The Hitch Hiker by Tim Vicary. Part 2.
Watch on KineScope.
I parked the car, got out, and went over to the man on the ground.
‘Is there anything I can do?’ I asked the policeman.
He looked up, surprised, and then he recognized me. ‘Oh, it’s you, Sue. I think he’s OK. He’s breathing, and his heart’s fine. But I don’t like the look of that leg.’
One of the man’s legs was broken in two places. It looked like there were two knees. He was breathing, but his eyes were closed, and his face was very white.
‘Can you go and help Chris with the little girl?’ he said. ‘I think this man is her father.’
I looked at the little girl. She was trying to walk, but she seemed confused. The policeman was holding her arm. I went over and knelt in front of her. There was blood all over her face. I couldn’t see her eyes very well.
‘Hello,’ I said. ‘My name’s Sue. I’m a police officer. Can you see me?’
She wiped her face with her hand, and nodded.
‘Good,’ I said. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Kate.’
Kate. OK. Kate, you heard that sound just now, didn’t you? That was the ambulance. This policeman, Chris, and I are going to take you over to the ambulance, and then the ambulance men will take you to the hospital and look after you. You’re going to be all right.’
‘But what about my daddy?’
‘He’ll come with you in the ambulance. He’s going to be all right, too.’
I held one of the girl’s arms, and Chris held the other. We took the little girl over to the ambulance and sat talking with her while the ambulance men lifted her father and the other driver into the ambulance. When the ambulance had gone, I spoke to the sergeant for a few minutes.
‘What happened?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know yet,’ he said. ‘I think the first car stopped suddenly, but I can’t think why. Still, that’s something that we’ll have to find out. It’s a funny place for an accident. I can only remember one here before – about twenty years ago, I think it was. That was a nasty one, too. A young man was killed – run over by a car. I remember that a little child was hurt then, too.’
‘What happened then?’
‘He shook his head. ‘I can’t remember now. Anyway, this one’ll be your job in the morning – I’m on holiday next week, remember? Thanks for your help.’
On the way back to the car, I could see one of the policemen. He was picking up the little girl’s doll from the side of the road. He walked over and put it in the police car.
When I got back into the car, the hitch-hiker was still there. He did look very strange – for a moment, I thought he was crying.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘but I hate accidents. Were… were they badly hurt?’
I looked at him quickly. His face was very pale. And… were his hands shaking?
‘Quite badly,’ I said. ‘One had a broken leg, and the young girl had a lot of glass in her face. But I think they’ll live.’
‘Oh, good. I… I’m sorry I didn’t get out, but you see… I hate seeing blood.’
I smiled. That’s all right. I don’t like it either, but I’m a police officer – it’s my job.’
‘Yes. I suppose you see a lot of accidents?’
‘Quite a lot, yes. But it’s funny, I’ve never seen one here before. The road’s very straight and it was clear of traffic, and it’s not dark or anything. A car stopped suddenly, and another car hit it. It’s very strange.’
For a moment my passenger didn’t answer. He just looked straight in front of him, the grey eyes in the pale face staring at the road and the traffic. Then he said, very quietly:
‘Cars do terrible things, don’t they? I hate cars. I hate them!’
I didn’t say anything for a minute. Then I asked him if he had a family in Lancaster.
‘Yes, I have one son. He’s at the University, you know. I’d been there just now, before you picked me up.’
‘Oh, really? Does he like it there?’
‘Yes, I think so. Yes, he likes it very much.’ He smiled at me – the same grey, pale smile. ‘But I still have to look after him, you know. He does silly things, and gets into lots of trouble. He needs me, you know – I’m sure he’d have an accident if I didn’t keep an eye on him all the time.’
That was a very strange thing to say about a son at university. My sister is at the University too, but I don’t think my father knows what she’s doing every day. I don’t think he wants to know – and I’m quite sure she doesn’t want her father ‘keeping an eye’ on her all the time!
But before I could say anything else, we had reached the centre of the town. I stopped the car outside the cemetery.
‘If you want the centre of the town, this is the best place,’ I said. ‘I’m driving home after this.’
‘This is perfect.’ He opened the door carefully and got out. Thank you very much. You’re very kind.’
‘My pleasure.’ I watched him walk away, a short, pale man in that strange, old-fashioned suit. Then I drove out into the traffic and forgot about him.