Every car that passed brought with it a slipstream of air, knocking Priest off balance and threatening to pull him further into the road. The thief didn’t seem to be coping particularly well either and was checking the top of the embankment, perhaps recalculating his plan. He was right to do so: with so many cars unable to see them until the last minute, the race was going to come to an end shortly, one way or the other.

Ahead, an articulated lorry in the lane nearest to them loomed closer. A deep horn blared but the middle lane was blocked and the lorry could do nothing but advance forward. There would be a few inches either side of the thief to spare when it passed and even less for Priest.

For a moment, the thief seemed to have abandoned the roadway and was heading back up the embankment but at the last minute he feinted right before leaning sharply left, in front of the lorry. The sound of the horn, brakes and rubber losing traction on the tarmac was ghastly. Priest caught sight of the driver’s panicked face as he slammed his foot on the brake and the back end of the vehicle fishtailed around, spilling into the middle lane and sending a cluster of smaller cars scattering across the carriageway and into the central reservation. One of them hit the high kerb and reared up for a few seconds on two wheels before crashing back down and sliding in front of the lorry like it was on ice.

The traffic behind had jammed up; the chorus of horns was deafening. The lorry had come to a complete stop, its tyres hissing angrily. The car that had nearly flipped had ploughed into the central barrier but the driver was already scrambling out, nursing his head. Behind the lorry, Priest could see most of the other vehicles had managed to hit their brakes in time. Miraculously, what collisions there were seemed fairly minor.

Out of breath and exhausted, he scanned the front of the lorry but there seemed no sign of any damage. He looked to the other side of the carriageway – the traffic had ground to a halt on that side too. Then he saw the distant shape of the thief scrambling over the crest of the embankment on the other side of the road and disappearing into the haze beyond.

This time, Priest didn’t give chase.

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

As a rule, Charlie Priest didn’t spook easily; but as he approached his front door there was a knot in his stomach.

Maybe she went home? Surely, she must have gone home.

Since his misadventure on the dual carriageway, Priest had forgotten about Elinor. Now, with his head throbbing and his thighs burning, leaving her alone in his flat seemed like one of the most moronic things he had ever done.