'Where's the phone? I think you should see a doctor as well as the police,' he said, then walked away, probably having caught sight of the phone in the corner.
Liza struggled up. 'No, please, I don't need a doctor. It was just the shock. I wasn't injured. A cup of tea and I'll be fine.'
He came back and stared down at her, looming darkly, with those thick brows together above his vivid blue eyes.
'A cup of tea? What you need is a stiff drink,' he said. 'And so do I—have you got anything or shall I walk back to the Green Man?'
'There's some brandy in a cupboard in the kitchen, but I don't like it, I won't have any.'
'If I have some, so do you,' he said tersely.
Liza stared, baffled by the irony of his mouth.
'When the police do a breath test I'm not going to be the only one with brandy in my veins,' he told her and she laughed.
'Look, no need to report the accident—I'm sure we can reach an amicable settlement. I'll pay for the repairs to your car, how's that?'
He considered her shrewdly, his eyes narrowed and thoughtful. 'How do I know you'll pay when the bill arrives?'
'Estimate it and I'll give you a cheque at once.'
'And if the cheque bounces?'
'It won't,' she said coolly, and he ran assessing eyes over her from head to foot. Liza's clothes were elegant and expensive; even a small farmer could see that.
'Poor little rich girl?' he mocked. 'Well, well. And Daddy will pay, I suppose?'
Liza's mouth tightened, but she didn't snap back. She had no wish to talk to the police about the accident because it had suddenly occurred to her that a local reporter might get to hear about it. Liza was news at the moment because of Bruno and the Giffords; any of the London papers would pay well for a news item about her, and if by some mischance a gossip column heard about her Essex cottage they might also hear about her weekend visits and start to wonder who she met down there.
Liza h
ad had enough of newspaper publicity. She would much rather pay the no doubt exorbitant bill for repairing the estate car. It would be cheaper at the price.
'OK, it's a deal,' the stranger said and walked out. She heard him opening cupboards in the kitchen, then he came back with two glasses of brandy.
'I shouldn't drink this on an empty stomach,' Liza said.
'Nor should I,' he grimaced, swallowing the brandy. 'When we feel better we'll make a meal and some coffee.'
'We?' Liza repeated, frowning. 'Shouldn't you be on your way home? Your wife will be worrying about you.'
'I haven't got a wife.' he said, eyeing her through his lashes with amusement.
'Well, somebody .. .' protested Liza.
'You're forgetting something!'
'What?' she asked warily, tensed to meet whatever was coming.
'My car,' he said coolly. 'It's a write-off. I won't drive five yards in it tonight in this mist. And don't suggest I stay at the Green Man, because they don't have a spare room. There's a fishing competition being held locally and all their rooms are occupied by contestants wanting to be up at the crack of dawn.'
'You could phone for a taxi,' Liza began, but he shook his head.
'It would never find us in this mist. I don't know how you managed to find your way here, or do you use radar?' His eyes mocked her. 'Have you got ears like a bat, or X-ray vision?'
'But how are you going to get home?' Liza asked slowly, sitting up and watching him with growing apprehension. She didn't know the man, and they were quite alone here. The Green Man was only just up the lane, at the top of the hill, a mere five or six minutes' walk away, but that was too far for safety. They wouldn't hear her scream from there and she couldn't run fast enough to get there before he caught up with her, even if she tried to make a dash for it.
'Well, I've no intention of walking it,' he said with irony, watching her face as if he could read every passing expression on it. 'I don't want to walk into the river, and that mist is getting thicker, if anything.'