~36~

LARISSA JUMPED BACK INTO THE CAR and slammed the door.

‘She got into a fucking cab! Come on, let’s go. Airport.’

The lights changed on the intersection and a crossing button on a pole nearby started to tick, the sound padded and flatulent like a toy machine-gun, and people spilled onto the street, surrounding the BMW in a small sea of bank-logo umbrellas.

‘Move, Jack!’

‘You want me to run people over?’

The work-rush splashed on: nobody looked into the car as they walked past, nobody saw the beautiful girl with the gun in her hand. Everyday life streamed by. Heads were down, eyes trained on the puddles in the street.

Larissa was shaking her head, anger welling freely as she scowled at the people passing the car.

Jack had his hand on the door, ready to pop it and run.

‘I’m going to kill that bitch.’

The lights changed. The last few pedestrians passed in front of the car.

‘Go!’

Jack opened the door and jumped out of the Beamer.

Nobody shot him as he ran to the footpath.

He stood back from the road, under an awning, safe among his fellow citizens with takeaway coffee cups to their lips. He looked into the car. The windows were fogged up and streaked with rain and it was difficult to see inside. Three seconds later, the engine came to screeching life and the BMW sped off down the hill. A green light released more traffic behind it and the car disappeared into a river of flickering steel and light.

Jack stood there for a moment longer, getting himself together. As wet and wrung out as the day he was born.