When - when's he expected to arrive?'

'The train should be getting in to Alderley Halt in about five minutes. Hawkins has gone to meet it in the Rolls. Actually, there's quite a party of film people coming, isn't there, Daddy?'

Lord Burford nodded happily. 'Biggest thing to happen at Alderley since Queen Victoria stayed here in 1852.'

'Jolly good,' said Sebastian.

 

* * *

 

By the time Hugh reached Alderley village at about eleven-thirty and started on the final stage to the house he was stiff with cold. This last part of the journey did nothing to improve his mood. The estate was surrounded by a positive network of narrow lanes, and like all of them the one he had to follow wound irritatingly, several times approaching to within a mile of the house, which could be clearly glimpsed through the trees. Then the lane would suddenly turn away, without apparent reason, on another long detour.

Hugh's mind was filled with thoughts of blazing fires and hot coffee, and as bend followed bend he became more and more frustrated and began to push his machine ever faster.

At last he reached the final bend before the straight stretch of wider road that ran past the entrance to the drive leading up to the house. He twisted the throttle grip, leaning over so that the wheels of the sidecar actually left the ground.

One thing, however, which he had not allowed for was the heavy overnight frost that had resulted in icy roads. Until he'd reached the village he'd been travelling on main roads, on which grit had been laid. But this twisting, little-used lane had not been treated.

Suddenly Hugh felt the bike start to slip from under him. The next moment he found himself rolling over and over on the road. It seemed as though he was never going to stop. But eventually he did, and when his head had cleared he sat dizzily up.

After a few seconds he decided he wasn't hurt and got unsteadily to his feet. Suddenly he no longer felt cold. He walked over to his cycle and sidecar, which were apparently undamaged. Hugh tried to get the contraption upright. But it was heavy and his feet kept slipping on the still icy surface.

He was making another attempt when he heard a car approaching from around the bend. It had the deep-throated roar of an expensive sports model. Hugh started to run towards the bend. But his feet went from under him again. By the time he'd scrambled up, a long, low scarlet drop-head tourer had appeared round the curve.

Hugh yelled and waved his arms. He saw the driver brake and the car start to skid. Hugh threw himself to one side, and in a graceful spin the sportscar's nearside rear wheel went over the front wheel of the motorcycle.

 

* * *

 

Paul felt the bump and a horrible crunching clatter. Then the car had stopped and there was a great calm. He got hastily out and saw that the front wheel of the motorcycle was badly buckled. The driver, only his nose showing between goggles and scarf, was standing on the grassy shoulder, staring mutely at the wreckage.

Paul walked towards him. 'I say, old man, I'm most frightfully sorry—'

Without taking his eyes from his injured machine, the motorcyclist raised both arms skywards in a gesture of fury and shouted, 'You reckless imbecile!'

Paul said, 'Now, steady on. I only—'

'You only? You only wrecked my—' He looked at Paul for the first time and stopped short. 'You?' he said.

Paul felt a sudden chill of alarm. He said, 'What?'

'Carter! What are you doing here?'

'I'm afraid I don't—'

The other suddenly tore off his goggles and scarf, and Paul's eyes widened.