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He smiled faintly. 'Are you always this aggressive? Or is this just the way you cope with shock?'
The ambulance pulled up nearby and men raced towards them. One of them went immediately to David; the other came over to Prue and the other man.
'Hello, Phil,' he calmly said, and the ambulanceman gave him an unsurprised nod, smiling in a friendly way.
'They told us it was you who rang in, Josh! We passed your car back there; it looked as if it was OK. What happened?'
'That guy came over the hill half-way over my side of the road. We both swerved, and I pulled out of it easily enough, not a scratch on either me or my car, but as I was driving on I heard him crash, I reversed until I could see what had happened, rang the emergency services, parked and ran for help.'
'Superman!' Prue said bitterly, and they both looked at her.
The ambulance driver laughed. The other man didn't.
'She was in the car with him,' he said coolly. 'Better take a look at her, Phil. She seems pretty shocked.'
The ambulance driver became very professional; a moment later Prue was in the ambulance, on a stretcher, covered with a blanket, and it was only as the warmth of it got through to her that she realised how cold she was, how her body was shaking. They carried David into the ambulance, and she sat up on her elbow to watch, but he had his eyes shut and they were quickly setting up a blood transfusion. Prue bit her lip anxiously—how badly was he hurt? They wouldn't be giving him blood if he hadn't lost a lot. The only injury she had noticed until then had been the one to his head, but now she saw blood on his shirt and her heart skipped a beat.
'Is he badly hurt?' she asked one of men, and they soothingly said no, he wasn't, but she didn't believe them, the door shut, one of the men stayed beside David, doing something to him. She couldn't see—his back hid David from her—but she was afraid and tears began to run silently down her face.
What if he died? What on earth could she say to his mother and father, who had always been so kind to her, especially since her own mother died? She had brought David over here to Europe! She had talked him into coming up to Yorkshire when he would probably have been much happier staying in London or going over to Paris, as they had planned to do next week. David wouldn't be here if it weren't for her—and she would understand if his family blamed her for this accident! She blamed herself.
When they reached the hospital they were taken to the Casualty department for a while. Prue was seen briefly by a doctor, who seemed satisfied with a quick examination but would not answer her questions about David. After about half an hour she was wheeled away to a female ward, and put to bed.
'Listen,' she said to the nurse looking after her, 'where have they taken David, my friend ... the man brought in with me . . .? I want to know what's wrong with him, I want to see him.'
'He's gone straight to theatre,' the nurse said, and Prue drew a sharp breath, her eyes frightened.
The girl noticed her expression and smiled comfortingly. 'But don't worry, he's in good hands, and I don't think he's badly injured at all.
He's only having a pretty straightforward op. In a couple of hours he'll be tucked up in the ward next door—male surgical—and when you're up on your feet you'll be able to see how he is for yourself!'
'How long will that be?'
The girl looked confused. 'Sorry?'
'Before I'm back on my feet.'
Hesitantly, the nurse said, 'Well, that's not for me to say, it's up to Dr Wilson, but not too long, I imagine.'
'I'm not hurt,' protested Prue. 'A few bruises and cuts, that's all.'
'I wouldn't know, I just work here,' the girl grinned. 'Look, you've got a visitor—can he come in now?'
'A visitor?' Prue was suddenly flushed, and angry with herself for this instant reaction. It had to be that man, of course! In all the flurry of being admitted to hospital she had forgotten about him, and she wished she could go on forgetting. Why had he come? He had been efficient and cool-headed, and she knew she ought to be grateful to him, but something about the man had put her back up.
'Well? Shall I let him in?' the nurse demanded, looking at her with a curious smile, and Prue pulled herself together.
'OK,' she said reluctantly, and the nurse left her. Prue leaned back on the pillows, watching the swing doors of the ward. Why should he come? He had known she wasn't badly hurt, and he couldn't have felt responsible for the accident; his blistering comments on David's driving had made that clear. He surely couldn't have thought she would want him to visit her! He must have realised she was in love with David, even if he hadn't noticed her engagement ring.
Of course, he might have come out of courtesy, or kindness! Prue made a face. She was being very ungrateful, wasn't she? She ought to thank him, not resent him. She owed him that much—and that reminded her! She must make a phone call as soon as possible. She would ask her visitor to help arrange it. It had slipped her mind until now, but she and David were expected, and if they didn't arrive . . .
Her nerves jumped as the ward door swung open, but it wasn't the dark-eyed man who walked towards her, it was a much older man, of a very different type. His thick, reddish hair had turned silvery, his weather-browned skin was lined, he had a faint stoop to shoulders that she remembered as broad and strong—but she knew him at once, in spite of the ten years since they had met.
'Prunella,' he said huskily, standing beside the bed and looking awkward and unsure of himself, and his voice sent a shiver down her spine because that, at least, hadn't altered. She would know that voice anywhere.
'Hello, Dad,' she whispered, stupidly holding out h
er hand as if expecting him to shake it.
