‘That’s going to depend on a few things,’ the woman said. ‘I’m giving you a chance to help me catch a rat. The easier you make that go, the sooner I’ll forget that you exist.’

*

Her brother had been urging her to put her foot down. ‘You’ve got two and a half litres underneath the bonnet,’ he’d said, ‘and you’re driving like a sad old lady. Come on, at least push it up to forty.’ She’d gone to thirty-five, no higher, but it hadn’t mattered. They’d been somewhere outside Wrotham Heath on the A20. Almost back in Borough Green. She’d caught the flash of the police car’s brightwork in the mirror. ‘Jesus, Charlie. Now look what you’ve gone and done.’ No sooner had he twisted round to see, the bell was ringing and the STOP POLICE sign had been lowered.

Her brother hadn’t panicked – not at first. ‘You’ll only get a ticket, won’t you?’

If he hadn’t been there with her, she might well have kept on going. But she’d steered on to the shoulder of the road.

‘Well, won’t you?’

The coppers had drawn up close behind. There’d been two of them, but only one had trundled over in his uniform. When he’d knocked on the window, she’d obliged him, winding it right down so he could stoop and get a look at her. In one quick motion of his eyes, the copper had appraised the situation. ‘Evening, miss,’ he’d said. ‘Is this your vehicle?’

‘No,’ she’d said. ‘I borrowed it.’

‘From whom?’

She’d peered towards the dashboard. ‘I don’t think you’d know him, constable.’

‘I see. And here’s me thinking I know everyone round here.’ The copper had leaned in and spied the leather seats, the walnut trim. ‘A rather fancy motor for a young girl to be driving. And expensive, too. I’ll need to see your licence, please.’

‘Don’t have it on me. Sorry.’

‘Then you’ll need to bring it to the station. You’ve got seven days to do so.’ He’d lifted out the little notebook from his pocket. ‘Now then, I shall ask again, if you don’t mind: who does the car belong to?’

She’d not answered. The traffic had crawled past. She’d seen three children kneeling on the back seat of a Morris, gawping at the trouble she was in. She’d waved at them. Her brother had said, ‘Tell him, Joy. Go on.’

She’d cleared her throat and said, ‘It’s Long John Silver’s.’

And the copper had exhaled. ‘All right, then, miss. We’re going to need you to stay put.’ He’d slid his notebook back into his pocket, made a gesture to the other copper, who’d got out and stomped towards them. ‘You and PC Higgs can get acquainted while I use the radio. Please don’t make him have to put you in the bracelets. Either one of you. I’ll need those keys out the ignition, too.’ She’d passed them over. ‘Long John Silver. Crikey. Your poor mother must be awful proud of you two jokers, eh? Wait there.’ The copper had trudged to his car.