Adders on the Heath

'You're lucky,' he said shortly. 'Keep your eyes skinned another...why, hullo! It's Miss Gammon and Miss Crimble, isn't it? Sorry, girls, but you were rather all over the road, you know. Any damage done?'

'I'm wet and muddy, Mr Towne,' said Judy. 'Lucky no more damage.'

'I'm all over scratches and I'll bet my nylons have had it,' said Syl. 'And we wasn't all across the road, Mr Towne.'

'Oh, well, I'll take your word for it. Thought any more about what I asked you? The pay's not bad, you know.'

'Still thinking,' said Judy. 'Well, we'd better be getting along. Catch my death in these wet things.'

'I'll give you a lift in my car.'

'No, thanks all the same. We better keep moving. Anyhow, you ain't going our way.'

'Oh, there's certain to be a gate where I can turn the car. You carry on, and I'll pick you up and drive you home, if you tell me where you live.'

Thanks a lot, but nothing doing. Good night, Mr Towne. We'll keep on thinking about your other offer. We might accept if it wasn't for what happened to you know who.'

'But, my dear girl, that was nothing to do with me, or with the job they were doing for me. What on earth silly ideas have you got in your heads? Whatever they are, you'd better get rid of 'em pretty damn' quick! Think it over.'

'Didn't mean anything personal, Mr Towne. You know that. Well, good night again. If you want to turn the car, you'll have to go near enough up to the sports club place, I reckon.'

'O.K.' He walked back to his car.

'Come on,' said Syl, beginning to step out.

'Prepared to sell your honour dearly, dearie?' asked Judy, falling in behind her.

'Don't know what you mean. Old Towne ain't that sort.'

'I'll tell you what sort he is. He's a stinking murderer. I reckon he was out to get us. That swerve was no accident; no, nor it wasn't careless driving, neither. And he isn't sozzled. I got a very keen nose for that sort of thing, and there wasn't no smell to his breath.'

'You're cuckoo! Why would he want to get us? We ain't done nothing!'

'We've turned down that offer to watch out for them roaming ponies, haven't we?'

'What's that got to do with it?'

'I don't exactly know. What say we crash the hedge? I don't want him having another go at us. He might be lucky the next time.'

'You got the jitters? Well, all right then, if you want to. One thing, I'm in such a perishing mess already, I can't look much worse than I do. Hope it's not that fresh conductor-boy on the bus. If it is, he's bound to pass remarks. He always do, give 'im half a chance!'

'Half a mo! There's a gate a little way ahead. Let's trot. He'll be back any minute.'

They trotted, found the gate and tumbled over it. They walked uncertainly on the rough ground but were immediately screened from the road by a high hedge of hawthorns.

'Duck down, and let him go by,' said Syl, as they caught the sound of a car. It passed them at less than twenty miles an hour as they crouched in the shadow of the hedge.

'Looking for us,' said Judy. 'We can get on now.' They hurried on as fast as they could. 'Don't suppose he'll turn the car again. Let's get back on to the road. It's quicker that way. Cor! These thorns!'

'Don't try it. We'll get torn to pieces. There's sure to be another gate further on.'

The bus conductor proved to be not the youth they dreaded, but a cultured, quiet West Indian, who might have been surprised by their dishevelled appearance, but who was far too courteous to appear to notice it. The bus stopped at the corner of Judy's road. Syl had further to walk.

'Come in our house. Mum'll give us a hot drink. Then me and my dad'll see you home,' said Judy kindly.

'Shall you tell them about Mr Towne?'

'I better. Towne'll guess we will, anyway, and it's protection to tell. He won't dare do nothing to us if he thinks other people know.'

'You don't really think he done it on purpose, do you? Tried to run us down, I mean.'

'I'm not taking any chances, I know that. I shan't go to the stadium any more for a bit. I'm going to stay in the bright lights and walk on a proper pavement. What's more, I'm going to phone that Mrs Gavin in the morning. The shop steward has arranged so we girls can phone up our hair appointments in the tea-breaks, and this is a damn sight more important than a hair-do, although I shall tell Len Parker that's what I want the phone for.'

'Nothing's more important than a hair-do, but you're lucky to be able to phone from the factory. I can just see our old cat's face if anybody suggested it to her!'

There was a short silence until Judy said, 'I s'pose you noticed he cottoned on at once when I said (naming no names) about Bert Colnbrook and that there Bunt? He didn't need no telling what I meant.'

'I don't think that's much to go on. You sure your mum won't mind if I come in for half a tick? I don't want to go home alone.'

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN