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‘To?’
‘A friend’s.’
Again, that tell-tale flicker. Dishonesty, or something else?
‘Which friend?’ Joseph asks. He’s played taxi service often enough to know where most of Max’s friends live. He doesn’t recall ever taking that route.
‘Just a girl.’
‘Someone I know?’
‘Dad – it was just a girl.’
‘Was she expecting you?’
‘Why does that—’
‘It matters. Everything matters. Was this girl expecting you?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And you didn’t turn up.’
‘No.’
‘So who was it?’
‘Dad, I …’
‘Max, for God’s sake. If someone died in those woods tonight, and someone else knows you were driving through them, and then you never turned up to see them afterwards – it matters.’
The boy goes still. His eyes flare, as if he’s just grasped the danger his father has highlighted.
‘So tell me, Max. What’s her name?’
‘Drew,’ his son replies.
‘Drew?As in Tilly’s best friend?’
‘We’ve been keeping it quiet.’
‘Have you spoken to her since?’
‘No.’
‘Does Tilly know? About you and Drew, I mean.’
Again, Max shakes his head. ‘We’ve been figuring out how to tell her.’
‘OK,’ Joseph says. ‘OK.’ He drums his fingers. ‘So, right now, where’s the …’ he begins, and finds he can’t bring himself to saybody. He pauses, unsticks his brain, tries again. ‘This guy you hit. Where is he?’
Max’s jaw bulges. Then he says, ‘In the boot of my car.’
FIVE
Joseph groans, feels like he’s just taken a cricket bat to the gut. Because this keeps getting worse.
Watching his father’s reaction, Max says, ‘I thought about calling the police, explaining. Then I remembered about the insurance and MOT. I couldn’t just leave the guy in the road. So I … I dragged him out of sight. After that, I drove home to figure out what to do.’