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We were on our way back from visiting relatives one evening in late autumn and the roads had been salted. It wasn't actually raining though the road was wet which meant the windscreen was constantly sprayed with dirt by other vehicles, so I was using the washers every few minutes. Eventually the water ran out and though we were not far from home I could hardly see a thing. I always carry a can of water in case this happens so I just needed to stop the refill the washer tank. I struggled on to the next lay-by and pulled off. In fact it turned out to be a section of old road retained when the main road had been straightened. It ran down beside the new carriageway, turned slightly to one side and opened out into long, narrow car park with views across the valley. I was surprised to see a number of cars already there, mostly spaced out at the near end. I drove slowly past these and turned in just beyond them. As my headlights swept round I could just make out a lone car at the far end through my almost opaque windscreen. I told Lucy that I wouldn't be long and opened the bonnet and boot. As I went round to fetch the water can from the boot I looked down to the lone car and realised there were two or three men standing beside it, in spite of the cold. I took the can to the front and lifted the bonnet to fill the washer tank. I heard the men talking and glanced across, they were about 30 yards away and I realised they were staring into the parked car, which I now saw had its interior light on. I also thought the men were rubbing their hands together to keep warm. Then I realised they were only using one hand each. I heard one of them say distinctly, "Go on, give it to her," and one of the others cheer. I stared hard at ...

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