When I got back to her she’d got the radiator cap off, and inserted what a Danish friend of mine calls a ‘funeral.’ We poured a little water in…. Luckily I’d warned her to stand clear. The first tablespoonful that went in came straight out again, red hot, and blew the ‘funeral’ sky-high. We waited a few minutes until things had cooled down a bit, but it was no go. As fast as we poured water in it simply ran out again into the road underneath. It was quite evident that she’d been driving with the radiator bone dry and that her engine had seized right up.
I told her so. She said:
‘Does that mean I’ve got to stop here all night?’
I explained that it wasn’t as bad as all that; that is, if she cared to accept the hospitality of my poor roof (and it
I said:
‘Don’t be silly, it’s miles to anywhere.’
However, at that moment we heard a car coming along the road, the same way as she’d come. We could see its lights, too, although it was a very long way off. You know how flat Norfolk is – you can see a terrific distance.
I said:
‘There’s the way out of all your troubles. This thing, whatever it is, will give you a tow to the nearest garage, or at any rate a lift to some hotel.’
One would have expected her to show some relief, but she didn’t. I began to wonder what she jolly well
She was quite peculiar about it. She gripped hold of my arm, and said:
‘What do you think this is that’s coming?’
I said:
‘I’m sure I don’t know, being a stranger in these parts, but it sounds like a lorry full of milk cans.’
I offered to lay her sixpence about it (this was before the betting-tax came in). She’d have had to pay, too, because it
He got down and asked if there was anything he could do to help. We explained the situation. He said he was going to Norwich [3] , and was quite ready to give her a tow if she wanted it. However, she wouldn’t do that, and it was finally decided to shove her car into my garage for the night, to be sent for next day, and the lorry was to take her along to Norwich.
Well, I managed to find the key of the garage, and the lorry-driver – Williams, his name was – and I ran the car in and locked the door. This having been done – (ablative absolute) – I suggested that it was a very cold night. Williams agreed, and said he didn’t mind if he did. So I took them both indoors and mixed them a stiff whisky and water each. There wasn’t any soda. And, naturally, the whole thing had left
Up to now I hadn’t seriously considered the young woman. For one thing it had been dark,
Of course, she wasn’t a – how shall I put it? Her manners weren’t quite easy and she was careful with her English.
And the way she hurried the wretched Williams over his drink was quite distressing; and foolish, too, as
There happened to be a local guide-book in my bedroom, with maps in it. I looked at these and couldn’t help wondering where the girl in the car had come from; I mean my road seemed so very unimportant. The sort of road one might use if one wanted to avoid people. If one were driving a stolen car, for instance. This was quite a thrilling idea. I thought it might be worth while having another look at the car. So I once more unhooked the key from the kitchen dresser and sallied forth into the snow. It was as black as pitch, and so still that my candle hardly flickered. It wasn’t a large garage, and the car nearly filled it. By the by, we’d backed it in so as to make it easier to tow it out again.