Page 137 of Maybe Tomorrow

He turned to look at Leo. ‘Everything.’

ChapterSixty-Two

Monday 13th November 1995

It was pitch-dark, a strong breeze was blowing, and rain was lashing down from all angles. It was 8:30pm and he was late. He drove through the streets in his black BMW at speed, ignoring the treacherous weather conditions. He swung the car to the right, not bothering to indicate, which triggered a sharp blast on the horn from an oncoming vehicle. He didn’t give them a second thought.

Coming up to a level crossing, the lights had started flashing and the barrier slowly started to fall. He didn’t have time for this. He slammed his foot down hard on the accelerator and charged through, out the other side and continued his journey.

It wasn’t long before he saw flashing blue lights in his rear-view mirror. The siren came on.

‘Shit,’ he said to himself.

He slowed down his speed. The police car caught up with him, drew level, and signalled for him to pull over. He didn’t have any other choice.

He turned off the engine, lowered the driver’s-side window, and recoiled at the blast of wind.

‘Good evening,’ he said to the uniformed police officer.

‘In a hurry?’

‘I’m afraid I am, yes. I’m very late.’

‘I’m assuming you’d rather get there alive.’

‘Of course.’

‘You realise you drove through a level crossing with its warning lights flashing?’

He nodded. ‘Yes, I know. Normally, I wouldn’t. But, I’m sorry, I really am in a terrible hurry.’

‘Better to get there late in one piece than not there at all, sir.’

‘I know what you’re saying, I really do. Look, I’m aware what I did was wrong and it will carry some kind of penalty.’

‘I’m afraid it’s a little more serious than that.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Have you been drinking at all, this evening, sir?’

‘No. I haven’t.’

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘I’m… ah… actually, I may have had a glass of wine at lunch.’

‘Just the one glass, was it?’

‘I… no.’ He started to remember a lunch that lasted longer than expected. He suddenly realised he could be in a great deal of trouble here. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I…’

‘If you could blow into this for me, please, sir,’ the officer said, handing over the breathalyser.

‘Ah, is this really necessary?’

‘I wouldn’t have handed it to you if it wasn’t. Just blow into it nice and steady until I tell you to stop.’

He looked at the officer, took the breathalyser from him and composed himself. He licked his lips, took a deep breath, and blew, slowly, into the machine.