and through the broken windscreen saw stones strewn across the bonnet. The car was on the wrong side of the road, a disintegrated wall splattered over it. She extricated herself from her seat, went outside to join Abby. The whole front end on the driver’s side was crunched in, a tangle of steel and exposed innards. The two sisters gazed at it.
‘That looks bad,’ said Ellie.
‘You reckon?’ snapped Abby. ‘What the hell did you think you were doing, attacking me like that?’
‘I’m sorry.’
Abby cut her a fierce look and went back to the car. Ellie watched as her sister brushed the broken glass off the driver’s seat, then got in and attempted to start the engine. It turned over sluggishly, then not at all.
‘Brilliant,’ said Abby, smacking the steering wheel. ‘Just brilliant.’
Ellie walked over and stood next to Abby by the driver’s side. ‘I said I was sorry.’
‘Sorry isn’t going to make this car start!’
‘You’ve cut yourself,’ said Ellie, pointing at her sister’s hand. ‘Here.’ She pulled out a pack of cosmetic wipes from her bag, peeled one off and handed it through the open window to Abby. Abby hesitated, then took it and dabbed at her hand. The cut wasn’t deep and was already clotting.
‘Why do you buy these things when water does just as good a job?’ said Abby, of the wipe.
Ellie bristled; she knew what was coming. ‘Because you never know when you might be in a car crash and a bottle of water isn’t readily available?’
‘It’s another example,’ said Abby, still dabbing, ‘of not being smart with your money.’
For God’s sake! Ellie could feel the irritation rising up in her. Even now, right here, straight after an accident, Abby could put her down. She wrestled to find a comeback, but could think of none.
‘Give it back.’
Abby looked up. ‘What?’
Ellie held out her hand. ‘Give it back.’
‘What, this?’ Abby was waving the soiled wipe in disbelief.
‘Yes, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to have it.’ Ellie leaned over to grab it but Abby pulled away.
‘You’re not serious.’
‘Deadly.’
‘Don’t be stupid.’
‘That wipe saved your bacon and all you can do is . . . complain and not recognize when spending a few quid can actually have a profound effect on your life.’
Abby was trying not to smile. ‘Profound?’
‘You know what I mean.’ Ellie pulled a face at her sister. Then sighed; it was all too exhausting. ‘What do we do now?’
Abby considered. ‘The car’s fucked,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ agreed Ellie.
Abby got out and, shutting the driver’s door, she looked up and down the road. Then she walked to the back of the car. She popped the boot and took out the holdall and suitcase she’d put in there earlier.
‘I guess we walk,’ said Abby. ‘See if we can find a village or something.’
Ellie nodded, then the two sisters, the late sun on their backs, continued along the road.
SIXTEEN
‘I think I can see a house,’ said Ellie, pointing up ahead. They had been going for forty minutes and she was ready for a break. Her right leg was tingling with pins and needles and she knew she needed to rest before it became too difficult to walk.
‘Hallelujah,’ said Abby. She strode on ahead, Ellie following, and within a few minutes they had crossed a small stone bridge into a hamlet where a smattering of houses led to a restaurant. Peering in at the windows, they saw it was closed, the chairs stacked up on the tables. Abby gazed around the streets. It was quiet. They were in that no-man’s-land time that fell post lunch and before the day’s heat had waned. Then they saw a movement in the distance. A figure walked across what looked like a garage forecourt, weaving between several cars before disappearing into a hut-like office.
‘Bingo,’ said Abby softly.
The girls headed over. Abby tucked her bag behind a wall and placed Ellie’s suitcase next to it. ‘Don’t want any awkward questions,’ she said. Then she went over to the office and opened the door. Ellie stayed outside and, sitting on the wall, she rubbed her leg, trying to ease the numbness.
She gazed around the forecourt. There were only a dozen or so cars, mostly Fiats, although a black Alfa Romeo Spider had pride of place right at the front of the plot. It gleamed in the sunshine – a car that had attitude. There was a sign propped up on the dashboard that was visible through the windscreen. It was for hire at an astronomical amount.