His eyes flicked upwards when she glanced back at him again, and he pretended to be examining some minor defect in the roof lining directly above her head.
‘So do you want me to drop you off or not?’ she said.
Trevor chose to answer the question with one of his own. ‘What do you expect to find when you get there anyway?’
‘Hard to say.’
‘Are you always this cryptic?’
‘Only when I don’t want to commit myself to a straight answer and especially when I’m distracted.’
Trevor noticed she was taking a particularly keen interest in the rear-view mirror and started to turn in his seat.
‘Don’t,’ said Sandra, putting a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t do anything to attract their attention.’
‘Oh God, it’s not the Scottish bloke, is it?’
‘Nope. It’s the boys in blue this time. Been behind us for nearly five minutes now. Maybe it’s just coincidence.’
Trevor gave a nervous laugh. ‘Yeah. Course it is.’
‘There’s one way to find out.’
Sandra flicked on the indicator and took the next turning on the left.
‘Well?’ said Trevor after a few seconds, fighting the urge to look round and see for himself.
‘So far, so g— Shit.’
‘They’re still behind?’
‘Seems like it really is us they’re after.’
‘Oh terrific. Now what?’
‘First, we wait and see if they pull us over. If not, we keep going and hope they get bored. There’s no way we can outrun them, and I certainly can’t see the petrol trick working this time. I’m already down to a quarter of a tank.’
Trevor squinted into the wing mirror on his side of the car, but the angle was too acute to see anything. He folded his arms and felt the pounding vibration from inside his chest. He closed his eyes and lowered his head as if in prayer, but it wasn’t praying in the strict sense of the word. Rather, he was concentrating hard on wishing the police car would simply disappear – a wish that wasn’t addressed to anyone or anything in particular. He’d tried the “Oh Lord, if you make X happen, I’ll devote the rest of my life to your service” gambit too many times in the past to know that God wasn’t easily fooled.
‘Oops.’
Trevor’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Sandra’s voice, and a split second later he heard the wail of a siren. He watched in dismay as the police car drew level and the cop in the passenger seat jabbed his finger at them.
‘I think he wants us to pull over,’ said Sandra, acknowledging the policeman’s gesture with a cheery wave.
The cop car pulled in front of them, a bank of blue lights flashing on its roof, and after about fifty yards it turned off the road into a lay-by. Sandra followed, brought the Peugeot to a halt behind it and switched off the engine.
‘Of course,’ she said as they sat and waited for the cops to get out of their car, ‘it’s probably you they’re after.’
‘Oh thanks,’ said Trevor with a sarcastic grin.
‘Well think about it. Okay, so I’ve got a bunch of gangster headcases who would be more than keen to have my arse on a plate – and maybe MI5 as well – but as for the Old Bill, I think that’s down to you, my friend. After all, you’re the wife murderer, not me.’
Trevor rounded on her, his eyes blazing. ‘Listen. How many more times do I have to—’
‘Shut up. They’re coming,’ said Sandra, once again placing a firm hand on his arm. ‘Leave this to me, and don’t say a bloody word.’
‘Oh right, so you can drop me in the shit and be off on your merry little way.’
This time, Sandra punched him hard just above the elbow. Trevor winced, and then his whole body tensed as he watched the two police officers walk slowly towards them – one male and one female. He eased himself down in his seat and pulled up the hood of his fleece.
‘Jesus, Trevor,’ said Sandra out of the corner of her mouth. ‘What did I say about not drawing attention to yourself?’
The male officer carried a clipboard and began making a cursory inspection of the outside of the car while his partner bent down to peer in through Sandra’s open window. ‘Afternoon, madam… Sir.’
Trevor would have preferred not to have made eye contact with her but decided that continuing to stare straight ahead through the windscreen might be construed as highly suspicious. She smiled warmly at them, but he guessed this was probably a mask they learned to put on during the first day of basic training.
By now, Milly had leapt to her feet on the back seat and was panting enthusiastically at the policewoman, simultaneously depositing large gobbets of saliva onto Sandra’s shoulder.