‘Operation Munchie. Way to go.’ ‘It was your idea,’ said Dave. ‘Bollocks it was,’ said Stevie, laughing. ‘Get some munchies from that van? Bollocks it was.’ ‘Whatever.’ Dave began to scroll vacantly through Facebook on his HTC, and Natalie struck a lighter and applied the flame to the spliff. The tip glowed orange, then dimmed, then glowed again. ‘After you, madam,’ said Stevie, ‘wouldn’t mind a puff.’ ‘You’re supposed to be driving,’ said Natalie, coughing, ‘you can’t.’ ‘Just one toke,’ said Stevie. ‘We’re not going to move for ages.’ ‘You don’t know that,’ said Natalie. ‘You just want to keep it all for yourself,’ said Stevie. ‘Selfish sket.’ ‘Relax,’ said Dave, pocketing his phone and taking the spliff from the girl. He was in an awkward position, twisted round in the front seat. His eyes were stinging. ‘There’s more than enough to go round.’ ‘I’m feeling quite sort of lean already,’ said Natalie, flopping back in her seat.
