here in the dark. She wished now that she hadn’t put on the light. She must look a right mess.
‘Dot?’ he said again.
She felt her mouth open but nothing came out. She was shaking. He was going to be angry with her, she knew he was. She never should have accepted the lift. And yet she’d been in the doctor’s car hundreds of times and he’d never so much as looked at her. Not in that way, anyway.
He came slowly towards her. She still had enough of her wits about her not to tell Reg what had happened. He was the type to do something stupid and face the consequences later.
‘What’s that all over your skirt?’ he accused.
She glanced at her clothes. Lumps of half-eaten wedding cake and salad cream hung from her dress and she had a big blob of egg on her stocking.
‘I … I …’ she faltered and swayed again. She felt sick. Whether it was the sight of the pig food or the memory of what had happened she wasn’t sure. The room was going round and round.
He grabbed at her arm and she flinched.
‘Come and sit yourself down,’ he said kindly. ‘You’ve obviously had a shock.’
Now she was bewildered, confused. Doctor Fitzgerald’s actions were hard enough to deal with, but it was a long time since Reg had been so considerate.
‘Did something frighten you?’ He had his head on one side and was looking at her for an explanation.
‘Yes,’ she said quickly. ‘Yes, that’s it. Someone came up behind me and I dropped the bag of pig food.’
‘Pig food?’
‘Mrs Fitzgerald gave me the plate scrapings for the pig, but I dropped them.’
‘Who came up behind you?’ he demanded. ‘Did you see him?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said touching her forehead with her hand. She felt something cold and gooey; looking at it, she saw, she’d got pig food on her hand as well.
‘I saw an old tin full of tea on the windowsill today,’ he snapped. ‘Have
Similar Books
