I popped the boot, unzipped the wheelie suitcase and tucked the wooden cigar case inside. Unlocked the driver s door, and climbed in behind the wheel. Sat there for a moment with my eyes closed, letting the seat take my weight, muscles settling into new and painful configurations.
She cleared her throat. I think it might be a good idea to just drop me off somewhere, doesn t matter where, I mean I don t want to take you out of your way, and I can probably
Going to be tight, but we ll make it. I turned the key, and the Renault spluttered into life. The trick is to only brake when you see the speed cameras.
You ve got blood on your face.
The steering wheel was set in concrete, but I dragged it all the way over, the bearings groaning as the car bumped up onto the opposite kerb, then down again onto the road, facing the right way. I snapped on the lights, cranked up the blower to clear the foggy windscreen, switched on the radio. Identikit pop music buzzed and crackled out of the speakers.
Constable Henderson Dr McDonald turned to look out the back window. Ash? What happened?
An hour to Aberdeen. Hour and a half with rush hour. I put my foot down, weaving the car through the sodium-lit streets. You got your seatbelt on?
Are you sure you re all right to drive?
Not really.
The song faded away and what sounded like a kids TV presenter, or coke addict, burbled from the speakers. Yeah, wasn t that great? Really sets you up for: midweek madness! Sirens and trombones made roaring farting noises.
Ha, ha. You re listening to Crazy Colin s Rush-Hour Drive-Time Club, and we ve got the sports news coming up in a minute
If something s happened, perhaps it would help to talk about it? That s what I do after all. Usually it s not till people have been arrested, but that s not important right now.
Mr Pain. What kind of name was Mr Pain for a grown man? Had to be on meth. Or crack. The big bastard had to be taking something to keep on coming like that.
Two missed payments and they send someone round to cripple me. How was that fair?
My head pounded, blades digging into my eye, every oncoming headlight turned into a rusty knife.
Dr McDonald grabbed the handle above the door as the Renault screeched around the roundabout and I floored it, heading north.
Is it Do we really have to go this fast, I mean, what if something happens, like a tyre bursts, or we hit something, or there s diesel on the road and
Please shut up. For a minute. OK? Just one minute. I ground the heel of my hand into the socket of my left eye. It felt as if I d been battered with sledgehammers. Should pull over and pop some of the Tramadol in my suitcase. Only take five minutes. And then we d probably miss the boat.
Probably miss it anyway, thanks to Mr Pain-in-the-Arse.
There was silence from the other side of the car.
She had her arms folded, legs crossed, head turned to the window. Didn t have to be an expert in body language to know what that meant.
Well, you know what? Sod her. See how chatty she d be if some junkie bastard tried to cripple her.
The lights on the Oldcastle bypass flickered through the rain ahead.
OK, so maybe I had been planning on doing a runner for a couple of days, but it wasn t as if I had any choice, was it? Police business escort the lunatic psychologist up to Shetland, make sure she didn t fall into the sea, or get hit by a bus, or mauled by a sheep, or whatever other disaster she had up her stripy sleeve. OK, so I missed a couple of payments; there was no need to send a coked-up nut-job after me with a plumber s mace.
Bloody lucky for Mr Pain I m a reasonable man.
The slip road swept down to the left, dipping below the level of the motorway, then up again, joining onto the A90 north to Aberdeen. The speedometer crept past eighty.
She was still sulking.
Just because I d asked her nicely to shut up for a minute.
Well, maybe not asked
OK, so I was wrong, happy now? It was all my fault. As usual.
I m sorry. It s Deep breath. Didn t meant to snap.
She shrugged one shoulder, bringing it all the way up to her ear.
Oh, for God s sake.
Really: I m sorry.
She turned in her seat and looked me up and down, then smiled.
Fifteen minutes, I m impressed, I thought you d take at least half an hour to apologize, there might be hope for you yet, Ash. Ash Ash it s a strange name, isn t it? I mean your parents probably named you after the tree, but I bet most people think of fire and burning and running and screaming
Well, how was I supposed to know they d be digging up half the bloody road? The Renault juddered across the dual carriageway and into the harbour entrance. Still got fifteen minutes
Aberdeen s ferry terminal was a long covered walkway bolted onto the side of an ugly slab-faced building. A red-and-white barrier arm blocked the entrance to the vehicle-loading area. I buzzed the window down, letting in the screech of seagulls and the mingling odours of diesel and fish.
