‘You never win,’ said the man. ‘They have the power, you see. They have the systems in place. I travel by train as rarely as possible.’

‘You prefer to drive, do you?’ said Michael.

‘Not really. Driving’s not a pleasure any more, is it? You try getting out of Bromsgrove at five o’clock. Or getting in, for that matter.’

‘Is it solid?’

The man was now a talking blur.

‘It’s appalling,’ he said. ‘They had a consultation some time ago, the council cretins. “How to Alleviate Congestion,” and you didn’t have to be a genius. You didn’t need fifty thousand pounds a year with an index-linked pension – you needed a bit of common sense so as to stop people parking where the bottlenecks are, and widen the bloody road where the… you know, the junction by the superstore – that’s where the congestion comes from. That’s why it’s gridlocked.’

Michael said, ‘I hardly drive at all now.’

‘I used to do twenty-two thousand miles a year. This was when the roads were less cluttered, needless to say. I could do Bromsgrove to Hereford in an hour. I could do Bromsgrove to Shrewsbury in one and a quarter. From Shrewsbury, if I took the A5, I could be in Oswestry in twenty, or less. Stop in Wrexham for lunch, and be in Chester soon after two. You could do your job, and get home of an evening.’

‘What was your job?’

‘Mmm?’

The man paused, as if the question had surprised him.

‘I was wondering what job you did, that involved—’

‘Tool hire.’

‘Oh?’

‘Expanded that into plant hire, and ended up with a business that spread all the way into Wales. I didn’t want to expand it, but I didn’t have a choice in the end. I had so many orders, and… demands, that it got impossible. I had a customer in Denbigh – he was a contractor for a quarry – and he told me that there was no reliable plant-hire service in the whole county. He virtually begged me. “Set up something here!” So that’s what we did.’

Michael nodded. He took out his handkerchief.

‘You must have been busy, then?’ he said.

‘You know what stopped me?’

‘What?’

‘Heart attack.’

Michael nodded again, trying to adjust his facial expression to show both surprise and sympathy. He wanted to drink some whisky, but as he went to speak the man struck in first again so Michael was silenced. He talked loudly, with unchallengeable firmness. Most of the carriage could hear him, and a woman in the seats to their side had glanced up irritably.

Michael went to his bag, and found the glass.