‘I’d get out of the car,’ said Jimmy.
Steven, still thinking about the cyclist and other annoying things, didn’t hear. He tried the engine again; it made a loud rumble and then a bang. Jimmy pulled Steven out of the car.
The milling crowd now formed a semi-circle around the car as a flame appeared from the side of the bonnet. Someone mumbled something about the fire brigade, as another appeared with a fire extinguisher and tried to get it to work. Steven stood back and watched as a tyre hissed itself flat.
Timing, thought Steven, it’s all about timing.
Conway’s fiesta rumbled into Oban. As he braked at the lights, the back seat slid forward for what seemed the millionth time to Martin.
‘You ever think of fixing this seat?’ grumbled Martin.
‘Oh that? It’s been like that since I brough
