Sue for Mercy - Veronica Heley Page 0,62

temper now?’ Toby asked, beaming at me over a cup of coffee.

‘Worse!’ I said shortly.

‘Have a drink,’ he suggested. He was intrigued by the shelf of home-made wines in the kitchen. I declined on the grounds that it was too early in the day for me to drink anything but coffee.

‘You haven’t a cigarette?’ he asked.

‘You know I don’t smoke. Anyway, I thought you went for some last night.’

‘Yes, but … I couldn’t get my favourite brand. I went from one pub to the next, but no luck. I told you.’

‘The Swan down the road usually stocks the lot. You must have been drunk …’

‘You know I wasn’t. I was sober when I came back, wasn’t I?’

‘After one and a half hours! All that time to look for cigarettes … Come off it! And that edgy, with it!’

‘I don’t know what you mean!’

‘Bad-tempered. On edge. You might have been apologetic about it …’

‘About what? The dent in the car? Well, I am sorry about it, but I couldn’t help myself. I just didn’t notice that gate post at the end of the lane …’

‘It’s painted white, and has a reflector on it. Besides, you didn’t make that dent by bumping into a gate post. You can see it must have been made by something … well, not something with a hard edge to it, like a gate post.’

‘What, then?’

I shrugged. We were sitting in the big living-room of the cottage, with the front door open onto the yard. Clucking hens bustled between us and my little Mini, sitting full in the sun.

‘Another thing,’ I said. ‘Why should your car be parked under cover, and mine be left outside?’

I stumped out to inspect the damage, intending to change the cars over. Toby followed me, trying to jolly me back into a good humour.

‘Look at it!’ I shrieked. I was buying the Mini on the never-never, and it was the pride and joy of my heart. The nearside wing was badly dented, and this in turn was affecting the cant of the headlight.

‘I said I was sorry! Come on, now. I’m concluding a very big business deal at the moment. In a few days we’ll go back to town together and I’ll buy you a brand-new Mini, instead of this second-hand heap. Then you can have this one broken up for scrap, which is about all it’s good for, if you ask me.’

‘You can’t be serious!’

It seemed he was. Charming, generous Toby. Only I was no grateful yes-woman, ready to cast myself into his arms and tell him that I’d love to have him take care of everything for me. As my mother has always said, I have no tact at all where men are concerned. Besides, I loved my Mini, second-hand or not.

Aware that I was once more jettisoning my chances of marriage, I refused his offer. One part of me was always wanting to swoon at a man’s feet, but the other part wouldn’t allow me to do so. Regretfully, I decided I’d made a mistake in inviting Toby down, and equally regretfully I saw it would be a bad idea to allow him to stay on during the coming week. Now we both knew I wasn’t going to hop into bed with him, the situation would be embarrassing.

‘Just get it repaired,’ I said. ‘And as for staying on here, don’t you think you might find it boring …?’

At that moment the tramp pushed open the garage door and fell into the yard.

I screamed.

I didn’t actually leap for Toby’s arms but he got them round me somehow.

‘Christ Almighty!’ breathed Toby. ‘Where did that come from?’

That uncurled itself and staggered to its feet. One dirty claw was extended towards us while he shielded his eyes from the sun with the other. He was filthy; mud-caked and bloodied. His boots were enormous and without laces. His coat and trousers hung on him in concertina folds, patched and torn, allowing glimpses of brown skin here and there. He might be any age from twenty to sixty, a stunted, stick-like, mop-headed monstrosity.

I’ve always been terrified of tramps. I clung to Toby and begged him to protect me. ‘Don’t let him come near me!’

‘Of course—I’ll drive him away!’ But he took his time about releasing himself.

The tramp’s eye alighted on my car. To tell the truth, he acted as if he were uncertain where he was. He stared at my car as if he were seeing a ghost. From the back he looked even odder