Besides, who gave a shit if someone used their mobile phone in a car – Sam knew what he was doing, even if Johnno was gritting his shit by being his usual idiot self. ‘Don’t fucking argue with me, and don’t ask questions – just fucking do it!’ he yelled. The traffic was intense, everyone seemed to be milling around all over the place, it seemed that there wasn’t much left that wouldn’t boil his piss today. With the phone wedged under his chin he swung the car into the right-hand lane, swiftly pulling past a battered van and ignoring the indignant sound of its horn. Johnno’s voice babbled at him over the airwaves. ‘Tell Stefan to go fuck himself, Pascoe will have his goods by midnight. Now go and do what I’ve told you to do, or it won’t be Pascoe you’re worried about, it will be me!’ Satisfied that he’d made himself clear, he threw the phone onto the passenger seat and put his foot down, blithely ignoring the battered van that had undertaken him on the left and was now attempting to pull out, its feeble indicator obscured by the duct tape that held it together.
