6
As soon as I leave the kebab shop, an ice-cold gust freezes my lungs. I breathe hot air over my cupped palms, annoyed that I forgot my gloves again. I should leave a spare set in work, just in case. On a cold night like this, I wish I hadn’t sold Tony’s car. But it was too risky sitting behind a dead man’s steering wheel. Plus, I needed the money.
The life of a fugitive isn’t exactly cheap.
“See you tomorrow, Jodie,” Hakesh says as he locks the shutter behind me.
Oddly enough, the only fun thing about all this was changing my name. Mum told me that I came really close to being called Jodie when I was born. In fact, I was Jodie for about two minutes before she changed her mind. It’s still weird when Hakesh calls me it. Even now, I have to fight the urge to correct him.
The streets ar
