East of Hounslow: A funny, clever and addictive spy thriller, shortlisted for a CWA Dagger 2018. Khurrum Rahman

give the uniform the slightest of nods as the traffic lights turned green and the patrol car turned towards the police station. And we went in the opposite direction.

      I waited a minute‚ thinking maybe there was another car park for unmarked police cars. When that didn’t materialise my mind went into overdrive. I couldn’t think of one rational reason why they wouldn’t have taken me to Hounslow Nick and then with a jolt I realised that when they had arrested me‚ they hadn’t read out my rights or my charges.

      I started to see signs for Isleworth and then Brentford and the next thing I knew we were on the fucking motorway.

      ‘Where we going?’ I was frightened as to what the response might be. And they gave me the most unnerving response possible.

      Silence.

      I looked at the back of their heads. I could see their side profiles and they carried no-nonsense‚ business-like expressions on their faces.

      They definitely weren’t the police and this was definitely not an arrest.

      Was I was getting kidnapped? I know how that sounded‚ but I couldn’t think of any other explanation. Could this be Silas’ doing? He had always been one for the dramatics but I still had two days left before my deadline.

      I positioned myself so I had my back towards the door and I could just about grip the handle. But then what? Even if they hadn’t locked me in‚ what was I going to do? Jump out onto the motorway with the car doing north of seventy? I glanced around the car‚ desperately searching for other options. A boot to the side of the driver’s face would cause the car to veer‚ leading to a possible distraction. But at this speed‚ on the motorway‚ with a Heavy Goods Vehicle in the next lane‚ there was every chance that I could end up in a far worse situation than I was in already.

      My shoulders ached because of the unnatural position my chained hands were in. If shit kicked off and I had to defend myself‚ I would have no chance with my hands trapped behind my back. I had to try and bring them to my front. I pushed my shoulders back as far as they could go and tried to slide my hands from underneath. It was a tricky manoeuvre and I almost popped my shoulder at one point. Hollywood made everything look so easy. I was seriously out of breath and my hands were now trapped under my arse. Every muscle in my upper body screamed to give up. So I did.