33
Henry arrived at five past five, walked around into the red gleam of the car’s taillights, and loaded Tom’s bag into the boot. Tom looked up at the window where Vic was standing. He waved but she didn’t wave back. She had a lot on her mind, they both did.
The city streets were just starting to fill but Henry sped through red lights and stop signs as if he had the grid of moving traffic memorised. Tom felt a sense of wonderment and calm watching Henry drive. Cars just seemed to disappear around him, and Tom sensed his youth might have been misspent at car rallies. It was certainly coming in handy now.
“V8s or formula one, Henry?” he asked.
“Both, and jeeps through landmines, military ambulances too. You just predict the danger and calculate risk versus skill.”
“I’ll remember that He
