THE TOM’S 4X4 VOLVO hugged the curves nicely along the A-road toward Shropshire. He’d convinced me to climb aboard upon confirmation of his solo status, with a statement of, ‘I’m going to get Brook back. And I can’t do it alone.’ Though, curbing the urge to bash his head in at the implication that he wanted her back for himself had taken some effort.
“So, let me get this straight,” I said, cranking down the window a little to dilute his odour. “You think someone in the Coalition has Brook. Correct?”
He nodded but didn’t turn. He hadn’t looked my way since I’d climbed in his ride. Instead, he peered ahead toward the windscreen, where the wipers intermittently swished back and forth. Beyond those, heavy rain splatters bounced off the dulled grey tarmac of the road.
Body twisted slightly i
