Read Online Rachel's Coming Home by Gillian Villiers - Free Book Online Page B

anything.’
    He stormed out of the room and Rachel and her mother exchanged a silent look.
    â€˜I’ll talk to him later,’ said Rachel.
    â€˜He’s a good boy really,’ said her mother.
    Rachel’s move back to the family home hadn’t started as well as she had hoped, but she tried to concentrate on the positive. Her father was recovering nicely. All the local vet practices had been happy to take Anthony’s posters and a couple of new bookings had come in, possibly as a result. The weather was beautiful and she was enjoying the opportunity to be outdoors. Her parents seemed to think she was doing too much but what they didn’t realise was that Rachel needed to be doing something. She revelled in it. It was a pity Anthony wasn’t a bit more like her, but she was working on that.
    It was a Wednesday morning, a week or so after her visit to Philip Milligan’s house, and she was out walking once again, this time with two of the visiting dogs, sensibly on their leads. One was a slightly loopy collie-cross and one a highly strung springer spaniel so leads were definitely a good idea. She let the dogs drag her up the track over the hill to the east, away from Freddy Smith’s land, and then dropped back down to the road to do a circuit home.
    As she approached the road a little white van came around the corner going rather too fast. The brakes squealed as the driver realised how close he was to the verge and the van swerved then righted itself and accelerated away. Rachel shook her head. Some youngster, no doubt. You didn’t often see driving like that out here. She’d have to make sure she kept the dogs close to her on the grass verge, she didn’t want anything to happen to them.
    A moment later she heard another loud screech of brakes and this time, if she wasn’t mistaken, it was followed by a bang. She began to run in the direction the van had been heading, the dogs more than happy to accompany her.
    As she rounded the corner she saw the white van, stationary now and slewed across tarmac. A red car that had obviously been travelling in the opposite direction was stopped so close that Rachel could only assume the two vehicles had hit. She pulled out her mobile and was dialling 999 even as she hurried forward. She gave the location and was able to report that nobody seemed to be hurt. Certainly the two drivers were already climbing out of their cars and launching into a heated exchange.
    â€˜Women drivers!’ shouted the man who had been driving the van. He was older than Rachel had expected, a heavy-set man in his fifties. ‘What were you doing on my side of the road? Never look where you’re going.’
    â€˜I wasn’t on your side of the road,’ said the woman, far more quietly. She was Rachel’s age or a little older and looked very shaken. ‘And I wasn’t driving too fast, either, which you certainly were.’
    â€˜Are you both all right?’ asked Rachel, dropping her phone back into her pocket.
    The man had opened his mouth to launch into another tirade, but paused when he saw her. He glanced quickly up and down the road. ‘Yes, ah, fine, no problem. If this little lady will just move her car out of the way I’ll be getting on.’
    Rachel was close enough now to see that the cars had touched, but only slightly as they had both swerved. The bumper of the red car was dented. Rachel peered inside and was relieved to see that there were no passengers. Likewise in the van, although she could see a cage in the back, which might have held a dog.
    â€˜I’ll need to take your name and phone number, contact details,’ said the woman, shaking her head to clear it. ‘My car’s damaged, my insurers will want to contact yours.’
    â€˜It should also be reported to the police,’ said Rachel. She was beginning to feel angry on the woman’s behalf. The accident could have been far worse. She was