David hadn't reacted fast enough; he had driven their car into that wall.
This wasn't the first accident foe had had, either, as his father would have reminded him. He had soaped a wing here, dented a bumper there, but none of his other accidents had been serious or even very expensive on the garage bills. All the same, his father would have a few things to say about this crash—and David hated being criticised or blamed. He was a sunny character, but only so long as things went well; he liked to skate over life's surface, having fun and enjoying himself, laid-back and casual, a little lazy, and reluctant to accept responsibility even for himself. He wanted to live in the sun—he ran from bad weather.
David's idea of a marvellous life was to laze on the beach all day; a little swim or a ride on the surf, then a little barbecue with their mates, some partying and a few tubes of Fosters and maybe steep in a hammock on the terrace in the warm night air. Prue had always thought it sounded a good life, too.
She and David had had the odd argument in the past but, like his other accidents, their arguments had never- been serious or meant anything, and she wished she hadn't argued with him today. He wasn't himself, she should have left the subject until he was really better.
The grate of feet on gravel made her turn her head.
Josh was walking towards her, dark hair windblown, lean body moving gracefully in the old tweed jacket and grey flannel trousers.
He was alone, and she looked past him towards the car, but there was no sign of Lynsey in it.
'That was a short visit,' he said drily, and she flushed, at once ready to take umbrage.
'David isn't very well yet—the ward sister thought I shouldn't stay long.'
'Why are you so defensive?'
'I'm not!' She wasn't defensive, she was irritated. He was commenting on her private life again. Why couldn't he mind his own business?
'Where's your sister?' she asked, to change the subject rather than because she cared.
'Visiting your fiancé,' he drawled, and Prue stared at him. 'She noticed you hadn't brought him any flowers, so she went to the hospital shop and bought him some.'
He seemed to find it amusing; Prue didn't. 'How thoughtful of her,'
she said through her teeth. His sister had some of his interfering tendencies, did she? Prue hadn't forgotten to buy David flowers; it simply hadn't occurred to her to take him any. Back home he would have felt a fool if she was seen giving him a bunch of flowers. His mates would have teased him about it. Prue wondered what he had said when an unknown girl came up to him, gave him a bouquet and chatted him up.
Of course, Lynsey was very young and beautiful. David would have been flattered by her attention; it might have put him back into his usual cheerful, easy-going temper.
'You resent it,' Josh thought aloud, watching her.
'No, I'm grateful to her,' Prue said.
'Hmm,' he said, unconvinced, then eyed her thoughtfully. 'I rather got the idea you were having a row with him. Anything wrong?'
He was too observant, thought Prue, fighting to look blank. 'Nothing is wrong,' she insisted.
'Hmm,' he said again, maddeningly.
Lynsey came sauntering out of the hospital entrance just then. She joined them, tilting her chin defiantly at Prue.
'I told her you had taken her fiancé some flowers,' Josh said.
'I hope you didn't mind,' Lynsey said in an offhand voice which clearly conveyed that she didn't care whether Prue minded or not.
'It was very kind of you, thank you,' said Prue. 'He isn't too well yet, and I'm sure your flowers cheered him up.'
'He seemed to like them,' Lynsey said, sliding her slender body into the back seat of the car, and managing to imply that Prue should have thought of taking David flowers, which so annoyed Prue that before she knew what was happening she found herself in the front seat next to Josh.
As they drove off, Lynsey leaned forward and said to her brother,
'Drop me off at the village, will you? I want to call in on an old pal.'
'Who?' he asked, driving steadily, his eyes on the road.
'Don't be nosy, Josh!' Lynsey snapped.