I got myself out of the building, out of the Quadrangle, out of the parking bay and out of Oxford. So far it had been a fruitful, if a trifle long, day – two hours’ sleep was not my body’s idea of a good night’s kip; it wasn’t my brain’s idea either. The rain battered down, the wipers continued their mournful clumping, the de-mister fought with the damp for domination of the windscreen. It was three in the afternoon and growing very dark. I was pleased with my progress.

There was the sound of a horn blaring. It continued blaring, getting louder. I opened my eyes. ‘Christ!’ I swung the steering wheel hard to the left, and thirty-five tons of articulated Mercedes lorry thundered over the fourteen and a half feet of tarmac I had vacated about one thousandth of a second earlier. Shaking from the shock, and cursing myself for allowing myself to be so stupid as to fall asleep at the wheel, I slowed right down, pulled into a lay-by, slouched down in my seat, and slept for an hour and a quarter.

*

The rain had stopped by the time I drove into the mews. It was nearly eight o’clock. I turned the corner, swinging out wide in order to position myself for the garage, and missed a large dark shape in the middle of the mews by a good quarter of an inch. I didn’t need to take a second look at the dark shape to know it was Gelignite’s Golf. All of a sudden, I felt one whole lot better. Behind the thick curtains, I could see lights were on in the house. I put the Jag in the garage and opened the front door.

There was a smell of cooking. I went into the kitchen. Gelignite didn’t look up. ‘You’re a shit, Max Flynn, you know that? You’re a shit.’

‘So I’ve heard,’ I said wearily.

‘What do you mean, you’ve heard?’

‘If you think you’re the first person on earth to discover that I am a shit, then you’re badly mistaken. You’re about seventy-five girls too late.’

Le Creuset were not particularly concerned with aerodynamics when they designed their casserole dish range. If they had been, the massive one Gelignite flung at me would have probably killed me. Fortunately, its full payload of couscous did not improve its airborne stability, and it crashed into the wall a good arm’s length from my right ear. We both stood glaring at each other. A full minute passed before Gelignite broke the silence. ‘Christ,’ she said. ‘You look awful.’

‘I feel it.’

‘Shall I fix you a drink?’

I nodded. ‘I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.’

‘You’re lucky,’ she said. ‘I had to get my toothbrush.’ Somewhere beneath her crazy hair, I thought I detected the merest trace of a smile.

Chapter 16

16