A brief pause. His dark eyes darted to the mirror.
‘Thanks for the heads-up.’
‘What?’ I asked from my current position, sort of crouched along the seat on my hands and knees. While this might not be the safest way to travel, it helped me feel less as if I were going to split in two, and seeing as the fastest we’d managed in the past forty-five minutes was five miles per hour, I wasn’t too bothered. ‘What’s the heads-up?’
He gave a small sigh.
‘Not telling me is only making me panic.’
I waited another half a minute. ‘Now I’m really worried.’
‘The traffic jam is caused by a major accident up ahead, completely closing the road off. We could try heading back out of the city and in through Hucknall, but a lot of the roads that way are impassable.’
‘What are we going to do?’
What I really meant was, ‘What are you going to do, random stranger who I’m assigning the role of hero?’ I would have been twice as anxious if it weren’t for the impassive solidity of the man in front of me. He seemed capable of handling anything. He knew these streets inside out so he could find another way. Failing that, he was a doctor. What were the chances of my driver being trained in obstetrics?
‘Hang on, I have to take this.’
Unlike the two previous ignored calls that I’d nosily noticed were from somebody called Tanya, this time he answered her.
‘Hey. I’m sorry… I’m stuck in traffic… I have a woman in the car in labour… Shona tried, they said an ambulance would be hours. Suggested we call the fire brigade. I know, Tanya. I know I promised this wouldn’t happen again. Is everything okay, though?… Yes. The last time. I know. Can I bring you back anything – wine, chocolate?… Okay. Thank you. You know how much I appreciate you. Yep. Action not words. I’ll see you soon. Bye.’
He leant his head back with a weary sigh.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve got you into trouble.’
‘Not your fault.’
‘Will Tanya be really mad?’
‘Not your problem.’ He turned and raised his eyebrows at me. ‘Besides, we’ve got bigger things to worry about right now. Like?—’
He was interrupted by a deep-bellied, primal groan.
Later, I might be embarrassed about swaying on the back seat, head hanging low like a cow about to birth a calf. Right now, as the man said, I had far bigger problems that were only getting bigger.
‘What’s your name?’ I ground out through a clenched jaw.
‘What?’ he asked, as if that was the last thing he expected me to say.
‘This all might feel slightly less undignified if I knew your name,’ I panted, moving back into a sitting position.
‘Oh. It’s Beckett.’
‘Hey, Beckett, very nice to meet you. I’m Mary.’
‘Okay, so – Mary – we aren’t going to make it to the hospital.’
I said nothing, too stricken to form a sentence.
‘You asked what we’re going to do. I’m thinking… this.’
And then he suddenly U-turned into the opposite side of the road, which was empty thanks to the road closure ahead, accelerated about thirty metres back the way we’d come, slowed for a sharp turn into a small side road, then skidded to a stop in front of a large, boxy building.
We sat for a moment. The windscreen wipers on high swished in time with my hammering heart.
Lights in the ground-floor windows shimmered through the twirling flakes, and the small area of tarmac contained about half a dozen cars, already covered in a couple of inches of snow. I glanced at the clock – ten-thirty.
