Nicky was sweating on the verge, waiting for them to locate his stash. Tanzie was a pale, silent ghost a few feet away, hugging Norman’s neck for reassurance.

Jess had only herself to blame. It could hardly get any worse.

And then Mr Nicholls turned up.

Jess almost laughed then: the whole thing was so ridiculously awful. She felt the remaining colour drain from her face as his window wound down and she saw who it was. And she realized exactly what was going to happen next, which was that he was going to tell the policemen: ‘You know what? As well as driving a car that is uninsured and without a valid tax disc and probably contains a quarter-ounce of skunk somewhere in that mouse-infested upholstery, this woman is a THIEF.’

And a million thoughts flashed through her head – like who was going to mind the children when she went to prison, and if it was Marty, would he remember things like the fact that Tanzie’s feet grew occasionally and buy her new shoes instead of waiting until her toenails curled in on her toes? And who would look after Norman? And why the hell hadn’t she done what she should have done in the first place and just given Ed Nicholls back his stupid roll of money?

But he didn’t say any of that. He just took in the scene and said, ‘Need some help?’

Policeman Number One turned slowly to look him over. He was a barrel-chested man with an upright bearing, the kind who took himself seriously, and bristled if everyone else didn’t too. ‘And you are …’

‘Edward Nicholls. I know this woman. What is it? Car trouble?’ He stared at the Rolls as if he couldn’t believe it was actually on the road.

‘You could say that,’ said Policeman Number Two.

‘Out-of-date tax disc,’ Jess muttered, trying to ignore the hammering in her chest. ‘I was trying to drive the kids somewhere. And now I guess I’m driving it home again.’

‘You’re not driving anywhere,’ said Policeman Number One. ‘Your car is now impounded. The tow truck is on its way. It is an offence under Section Thirty-three of the Vehicle Excise and Registration Act to drive on a public road without a valid tax disc. Which also means your insurance will be invalidated.’

‘I don’t have any.’

They both turned towards her.

‘The car isn’t insured. I’m not insured.’

She could see Mr Nicholls staring. What the hell? The moment they entered the details they would see it anyway. ‘We’ve had a bit of trouble. I was desperate. It was the only way I could see to get the kids from A to B.’

‘You are aware that driving your car without tax and insurance is a crime.’

She stared at her feet.

‘And carries a possible jail sentence.’

‘And it’s not my car.’ She kicked at a stone on the grass. ‘That’s the next thing you’re going to see when you do your whole database thing.’

‘Did you steal the vehicle, madam?’

‘No, I did not steal the vehicle. It’s been sitting in my garage for two years.’

‘That’s not an answer to my question.’

‘It’s my ex-husband’s car.’

‘Does he know you’ve taken it?’

‘He wouldn’t know if I had a sex change and called myself Sid. He’s been in north Yorkshire for the past –’

‘You know, you really might want to stop talking now.’ Mr Nicholls ran a hand over the top of his head.

‘Who are you, her lawyer?’

‘Does she need one?’

‘Driving without tax and insurance is an offence under Section Thirty-three –’

‘Yeah. You said. Well, I think you might want to get some advice before you say any more –’

‘Jess.’

‘Jess.’ He looked at the policemen. ‘Officers, does this woman actually need to go to the station? Because she’s obviously really, really sorry. And given the hour, I think the kids need to go home.’

‘She’ll be charged with driving without tax and insurance. Your name and address, madam?’

Jess gave it to Policeman Number One. She couldn’t muster a ‘sorry’ face. She was so cross with herself that she could barely get the words out. She watched him turn away and repeat it into his walkie-talkie. Whatever came over the airwaves seemed to satisfy him because when he turned back he looked at the kids and nodded.

‘The car is registered to that address, yes. But it’s registered under a SORN, which means –’

‘That it shouldn’t be driven on a public road. I know.’

‘You know. Shame you didn’t think about that before you came out, then, isn’t it?’ He gave her the kind of look that teachers reserve for making eight-year-olds feel small. And something in that look pushed Jess over the edge.

‘You know what?’ she said. ‘You honestly think I would have driven my kids anywhere at eleven o’clock at night if I hadn’t been desperate? You really think I just sat there this evening in my little house and thought, I know. I’ll take my kids and my bloody dog and just go and get us all into a whole heap of trouble and –’

‘It’s not my business what you were thinking, madam. My issue is you bringing an uninsured, possibly unsafe vehicle onto a public road.’

‘I was desperate, okay? And you won’t find me on your damned database because I’ve never done anything wrong –’

‘Or you just never got caught.’