The Age of Misadventure. Judy Leigh
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surprise me at all with some of his dodgy contacts, I’d need to be somewhere obscure, and we’re still north of Liverpool so he won’t suspect we’re going to Brighton.
I swerve off the motorway and follow a sign for Orton and Ravenstonedale, down a narrow country road. It won’t be too far. The satnav tells me I’m going the wrong way, but I ignore it. It’s only a short drive to a service station and I’ll soon be back on the motorway. My brain’s fizzing with tiredness and my arms and legs are numb from being in one position for so long. I glance through the rear-view mirror. Nan’s fallen asleep already, her head on Bonnie’s shoulder.
Jade is texting, her thumbs moving furiously. ‘What’s happening now?’
‘I’m getting petrol, Jade.’
‘What’s wrong with the motorway services?’
‘I want my card to register the name of somewhere Adie won’t have heard of.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake …’
I sigh. ‘We’ll all be in bed in an hour.’
‘Not if we spend all this time bumbling down back roads in the middle of nowhere.’
‘Jade …’
‘What?’
‘I’m sorry we couldn’t take you straight to Brighton to be with Luis. I know you must be unhappy.’
‘Unhappy?’ She puts on the tone I remember so well from when she was a teenager: sarcasm, outrage and injustice. ‘Too right I’m unhappy. And frustrated. And bored. And annoyed.’
There’s a shriek from the back of the car. It’s Bonnie’s terrified voice. My heart speeds up and so do my reactions. A car’s coming straight towards us, its lights on main beam. I’m dazzled. I swerve to the left and slam my foot on the brake. The car lurches; we bump something. When I open my eyes, the X5 is in a hedge. I turn to look at Jade, then back at Bonnie: they’re wide-eyed, shocked. Nanny’s indignant.
‘Can’t you drive more carefully, Georgina? We’re stuck in the shrubs now.’
‘It’s nothing much, just a knock. Let’s get going.’
Jade is furious. ‘What a nutter to drive so fast.’
Bonnie’s voice is a whisper. ‘Do you think it was Adie’s Boxster?’
Jade shakes her head. ‘No, it wasn’t. You couldn’t see what sort of car it was. It was just some ignorant motorist; these lanes are so narrow. They’ll be miles away by now.’
The X5 is leaning over to one side. I sit still for a moment and consider what to do, then I decide to inspect the car for any damage before I start the engine. I switch on the emergency hazard lights, grab a torch from the glovebox and ease myself out through the door, moving softly to the other side and into the darkness to check the car. The ground is soft under my feet, and damp. It’s been raining. The sky is as dark as a woollen blanket overhead; no glimmering stars.
I shine the torch on the left-hand side of the bonnet. There are scratches on the side from the branches. The front end of the car is in the hedge. If I just reverse, I’ll be able to drive out. I go round the back and squeeze forwards as far as I can. I can see the twist of the wheel, the shadow of the tyre. I crouch down, direct the beam at the huge wheel, illuminating the front tyre on the left, and follow the beam to the gravel. The tyre’s flat at the bottom, completely deflated. I stare at it for a few moments and scratch my head. The X5 has the biggest puncture I’ve ever seen.
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