But his humour was short-lived. How was he to get back to Sydney now?

First things first, he told himself. Before he started to panic about escape routes, he needed to do something about oncoming traffic. He didn’t want anyone plunging unaware into that torrent.

He bent into the car again and flicked his lights to high beam. The river wasn’t so wide that oncoming cars wouldn’t see his warning. Then he flicked on his hazard lights.

But his warning was too late. A truck came hurtling around the bend behind him and it was travelling far too fast. Above the roar of the river Joss hardly heard it coming, and when he did he barely had time to jump clear.

The smash of tearing metal sounded above the roar of the water. There was a crashing of broken glass, a ripping, tearing metallic hell, and then the sounds of hissing steam.

Joss backed away fast and Bertram came with him.

What the…?

His car had been totalled. Just like that.

He swallowed a few times and laid a hand on his dog’s shaggy head, saying a swift thank you to the powers who looked after stupid doctors who ventured out in sports cars that were far too small. In a world where there were trucks that were far too big. In weather that was far too bad.

Then he took in the damage.

The other vehicle looked like an ancient farm truck-a dilapidated one-tonner. If Joss’s sports car had been bigger it would have fared better, but now… His rear wheels were almost underneath his steering-wheel. The passenger compartment where Joss and his dog had sat not a minute before was a mangled mess.

Hell!

‘Stay,’ he told Bertram, and thanked the heavens that his dog was well trained. He didn’t want him any closer to the wreck than he already was. The smell of petrol was starting to be overpowering…

He had to reach the driver.

Damage aside, it was just as well his car had been where it was, Joss thought grimly. Coming with the speed it had, if Joss’s car hadn’t been blocking the way the truck would now be at the bottom of the river.