'I pulled the same trick as all the other times,' Flinty was saying. 'We never bothered with all that smashing windows and shorting out the ignition malarkey. Far too complicated. I just used to squeeze into a crowded bar and pick someone's keys out of their pocket. I always chose some herbert with red braces knocking back bottles of Corona with a poncey bit of lemon stuffed in the neck. Never could stand that type.'

I noticed Spud watching me closely as I toyed with the beer can in my hand, my mind churning over the strands of evidence that seemed to be coming together.

'When we got outside there was six inches of snow and we found out I'd palmed the keys to a black Golf GTI.'

My heart missed a beat. The burnt-out Golf had been black.

'The roads were like an ice rink and off we went, drifting around every corner, doing 180s on the bypass. Then we took it to the industrial estate and practised doing donuts. It was just like on Top Gear.'

***

It all added up. I'd often wondered why I never heard from either of them after Paul died. They must have known about it from the newspapers. It had even made the local TV news. Neither of them had called me or shown up at the funeral. At the time I convinced myself they just felt awkward and didn't know what to say to me. Now I was sure it was guilt, and their disappearance from Swindon shortly afterwards strengthened my conviction.

I could easily imagine how it had happened. Stuck in town on Christmas Eve with no buses running and reluctant to pay for a taxi, the obvious solution was to jack a car. They would have had some fun and then driven to my house, probably intending to collect me to save me a walk to the Oak through the snow. Flinty was a mad driver. He probably took the turn into my street far too fast, skidded onto the pavement and hit a kid pulling a sledge. It was dark and snowing. They wouldn't have known the kid was Paul. But if only they'd stopped to help, my brother would still be alive.

But that might have risked getting caught with a stolen car so, instead ... they left him to die.

Every muscle in my body was rigid and I had an overwhelming urge to dive across the table and throttle Flinty. But I knew I couldn't fight Spud. He was far bigger and stronger than me.

I had to get out for some fresh air and get myself under control. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly nine p.m.

'I'm going outside to phone Lynn,' I muttered. 'I have to tell her I won't be home tomorrow.'

***

I called my wife and told her about the fog. She wasn't very pleased but had seen it for herself on News at Six so she knew I was telling the truth. She said there was chaos right across the north of England. I kept it short, saying a brief goodnight to my girls, not feeling in a suitable frame of mind for singing songs to them. Then I disconnected and stood next to Sharon, wondering what to do. I paced up and down on the side with no window and then realised I could hear Spud and Flinty talking inside.

'Just be careful what you're saying,' I heard Spud hiss. 'I'm telling you he suspects something and there's no way I'm going inside again.'

'But I haven't said anything,' Flinty whined. 'There's no way he knows it was us and he wouldn't be able to prove it anyway, not after twenty years.'

That was enough for me. I'd heard all I needed to hear. It was time to make them pay for what they'd done. But first, I needed Sharon's ignition key.

***

I went back inside, rubbing my hands and complaining that it was freezing outside.

'Everything alright?' Spud asked. 'We didn't hear you singing your spider song.'

'No, it was engaged. I'll try again a bit later,' I lied. 'Hey, Flinty, how about running the engine for a while to get this place warmed up?'

'Sure,' Flinty shrugged. He dug out Sharon's key and as he reached over the seat to start the engine I poured the remainder of the whisky into my glass and gulped it down greedily.

'I need warming up after being out there,' I said briskly.

'Bloody hell, Simmo!' Flinty griped. 'You've finished the bottle!'

'Don't worry ... there's plenty more in the shop,' I told him, taking out my wallet. 'Why don't you two go and get some more supplies while I try the wife again?'

'He just wants some privacy to whisper sweet nothings,' Spud joked as Flinty plucked the last few banknotes from my hand.

***

As soon as they had disappeared into the fog I climbed behind Sharon's wheel and waited a couple of minutes to give them time to enter the building. Then I drove slowly around the parking area with no lights on until I was on the thoroughfare that went past the main entrance. I stopped where I could just make out the brightly lit area under the canopy where the usual group of smokers had congregated. Incensed, I sat squinting through the smeared windscreen, waiting for them to emerge.

I didn't have to wait long. I saw the two familiar figures appear in the fog, one taller than the other by a full head, both carrying a white carrier bag.

Sharon took an age to build up speed, even with my foot pressed flat to the floor, but I must have been doing 40 mph when I hit them with a loud bang. They went down like ninepins under the van's steel front bumper. I braked to a stop and looked in the door mirror. Two bodies were lying on the ground but, as I watched, one of them, I'm sure it was Spud, raised an arm. Slamming the gear lever into reverse I put my foot down again and felt the wheels go over their bodies. Then, just to make sure I drove forward over them once more. The sensation of soft flesh being crushed under Sharon's wheels was nauseating, but I didn't care. 

Several of the smokers were running across from the entrance as I flung open the driver's door. It fell off and clattered onto the ground just as Flinty had warned it would. I smiled grimly to myself. This could definitely be classed as an emergency.

***

No-one tried to stop me as I walked through the smokers and into the services.

'Can someone please call the police? There's been an accident,' I called out on my way to the restroom, where I was violently sick.