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Chapters (62)
  1. Title
  2. Copyright
  3. Contents
  4. About the Author
  5. About the Book
  6. Dedication
  7. Your Worst Nightmare
  8. ONE
  9. TWO
  10. THREE
  11. FOUR
  12. FIVE
  13. SIX
  14. SEVEN
  15. EIGHT
  16. NINE
  17. The Answer to All Your Prayers
  18. TEN
  19. ELEVEN
  20. TWELVE
  21. THIRTEEN
  22. FOURTEEN
  23. FIFTEEN
  24. SIXTEEN
  25. SEVENTEEN
  26. EIGHTEEN
  27. NINETEEN
  28. TWENTY
  29. TWENTY-ONE
  30. TWENTY-TWO
  31. TWENTY-THREE
  32. TWENTY-FOUR
  33. TWENTY-FIVE
  34. TWENTY-SIX
  35. TWENTY-SEVEN
  36. TWENTY-EIGHT
  37. TWENTY-NINE
  38. THIRTY
  39. THIRTY-ONE
  40. Somebody Else’s Child
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. THIRTY-FIVE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. FORTY
  50. FORTY-ONE
  51. FORTY-TWO
  52. FORTY-THREE
  53. FORTY-FOUR
  54. FORTY-FIVE
  55. FORTY-SIX
  56. FORTY-SEVEN
  57. FORTY-EIGHT
  58. FORTY-NINE
  59. Sunlight on Water
  60. July
  61. September
  62. Acknowledgements

Roy lines the van up alongside a pump and turns off the engine. There’s the usual run-on before it dies. The van needs work.

‘If they’d only got a half-decent captain, it’d help,’ Trevor persists.

‘You’re full of it.’ Roy climbs down from the cab. ‘You want anything from the shop?’

‘If you’re buying, I’ll have a Coke.’

‘I’m not buying, so fetch it yourself.’

Trevor laughs, but his laughter’s cut short in Roy’s ears when he slams the van door. For once, it’s cricketing weather – a hot June day, hottest of the year so far. Roy unscrews the filler cap, fits the nozzle into the tank, and as he’s squeezing the trigger and letting the diesel run, he thinks of good things to take his mind off how much this is going to cost him. He thinks of opening the fridge at home and the first taste of a cold lager; he thinks of standing under the running shower, of washing off the plaster-dust and sweat; of sitting for a while in the garden while his missus finishes cooking his tea.

The car that pulls up behind him is an 09-plate Ford Focus in dark metallic red. Roy glances at it, and sees it’s carrying two unremarkable men, the driver in late middle-age and balding, the passenger a redhead of an age to be the driver’s son. The younger man appears to be angry, turning round to shout at somebody in the back. But there’s no one in the back, as far as Roy can see.

He turns away to watch the pump dials. The Ford’s driver takes a few litres of fuel and goes inside to pay. Finally, the nozzle clicks to say the van’s tank is full. Roy hangs it up, and the pump motor switches off.

In the relative quiet, he hears noises from the car behind, prolonged pounding coming from the boot. He can hear it clearly, so what’s curious to Roy is that the red-haired man in the passenger seat, the one who was angry before, seems not to hear it at all. He’s just sitting there, looking at Roy. Inside the shop, the Ford’s driver is handing over cash.

Roy moves a couple of steps towards the car. The petrol station isn’t busy, and the other motorists filling up are out of earshot. The red-haired man is watching him, and Roy’s unsure what to do. He’s thinking there might be someone in the boot, but is it really his business? Maybe these two blokes are playing some kind of prank, and that’s up to them. But the sun is scorching, and he wouldn’t want to be sweltering under hot metal.