45
Shotgun – Junior Walker And The Allstars
We had green lights all the way to Blackfriars Bridge. Twitchy was in seventh heaven, thanking God, Jesus, Allah and probably Buddha and Hari Krishna as well. I wasn’t listening, just concentrating on getting the hell out of Dodge as the saying goes.
As usual Itchy said nothing.
As we hit the bridge, green turned to blue as a squad car peeled out from Upper Ground with a squeal of tyres and a blare from its klaxon. Blues and twos, just what we didn’t want or need. But there it was, and catching up fast.
‘Hold on tight,’ I said out loud. ‘This could get nasty,’ and tromped the kick down on the Jag hard. The car reared back then took off like the trouper I knew its makers had made it.
The motor screamed, and the river was just a silver streak
