I got in beside him, clutching the bag. After the flurry of activity, I found myself reacting to the shock; I felt cold and queasy. I heard the rasping breath of the man in the back seat. I looked up into the mirror—no monk—and then behind me at the man.
I shone the light from my phone on him to see if his eyes were open and realized his head was bleeding. I realized something else as well: The man was Lennie.
“Oh, Lennie,” I said to him, biting back tears now. “I’m so sorry.”
He grunted. I didn’t know if he was replying to me or if he was just in pain.
“It was an accident,” I said. “Really. We’ll get you to a hospital and get you patched up. You’ll be as good as new.”
He stared at me; he looked unconvinced.
I tried to cheer him up. “I can help while you’re in hospital. I can run errands. I could water your houseplants if you have any. Do you have a pet? I could feed it. I could walk a dog. I volunteer at thedonkey sanctuary.” I used to. I looked after a donkey who was also called Daisy, but she left to be a companion to a race horse and I never bonded with another donkey in the same way, so it petered out.
Lennie continued to stare at me, the blood trickling close to his eyes.
I remembered we had a cloth in the glove box for wiping the windshield with. I took it out and gave it to him to stanch the flow. He didn’t seem to know what to do with the cloth, either that or—worse—he wasn’t capable, so I had to twist myself round and hold it there for him.
“Would you like me to phone someone for you?” I asked.
“No, he would not,” James butted in. “He wouldn’t want people to see him like this. He wouldn’t want to worry them.”
“Wouldn’t you?” I asked Lennie. “Most people would.” Although truth to tell, the last person I would want if I’d been in an accident was James. I wouldn’t want him hanging about, asking if it was time to switch off the life support yet.
I waited for James to turn the car round and head back toward town, to A&E, but, headlights on low beam, he continued away from Great Beadington, toward Upper Iffley and Langley Hall.
“The hospital’s the other way,” I whispered.
“Daisy, what are we going to say at the hospital? We found this man in the road, and just by coincidence, our headlight is smashed, so is our windshield, there’s a dent in the bonnet, the bumper’s come off, and we’ve both been drinking. And whatever else we haven’t noticed yet.”
I hadn’t thought about that, but I was sure that, if we did the right thing, we could still smooth it over. Accidents happened, mistakes were made. That’s what the coroner said last time.
“The best thing would be to get him into the house and have a proper look at him,” James continued. “He might not need to go to hospital at all.”
I looked back at Lennie, doubtful.
“Look how fat he is,” James said. “I expect all that blubber cushioned the impact.”
“His breathing doesn’t sound very good.”
“I bet he’s like that all the time.”
I would have bet he wasn’t, but I kept my mouth shut as we approached the house.
Once the car was safely parked in the garage, I tucked Lennie’s bag under one arm and we hauled him back out of the car and into the house, not an easy job to do in a cocktail dress and heels. I fell halfway across the drive.
James snapped at me, “Stop messing around!”
We dragged Lennie to the drawing room and laid him out across the dust cover over a chaise longue, his bag on the floor next to it. He lay, shivering, his eyes half-closed, his skin pale, but the blood didn’t look so bad now, just a cut on his forehead, and no broken limbs sticking out at sharp angles.
His eyes opened fully and he began to speak. I couldn’t hear what he was saying.
“Water?” I guessed. “I can get you some water.”
He tried to speak again.
“Cup of tea?” I tried. “You look cold.” I draped my jacket over him. “Are we going to call an ambulance now?” But I knew from the look James gave me that the answer to that was no.
“Why don’t you go and get the first aid kit?” he asked me.
