Meg – Present day
Monday
The road swooped into the valley, its sun-beaten tarmac melting into the hillside. The car smelled of petrol and hot plastic, and the steering wheel stuck to my hands. DS Jai Sanghera was sprawling in the passenger seat beside me, legs thrown apart, head back, and we were embroiled in a pointless argument in which I’d found myself defending his girlfriend for a reason I could no longer remember.
Jai’s manspreading was reaching such critical levels it was impeding my access to the gearstick. ‘I know you’re hot,’ I said. ‘No need to turn it into performance art.’
Jai dragged himself forward to fiddle with his air vent. ‘Let’s just agree to disagree,