12
It was the hottest part of the hottest day, not that the increase in the already unbearable heat mattered. Steven remained quiet, concentrating on the miserably slow traffic and trying not to think about what kind of reaction he might get when he turned up at Norman Hill’s house later. Would he even make it there by tonight? At this speed it was looking increasingly unlikely.
It was difficult to stay focused with Roy’s constant chatter. The noise grated on his nerves, wearing him down, and he was beginning to regret giving him a lift. He’d have got rid of him if he could have come up with a viable way of doing so. Even if he physically manhandled him out of the car, the queue of traffic was moving so painfully slowly that Roy would be able to just amble along and get back in again.
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