His Lordships Daughter (21 page)

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Authors: Brian A de'Ville,Stewart Vaughan

BOOK: His Lordships Daughter
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Jumping to the ground she opened a farm gate and drove her vehicle carefully through the thick mud into a large open field. She wanted to check the ditch at the bottom, many times she and Steven had jumped their horses there. It was one of their favourite gallops.

The ground was sticky, even though the car made short work of its task, she could feel the wheels slipping and skidding as the engin
e growled with
disapproval. Nearin
g the ditch she stopped and got
out, her eyes speedily taking in the gale ripped oak which had fallen across the grassy banks of the trench. It was really a
soak away
to trap surface waters running from the fields. In summer it would be dry but in winter was prone to flash flooding. Today was no exception! Walking the full length of the dyke, she was just about to return to the car when something fluttered and caught her eye. Immediately stopping, she stared at the flood, but it just shimmered and glinted back. A burst of wind battered the surface, denting the water, pushing the ripples against the bank. Then she saw the torn sleeve of a riding jacket. Stepping onto the fallen tree, she slowly edged herself further across the swollen fosse. The trunk was wet and greasy and she had difficulty in maintaining her balance, but, precariously she neared the opposite bank. Placing her feet carefully, she was just bending down when Steven’s pain filled face stared back at her. The shock of seeing him nearly knocked her from the tree. Staggering back in alarm, she managed to keep herself from falling into the water by straddling the trunk with her legs.

“Dear god!” she said loudly. “He must have been knocked from his horse!” she spoke to him but only his eyelids quivered
. Bending as far as possible she caught hold of his collar, trying to pull him into the comparative safety of the bank, but he hardly moved. Then she saw his left leg, trapped under the fallen tree!

Removing the anorak from her shoulders, she pushed it under his head and tied the sleeves to a small hanging branch, lifting his head clear of the rising water. Steven opened his eyes and gazed at her.

“Your blue blooded whor
e at your service sir!”
   introducing
herself, a hard glint in her eye, as, wobbling dangerously, she managed a small curtsy.

The wind hurled flurried snow at them. Steven stared at her, the pain in his eyes deepening as he shook his head. “I’m sorry!” he whispered, “My leg is broken, you will have to move the tree!”

Carefully moving back to the bank, Phyllipa nodded and for a few minutes stood there looking at her task. There was no time to go looking for help. The water level was rising by the second. Returning to her car, she opened the boot hoping there may be something which would help her with the tree. She didn’t really know what she was looking for, but she got quite excited at the sight of a length of rope. It was old and covered in oil, but with a little bit of luck, it may do the trick. The only other thing which was in there, in addition to the spare wheel, was a foot pump.

Taking the rope, she tied it to the tree, then backing her car close to the edge of the trench, hitched the loose end to the tow bar at the rear of the car. Starting the engine, she slipped it into second gear, easing the vehicle slowly forward, carefully taking up the slack of the line, but the wheels started spinning on the sodden grass, skidding the car sideways. Pumping the accelerator, asking for more power, the car suddenly shot forward, but was immediately braked as the frayed end of the rope flew through the air. Cursing, she saw it had broken. Shaking her head in dismay she inspected the tree, it hadn’t moved!

“Damn! Damn! Damn!” she shouted “I can’t move the bloody thing!” stepping from the car, she looked around helplessly, thumping the side of the vehicle in frustration. Then she looked at Steven again as her stomach turned over. Walking backwards and forwards shaking with furious anger, she gradually bought her temper within limits, then slowly pulling great gulps of air into her lungs, calmly returned to the back of the vehicle.

Working methodically, she took the spare wheel from its cover and removing the car from the valve released the air from the tyre until it was flat, then holding it firmly, jumped into the trench, gasping at the coldness of the water hitting her body as it swirled around her legs. Knowing the bottom of the ditch had been gravelled the previous year, she dropped the wheel into the water, rolling it as near to the
trapped leg as it would go, and
wedged it upright under the tree.

It took valuable time squeezing the flat tread of the tyre between the trench floor and the angle of the fallen oak. But, finally grunting with satisfaction she returned to the car to get the foot pump. Her clear brain was telling her she only had to lift the obstacle a fraction to get Steven free. So, hooking the air hose up to the valve, she rested the pump on the tree. Pulling herself up with it, only to find that standing upright and working the pump at the same time was extremely difficult. But, slowly the tyre began to swell. Stopping pumping, she looked at her handiwork
, then jumping back into the water, worked it by hand and watched the rubber bite into the rough bark of the tree. She knew that speed would be essential when the oak moved, frightening her that once the tyre was fully inflated, the dead weight may cause it to roll.

Her eyes were on Steven when the tree creaked loudly and shifted slightly. The pump was now taking a lot of her strength to work, causing her shoulder muscles to ache from the strain. Then, quite suddenly, the tree lifted causing
the wheel to move, but she
was on an all station alert. Plunging her hands into the freezing water, she grabbed Steven’s leg, snatching it clear as the stricken oak, propelled by the inflated tyre, popped like a cork from a giant champagne bottle, shooting it further up the dyke. Quickly she released his head from the safety of the anorak before the tree rolled to a dead stop, creating a wave of water which showered down on them. Phyllipa didn’t even notice, her body was way past the “I’m freezing cold!” time. She was numb, soaked to the skin with ice loaded water. Breathing a huge sigh of relief, she tried pulling her ex boss from the water, but he was heavy. Puffing, blowing and cursing she sl
owly edged him to the bank,  E
x
hausted by her efforts joined him for a few minutes on the grass while she regained her breath. Looking at her wristwatch, then at the dark sky still brimming with angry snow clouds, she inspected her charge. He was pale and his body was shivering. Massaging his face with her hands, his eyelids fluttered as he muttered something incomprehensible. Wearily getting to her feet, she lay the anorak on the wet grass, rolled Steven’s body onto it, then grasping the sleeves hauled him slowly to the passenger door of the Aston Martin. Owing to the height of the door still, getting him into the car was going to be difficult. Phyllipa gnawed at her bottom lip as she desperately sought the answer.

Walking back to the ditch she reluctantly jumped
into the water once more and recovered the spare wheel. Rolling it back to her car, she lay it down, then mustering the last of her strength, dragged Steven on to it, then pushed him up into the seat, tied the seat belt around him.

Making sure he was comfortable, she threw the spare wheel back into the boot, then dragging her tired body, sat behind the steering wheel, started the engine and slowly drove back to the road. But, progress was difficult owing to the conditions and she needed what little strength remained to keep the car moving over the snow covered grass but gradually reaching the field gate, the vehicle passed through on to the road. Picking up speed, Phyllipa continually shrugging off the cold that was now creeping over her entire body, headed for the motorway.

It was the quickest route to the Cottage Hospital. She could have taken Steven back to Rosewood, but a telephone call for an ambulance might have lost valuable time. Turning the car heater to full blast, she nudged the car through a roundabout, flashed down onto the arterial, joining the traffic. It was busy but not overcrowded as she put her foot down, increasing her speed. Her passenger was muttering to himself with his head on his chest. With her left hand, Phyllipa checked the tension on the seat belt, sighing with relief that all was well.

Moving the car into the overtaking lane to get past a thirty ton truck who was hogging the middle one, she became aware of flashing lights behind her. Flipping the rear mirror with her hand to cut the dazzle, her foot went further into the throttle. The speedometer was touching ninety five when the car re-joined the centre lane but now the flashing lights were on her right plus a metallic voice ordering her to pull over on the hard shoulder.

“Damn it!” she cursed, pulling the car to a halt as she watched the police car creeping up behind. “This is not the time to get nicked for speeding Phyllipa.” Lowering the window she greeted the patrolman. “I’m in a hurry!” she protested “You certainly are!” He agreed opening his notebook as he peered
inquisitively into the car. “Ms
Gore isn’t it? I thought I recognised the car.” The sleet was belting his face, building puddles on his collar.

Phyllipa breathed a sigh of relief. He was the local copper, known to her family. “My companion is injured! It is vital that I get him to hospital as quickly as possible.” She told him. Putting his notebook back into his pocket, the patrolman walked round the car to the passenger side as Phyllipa opened the door for him. “He’s cold.” He said looking at her injured friend. Going to his own vehicle, he returned with a blanket which he pushed around Steven’s shoulders. “
T
hat should keep him a little warmer, what happened?”

“I’m not quite sure
.”  She
replied, pulling the blanket tighter around her passenger. “But I think an oak tree fell on him! His leg has gone and he is rambling a bit, but he is still alive, thank god!”

The police officer looked closely at her. “You are soaking wet.” He said returning to his car again. Phyllipa bit her lip in frustration, she wanted to get on. Finally, coming back he handed
her a blue police anorak. “
p
ut this on.” Phyllipa eased her painful shoulders into it, glad of the warmness. The patrolman pointed to his car. “Stick on my tail, I’ll get you to the hospital and my control will alert the medical people at the hospital. Stay close!”

Phyllipa
followed him, marvelling at the way the two cars could get through traffic as quickly as they did. Any congestion faded away through sheer authority of the flashing blue lights, and it only appeared to be a relatively short time before they were pulling up at the hospital entrance and Steven was being
wheeled away on a stretcher.

Gratefully sinking into a chair in the hospital lounge, Phyllipa rested her face in her hands. Somewhere in her life, she concluded, she had probably been as tired but she couldn’t remember when.

“You look cold!” A voice said, as a soft blanket was hung around her shoulders and a warm towel was placed in her hands. Phyllipa looked up into the face of a smiling nurse. “Here drink this!” A large beaker of hot coffee was thrust into her hands. “I think it’s a large brandy which I need.” The nurse rummaged in a drawer of her desk. “Purely medicinal!” She explained, producing a bottle and topping up the coffee with cognac.

Phyllipa felt the golden liquid almost reach her feet as
she gratefully drank it. thanks
! I needed that.” She
murmured
, closing her eyes.

The nurse was vigilant, and
was familiar with the tell-tale signs of someone pushed past their physical capacity. Moving quickly, her ready hands grabbed Phyllipa as she slipped from the chair to the floor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 20

 

A pale moon cut through the window of Phyllipa’s bedroom. She wriggled her body under th
e sheets, opening her eyes, and
closed them again as the pain from the cuts and bruises signalling their dislike of any sort of movement.


U
rgh
!” She
murmured
“Am I alive?”

“Very much so!” A voice answered.

“Opening her eyes again, she saw the anxious face of her father peering down at her. How do you feel?” she sat up wincing again from her aching limbs. “First how is Steven?”

“He had a comfortable night!”

“Good!” she ran her h
ands through her hair. “I’ve
  a few bruises and I ache in places that only god has seen.” She looked at her hands covered in red
weals
and cuts. “There are sore.” She complained, inspecting her fingernails. “Just look at them! Apart from all that, I’m one hundred percent.”

“You had me worried.” Her father admitted.

“How did I get home?”

“One of the hospital ambulances brought you.”

She
groaned “Oh! That means my car is still at casualty!”

“It’s in the garage, I had it collected.”

Once more she closed her eyes, stretching the sore muscles as they wrenched at her body. Pulling her parents face down towards her, she kissed his cheek
. “Please get lost father! I’m getting up!”

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