Ugh!
Trembling fingers managed the release and the tightness around her chest eased. She crawled from the car, desperate to stand on solid ground. Her feet hit water, right up to her ankles. Cold water that seeped right through her sneakers and socks in seconds.
God, what should she do?
Assess the situation. Her mother’s exasperated words flooded her mind with parental disapproval. She splashed to the front of the vehicle to check the damage. Apart from the nose kissing the far side of the ditch and the gleaming paintwork sporting mud and chunks of grass, she couldn’t see any visible dents.
She splashed back and climbed out of the ditch. It wasn’t a big one, but the banks were too steep for her to get the vehicle out herself. Cassie stood on the road and surveyed the rear of the SUV. The bumper hung at a weird angle, and metal buckled out of shape as if the vehicle scowled at her. The rear doors wouldn’t open in a hurry.
She reached for her phone and realized it was still in her handbag. With a sigh, she started back down the bank. Her right foot skidded in the mud, her arms windmilled but she remained upright. Just. Her giant splash left water dripping from her nose and glasses, obscuring her vision.
“Ugh.” She wiped her hand over her face and carefully removed her glasses to wipe the lenses. That done, she retrieved her handbag and clambered back onto the road.
Her first call was to the rental company to explain her predicament and how the shiny red SUV happened to be sitting in a ditch.
“Someone rear-ended you? I’ll ring the police. They’ll need to do a report. I’ll arrange for one of servicemen to collect the vehicle, but he won’t be able to touch it until you’ve filed a report with the police. Are you injured?” the woman asked belatedly.
“No.”
“Sit tight. I’ll set things in motion.” She hung up.
By the time a police car arrived three-quarters of an hour later, Cassie had composed part of a song about a clumsy single woman in a car crash. She gave her statement to the police officer while attempting to ignore the quirk of his mouth. The muddy water in the ditch had dried on the bottom of her jeans, but she suspected her splashing around had put mud on her face too. Difficult to see without a mirror.
“A truck rear-ended you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you get the registration number?”
“No, it happened too quickly.”
“Make of truck?”
Cassie paused. “Um, a blue truck. Not big like a stock truck, but the type that does deliveries. Bigger than my SUV.”
“Did you see the driver?”
“Not really. It was a man, and he wore dark sunglasses and a cap. That’s all I saw.”
The policeman, probably in his thirties with military-short black hair and bright blue eyes, emphasized by his navy-blue uniform, surveyed the vehicle from all angles, his long legs letting him jump the drain with ease.
“Okay. It’s obvious someone has rear-ended you and I can see traces of blue paint. Sign here.”
Cassie started to say she’d already told him that before she realized the cops were used to people lying to them. Instead of arguing, she scrawled her signature on the statement.
“Here is a copy for you. You’ll need it for the rental company. They told me they’d arranged for a tow.”
“Yes, I don’t suppose you could give me a lift?”
“I’m heading to Clevedon.”
“That’s fine. I can ring my friend from there.”
The rental people arrived, and Cassie retrieved her paint and brushes before leaving.
The policeman dropped her at the café, and her face burned as several locals witnessed her climbing from the vehicle with her box of painting equipment. Even though she’d done nothing wrong, she felt like a criminal.
Her first stop was the restroom at the café. She groaned. No wonder she’d amused the cop.
