The Carrier
say.’
    What?
Oh, for goodness’ sake.
    ‘If Silas did play for Manchester United . . . Dad?’
    ‘Hm? Sorry, darling, I was just trying to get a sense of where we are.’
    ‘If Silas played for Manchester United, would you support them, or would you still support Stoke City?’
    ‘Mum, listen, I need you to ring Jason for me. You’re going to have to make-up some bullshit. I’ve told him I’m at yours. Yeah. You’ll have to tell him I’ve got sick and can’t talk. Tell him I’ll be back in the morning.’
    I tap her on the arm, shake my head.
    ‘Hang on, Mum, Gaby’s saying no.’
    ‘If you were sick you wouldn’t know when you’d be better,’ I say. ‘Tell her to tell him you’ll ring him as soon as you’re well enough – hopefully tomorrow morning, but you can’t be sure. Keep it vague.’
    Lauren nods. She passes on a less coherent version of my instructions to her mother. If she’s lucky, they’ll work.
    I have just helped the willing facilitator of a serious miscarriage of justice to avoid getting bollocked for lying to her husband. If asked why I did it, I don’t think I’d be able to explain. Oh well. Since I’m doomed to live out the rest of my days on a German coach, I don’t suppose it matters much.
    ‘Ah, this must be the hotel!’ the man behind me says to his daughter. Other people have spotted it too. Exclamations of relief erupt all over the coach. I wipe the condensation off the window, take one look at the building we’ve pulled up outside and wonder what’s wrong with them all. All this inconvenience, and Fly4You couldn’t even put us up somewhere decent? We’re to spend the night in this squat, grey, featureless building with tiny windows, by the side of a dual carriageway?
    ‘Lauren.’ I jab her in the ribs with my elbow.
    ‘I’ve got to go, Mum, we’re at the hotel. I’ll ring you in a bit. But you’ll tell Jason, yeah? Yeah, I’ll stay with Gaby.’ She drops her phone into her bag. ‘Thank fuck for that,’ she says. ‘Here at last. My mum says I have to make sure I stay with you.’ She stretches her arms above her head, releasing a gust of sweat mixed with floral deodorant.
    ‘We’re not staying here,’ I decide aloud.
    ‘What do you mean we’re not staying here? Why have they brought us here, then?’
    ‘Everyone else is staying here, but you and I are going to find ourselves a different hotel. A better one. This one looks like condemned council flats.’
    ‘What fucking planet are you on? It’s the middle of the night!’
    ‘Trust me: this place will be bad in every way.’ I pull my BlackBerry out of my bag. ‘We’ll find the nearest five-star hotel to Cologne airport.’
    ‘Five-star hotel?’ Lauren does a whole-body twitch, as if I’ve given her an electric shock. ‘Are you shitting me, or what? I can’t afford to stay in a five-star hotel! I’m a care assistant. I don’t earn that kind of money!’
    ‘I’ll pay for everything. I’ll pay for your room.’
Which I’ll try to ensure is several floors away from mine.
I’m starting to crave space – specifically, space that doesn’t contain Lauren. ‘My treat.’
    ‘
No!
’ She bursts into tears.
    I’m so taken aback, all I can do is stare at her. ‘No?’ Her reaction makes even less sense to me than my offer. Why aren’t I taking this opportunity to go my separate way? There’s nothing stopping me from finding a five-star hotel on my own.
    Except that I’ve heard her tell two people that I’m looking after her. And her mother and stepmother both seem to think she needs to stay with me.
    In my real life, I wouldn’t put up with it; in this alternative universe, my role seems to be to supervise Lauren with a view to improving her. I can think of lots of ways: first break down her resistance to good hotels, then boost her vocabulary, then tackle her willingness to see blameless men framed for murders they haven’t committed . . .
    ‘No!’ She shakes her head

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