49
We pull up in the public car park with a good view of the police station’s staff car park. There are brown metal gates across the entrance, which whir open every now and again to let a car in or out.
You could cut the atmosphere with a knife, and I’m almost worried that Toby Sheridan might somehow be able to sense the tension from where he is and know something’s going on. I can hear my heartbeat in my chest, the blood pulsing in my eardrums.
‘You alright?’ Kieran asks.
‘Yeah. Fine,’ I lie.
All of a sudden, this seems like a really bad idea. What the hell are we doing here? Even though I’ve had all day to think about this — indeed, I have been thinking about it all day — it’s now real. I’m actually here, watching the entrance to the police station car park, waiting for the man who’
