DB turns to me and vomits. She is sitting in the front of the car, head down so fonts of puke pour out of her into the gap between our seats enveloping handbrake and gearbox. I grapple with the handbrake and pull over, hop out into the rain to go to let her out. The door is locked from the inside, so is N’s.
Voice Ukrainian neighbour “is everything ok?”
The car starts rolling down the hill. I run around and hop back in and drive slowly home resigned as DB continues to empty herself out into the carcass of the animal.
Now it’s smell is more appropriate to its name!
Ho!