This is the lane...

Neeta Part 1.

Not much of a picture, I know, but read on...

Dear Marge,
You always say I should record what happened. This seems as good a place as any. As you recall it was an evening in September, just like this evening.

"Why did you stop?" The judge asked.
"I don't know. I have asked myself the same question a thousand times."

"Was it because I thought she was a child?"
"Because she was so out of place?"
"The small gesture of her wave?"
"Her vulnerability?"

I still don't know, but in that split second, the decision to brake hard, stop and reverse back to her as she stood at the side of the road changed her life and mine.

This is the lane.

She was walking towards me but on the other side. It was dusk and I was on my way to your house Marge, for supper.
As I drew level with her, she raised her hand, hesitantly, just a bit, just enough to make me wonder.

She was wearing a Shalwar Kameez with a cardigan over. We simply don't see people dressed like that walking along the lanes.

Cautiously, I wound the window down, just a bit.
An unlikely thought occurred:
'what if it's an ambush?' Maybe she is the plant and there is a gang behind the hedge ready to mug me.

"Are you alright? What do you want?" I asked quite abruptly.
"Why are you here?"

In a very quiet voice, almost a whisper, she said:
"Please phone husband."
"What's the matter?"
"Lost."
"Where have you come from?"
"Town"
"Town? You've walked here from town? Where do you live?"
She told me the address.
"I can take you home."
"No. Please phone husband"
"I will take you home now."
"No, please phone."

She was still standing in the middle of the narrow lane. It was a cool evening.
"OK. You'd better get in the car."
She looked at me, huge dark eyes, scared.
"It's OK,"
She got in the car.

"I will phone him. It's OK."
I touched her arm, she startled, she was so small, child-like.
"It's OK."

I turned the car round and drove the short distance to a pub car park.
I called the local landline number from my mobile.
"Hello, I have a lady here, in my car, who says she is your wife. Would that be right?"
"I told her I would bring her home, but she wants you to come and get her."
"I will come." He said

I gave directions, we were about 4 miles from her home.
We waited some time.
Her English was very poor, but we talked a little.
We continued to wait, I called again, a different man answered and told me her husband was on his way.
I was wondering where the heck he had got to, and what I would do if he didn't turn up.

Obviously to be continued....

Neeta Day 2
Neeta Day 3
Neeta Day 4

Other stuff:
Thanks for all the brilliant advice on how to deal with a man with WHS - Wandering Hand Syndrome, last Saturday. Some of it brought tears to my eyes, through laughter, and some through the thought of the pain!!

Also many thanks for the birthday wishes, yesterday, I had a lovely evening, but have been suffering a tad today!!