The windows were open, and I am surrounded by green stuff. Broken branches, sheared tree roots, a few pink flowers hanging desolately from crushed stems. I start to swear, because the situation seems to call for it. I’ve just let out an especially ripe string of curses when I hear a voice.
“Hey! Are you all right?”
It’s a man, and obviously a stupid one.
“No, I’m not all right!” I yell back. “I’m stuck in this damn car!”
I follow up with another set of f-bombs, and if the air could actually change colour, it would definitely be blue.
I hear laughter from outside. Annoying.
“Yeah. Right. I’m guessing that you’re doing fine, or you wouldn’t have the energy to swear like that. I’ve called for help, won’t be too long. What’s your name?”
“None of your effing business!”
“Oh. It’s like that, is it? Do you have a head injury or are you always this rude?”
“Both! And… well, it’s Connie. My name is Connie.”
“Is it really Constance?”
“Only when I’m naughty.”
“That’s probably a lot of the time, I suspect. Look, Connie, I’m going to try and prise open the door with a crowbar, okay?”
“Why do you have a crowbar?” I ask, suddenly a bit concerned. I am in the middle of nowhere, and not a soul knows where I am. “Do you have duct tape and rope as well?”
“I do, as it happens, but don’t worry, Constance – I’m trying to help you, not abduct you. I’m a man who likes peace and quiet, and I don’t think I’d get much of that with you around.”
I can’t help but smile at that, despite the circumstances. He’s dead right.
I hear him clamber down into the ditch, but all I can see of him from this angle is his hands and arms. He goes to work on the door, but nothing happens apart from some horrible grinding sounds.
“Constance, I can’t get it open – do you want to wait until someone comes with a truck that can hoist the car out, or do you want me to smash the window?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re a smash-the-window kind of girl.”
I smile once more. He’s dead right again. I tell him to go for it, and he instructs me to cover my eyes and look away.
Within seconds he’s broken the glass, and used the crowbar to clear the frame of any jagged shards. He leans down to peer inside the window, and when our eyes meet I literally lose my breath.
He is gorgeous. Blonde hair, diamond-blue eyes, tanned skin. Crinkly laughter lines that finish me off. He’s not my normal type. He doesn’t look like a bad boy. He looks decent, and kind, and strong. Like he spends a lot of time outdoors, and lives healthily. He’s wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and his arms are lean and muscular. Maybe he’s a farmer, or a surfer, or an angel. Yeah. That’s it – maybe I’m actually dead, and this is heaven.
He grins at me, making those laughter lines crease, and I feel dizzy – in a good way.
“I’m Simon,” he says, reaching in and offering his hand. “Do you want me to get you out of there? The sides of the ditch are pretty steep, and I’m not sure you’re dressed right for a climb.”
I glance down at the pink mini-dress, and the stupidly tall wedge heel sandals. No. I’m dressed for nothing good at all.
“Yes please,” I murmur, leaving my fingers in his. “I just need to find my new bag. It’s Louis Vuitton.”
“I’m sure that means something, but let’s concentrate on you first, okay? The bag can wait.”
I want to argue. I want to swear at him, which is my usual response to anybody telling me what to do – but I don’t. Something about his calm, open face and his confident manner quells all of that. It’s as if the fire that’s normally raging inside me is being smothered by this good Samaritan with the bright blue eyes.
He double-checks the frame for glass, then uses the crowbar as a lever to loosen the seatbelt. It’s like he’s been in thissituation a thousand times before. He then tells me to reach out towards him. Being skinny is finally good for something, and I easily slither through the window. Simon scoops me straight into his arms, cradling me against his chest. He frowns as he looks at me, and says: “That’s a nasty cut, Connie. Let’s get you somewhere safe, shall we?”
