They drove through the Dutch countryside, the darkness punctuated by an orange glow from dozens of greenhouses. Up ahead the truck rumbled on at a steady fifty. After a couple of hours they passed into Germany and Kowlowski took the opportunity to stop, pulling off the autobahn and into a rest halt set amid a forest of trees. The interior light flicked on and they had a clear view of the Pole as he clambered into the rear of the cab. A curtain slipped across and the light went out.

‘You’re kidding me.’ Holm looked round. There were several other lorries parked up, a gentle hum of an engine on a refrigerated trailer on one of them. Away from the lorries the halt was deserted, lines of empty car-parking spaces washed by the light from above. This wasn’t like a UK motorway stop. There was nothing. No restaurant, no petrol station, nowhere to grab a snack or buy a newspaper.

‘It’s going to be a long night, boss,’ Javed said. ‘A very long night.’

The clock on the dash crawled through the hours. Twelve, one, two, three. Holm contorted himself into various positions but couldn’t get comfortable. He rested his head against the side window and gazed up at the cloudless night sky where thousands of pinpricks of white light inched across the heavens. Javed lay across the back seat, sleeping as if he was in a luxury hotel bed. Another one of life’s paradoxes, Holm thought: the young slept easy, whereas when you were old and tired and your head was full of worry, sleep wouldn’t come.

At five, the morning light began to filter across the eastern horizon, and half an hour later Kowlowski was up and checking the truck. A cursory kick of the tyres and a more sustained examination of the rear doors of the container and then he was back in the cab, the engine firing up and the Pole easing the lorry down the slip road and back onto the autobahn.

Holm started the car and followed. Javed continued to sleep until Kowlowski pulled into an Autohof for breakfast.

‘I’m starving,’ Javed said, sitting up and gazing across to the service station building. ‘Do you think…?’

They could see Kowlowski loading a plate with food before finding a seat in the cafeteria. He’d bought a newspaper and was thumbing through the sports section.

‘Yes,’ Holm said. As much as he needed food, he was desperate for the loo. ‘You grab some snacks while I powder my nose. Then we swap. If Kowlowski heads off we’ve always got your app, right?’

‘You’ve changed your tune.’ Javed slipped out his phone and checked the screen. ‘But yes, it’s working fine.’

‘Good, let’s go.’