‘No,’ he replied quickly. ‘Did you?’
‘I couldn’t see anything – what with the glare of those headlights, and being so scared. Oh, it was horrible!’
She covered her face with her hands.
‘Don’t upset yourself, darling,’ said Wyatt. ‘At least, we’re sound in wind and limb.’ But he was wondering how they were going to get back to the inn from this isolated spot.
‘I think we’d better make for the nearest village,’ he decided at last. ‘We’ll never find Tyson’s place now.’
He stopped speaking and sat up straight, his head turned towards the road. After a couple of seconds, he could hear a car approaching.
‘Wait here, Sally,’ he said, getting to his feet, and hobbling a few steps towards the road.
‘Lionel! Don’t leave me!’ she begged.
‘We must try to get a lift, darling,’ he urged, ‘and this might be our only opportunity. I won’t take any chances.’
He squelched his way up the steep incline towards the road and peered anxiously at the oncoming car. There was nothing for it but to take a chance, so he stepped cautiously a couple of yards into the roadway and waved his arm with an air of urgency. With a sense of relief, he heard the car slow down, and he was even more pleased to note that the driver was a woman.
‘Hello, there! What goes on?’ called an attractive feminine voice with just the trace of a Canadian accent. Wyatt stepped up to the car and got a closer view of the woman at the wheel. As far as he could judge in the half-light, she was about thirty years old, with a considerable amount of self-assurance. From her shadowy outline, he somehow sensed that she was well dressed.
‘I’m most awfully sorry to stop you like this,’ he began to apologize, ‘but we’ve had an accident.’
She took in his bedraggled appearance with a swift glance.
‘You look kind of wet and miserable,’ she nodded. ‘Did you say an accident?’
‘Yes, my car went over the bridge here.’
‘Over the bridge! Say, is anybody hurt?’
‘No, no, we had rather a lucky escape. My wife is rather badly shaken, but I think she’ll be OK.’
‘Over the bridge!’ she repeated in quiet amazement. ‘I didn’t think they did that sort of thing, except on the movies.’
‘Well, apparently they do,’ said Wyatt with a little laugh. ‘Could you please give us both a lift into Shorecombe? I assure you we’ll replace your upholstery if these wet clothes do it any harm. By the way, my name is Wyatt …’
‘Wyatt?’ she echoed quickly. ‘Not Lionel Wyatt?’
‘That’s right,’ he nodded.
The girl said:
‘But I was on the way to see you, Mr Wyatt.’
‘To see me?’
‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘It’s quite a coincidence our meeting like this.’
‘It’s certainly rather unconventional – I’m afraid I don’t know your name or—’
‘That’s soon settled. Allow me to introduce myself, Mr Wyatt. My name is Fraser. Doctor Gail Fraser.’
Wyatt said quietly:
‘Doctor Fraser!’
She turned sharply.
‘Anything wrong? You seem very surprised.’
‘That’s putting it mildly,’ he assured her.
‘Don’t I look like a doctor?’
‘I wouldn’t like to say. Anyhow, that’s not what I was thinking.’
‘What were you thinking, Mr Wyatt?’ There was a note of challenge in the slightly husky voice. Actually, Wyatt was wondering if she was the driver and this was the car which had forced them over the bridge.
‘Why did you want to see me?’
She leaned back in her seat and eyed him shrewdly
‘Well, now,’ she said, ‘that’s quite a story. Much too long to tell at the moment. Let’s pick up your wife and go back to Shorecombe, then we could all have a drink together at the pub after you’ve changed into some dry clothes.’
‘Yes, that’s a good idea,’ agreed Wyatt at once.
‘Will you need any help?’
‘No, no, Sally will be able to walk all right,’ said Wyatt, descending the sharp incline beside the bridge. He found Sally had already walked somewhat painfully up to the parapet, and had been listening to odd snatches of the conversation.
‘It’s all right,’ he whispered encouragingly. ‘She’ll take us back to Shorecombe.’
He gave Sally his arm, and they moved slowly towards the car. Doctor Fraser had already opened the back door and they climbed in rather painfully.
‘This is my wife – Doctor Fraser,’ Wyatt introduced them. Sally gave a tiny exclamation, but Wyatt squeezed her hand quickly, and she contrived to turn it into a polite greeting.
‘We are very grateful to you for giving us a lift,’ said Sally. ‘We seem to have been waiting hours, and there hasn’t been a soul passing by.’
Doctor Fraser expertly engaged the gears and they moved smoothly towards Shorecombe.
After they had proceeded in silence for almost a mile, the doctor said suddenly:
‘I know it’s no business of mine, but would you say that affair of yours was an accident?’
‘Certainly not,’ replied Wyatt promptly. ‘We were quite deliberately forced off the road.’
Doctor Fraser nodded thoughtfully.
‘Now who,’ she mused, ‘would want to do a thing like that?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine, Doctor,’ replied Wyatt. ‘Are you surprised to hear of all this?’
A tiny smile played around the shapely mouth.
‘I don’t surprise very easily, Mr Wyatt,’ she assured him. She did not offer to pursue the matter, but switched the conversation to the subject of avoiding chills.
‘I’ve got some tablets in my case, Mrs Wyatt. You must take a couple and get your husband to do the same when you go to bed. And a glass of hot whisky might help.’
‘Are you staying at Shorecombe?’ asked Sally.
‘No, I booked a room at the North Royal Hotel in Teignmouth – it’s only twenty minutes away by road. You can phone me there if you get any after-effects of this little adventure.’
When they arrived at the Silver Fleet, Doctor Fraser insisted on helping to put Sally to bed and examining her bruises, which she pronounced to be superficial and in no way serious. Then she went downstairs while Wyatt changed into a more presentable suit. He found her waiting for him in the back parlour.
‘You look a different man now,’ she greeted him.
‘I feel like two different men. I was glad to get out of that suit. I hope you’ll excuse my wife, Doctor.