tyre using the tools Griffo brought along. Due to the sensible fact that we’re wearing gloves, it isn’t as easy as we expect. Still, we manage it, and each of us carries one tyre back through the pound, back to the fence where Snowy’s waiting for us. Griffo directs me to boost Mikey up onto his shoulders, then I use all of my strength to hand each tyre to Mikey, who throws the first one over the fence and almost knocks Snowy out.
‘Watch it!’ Snowy yelps.
‘Watch the tyre!’ I shriek. ‘Sorry, mate.’
The next two tyres are thrown over in the exact same manner, Mikey clearly seeing this as a bit of a joke. Nobody else finds it funny.
‘Now, Jimbo, go back for the last tyre,’ Griffo tells me.
So, back I go through the pound, tracing our steps back to my car. The quiet surrounding me is eerie, a slight squeal of wind blowing amidst the stillness of the vehicles. I’m all alone with my prize, for the first time since moments before the crash, when Elbow had been singing ‘One Day Like This’ on the radio.
‘Hey,’ I say, feeling like a dick for talking to a car.
I circle it, gloved hands stuffed into my fleece, taking it all in whilst ignoring the boot. The sides, the bonnet are still perfect. A bit of dried mud splattered from the rain gives the white finish some freckles. My ma was disgusted by it, wasn’t she? Her first thought was what the neighbours’d think. How she disappeared into its leather racing seats! The sound system’s top class; music never sounded so good. So fucking good. Saying goodbye is harder than I imagined. On the passenger side, I peer in through the window. A bow tie lies on the floor, fallen off that bloody mop. A part of Zara’s past.
I remember her bravery. Her absolute will to try and make her life better.
For all her faults and failures, I admire her. A chill runs down my spine at the prospect of how Zara’s likely to react to my own faults and failures, the ones I never admitted to. Her innocence handed me a fake identity on a plate and I made no effort to correct her. How can I be sure I’m doing the right thing?
Well, I can’t, can I?
I rest my gloved hand on the roof, give it a gentle pat.
‘Ta-ra,’ I say.
Getting over the first half of the fence is tricky on my own. Mikey and Griffo have already clambered over, awaiting my return with the final tyre which I have to throw over with a fuck load of strength. The second side is easier, my best mates all there to catch me. We pile the tyres into a van belonging to Griffo’s dad, one we’ve never actually seen before. The ‘crime’ is completed with a distinct lack of drama.
‘He’s going to Dubai!’ Griffo shouts, speeding out of Haddon Park Way. ‘Woo hoo!’
‘Thanks to Mikey,’ I say.
‘Why Mikey?’ Griffo asks.
‘Well, thanks to you, too, Griff. For sorting tonight out, like. But it was Mikey who got in touch with that Leon fella, had the idea that planted the seed—’
‘Nah,’ Mikey says. ‘Wasn’t me. I was roped in.’
‘Oh?’
I turn to my favourite, my very best mate, sitting squashed up beside me.
‘You?’ I ask Snowy.
Snowy grins, raises his eyebrows, although he’s missing his usual spark.
‘It was your idea for me to go and find Zara?’
‘It was indeed,’ he confirms. ‘I mean, how else was I ever gonna keep you away from Helen?’
God. I feel my heart collapse inside my chest, a million apologies etching into my face. Snowy smiles at me, perhaps acknowledging my guilt, or perhaps because he’s finally getting the girl he wants all to himself.
‘Mate …’ I try.
‘Nah,’ Snowy says, dismissively.
Everything’s out in the open now and there’s no going back.
33
Zara
I’m all checked in at Dubai International Airport. Again.
I’m travelling light this time. My spirit, too. I’m practically floating through passport control. I’m going back to England, sticking to my original plan. Yes, sure, there’s another man in the picture, but he’s not my sole reason.
I don’t think, anyway.
I’ve gone over this with myself a million times, questioning my actions. Is the man the main deal here? It’s possible. But it’s not the only deal.
I am sure of one thing, though. Jim Glover couldn’t have been just a chance meeting. His voice, his face, his attitude is imprinted within me, spurring me on to do this. I know where he lives;