Best Served Cold

About three weeks ago a woman who lives far lower down in the valley took a swipe at me with her car. In her defence I guess she was in a hurry.
A lorry driver stopped to ask me directions and, as I pointed him in the right route, Ms Road Rage mistook the cause of her hold up.
She leant upon the horn of her car to draw our attention to the fact that she was there. She probably alerted the rest of the committee of The Llechwedd and District Sheepdog Trial as well.
As the lorry pulled off I stepped out from behind to apologise and explain, only to be subjected to a tirade. Abuse directed at people who felt it was perfectly acceptable to chat with their mates in the lane and hold up the world.
I didn’t really have time to reflect on the fact that this was a little unfair at the time as she proceeded to emphasise her point by driving straight at me, and accelerating to the task.
I was able to sidestep but in being brushed aside by her car the wing mirror came in to contact with my thigh and snapped off.
By now the poor woman, and I feel she must have had problems earlier in the day besides a few seconds hold up, was incandescent with rage at my inconsiderate stupidity.
A further helping of Anglo Saxon aspersions on the level of my intelligence and the nature of my parents relationship was cast from the window of the car. And then with a flourish she rallied off in the direction of The Old Walled Town.
I was a little bemused at the time and later realised I was in shock. I was uninjured and didn’t think about phoning the police until the next day. By which time of course there wasn’t much point. I also rationalised that anyone that out of control was bound to feel full of guilt and remorse.

And so I have done my best to cheer the poor woman up since .
Every day, sometimes twice a day, occasionally three times, I have given her a cheery beep on my own horn as I pass her house in my car. First thing in the morning and last thing at night……