It was almost dark. I was lying on my back on a comfortable bed. Somebody
was bathing the side of my head with cold water, which felt really good. My
mouth was dry, and I seemed feverishly hot. Even in my muzzy state, I was
confused about a picture of Robert Redford which seemed to be floating a few
inches above my face. There were other pictures, too, but it was too dark to
see them, or perhaps my eyes wouldn’t focus properly.
Pete’s voice beside me broke in gently, “Thank God you’re all right. I
didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t try to get a doctor because they’d have
asked awkward questions.’
He moved sideways, and I realised that I was on the bed in the back of the
lorry cab. I felt a good deal better, and said so. Pete lifted my head and
gave me a swig of water from a bottle. I swallowed eagerly.