Toby sucked on the last of his roll-up. In fact that was the last of his tobacco, his pouch was well and truly empty. Maybe he could scrounge a smoke during his break time, some kind person might help him out. He shook his head, dreading actually arriving at his new job, the job he never wanted in the first place. If it wasn’t for the cowbag at the job centre penalising him for turning up late, he’d have received his benefit money. Instead, him turning up to explain that he’d fallen out of bed, hurting his ankle, hadn’t been convincing enough. It was an excuse, he knew that, but overslept isn’t a reason they take pity on and he had genuinely overslept. Alarm didn’t go off – yeah, right. He’d left with a lecture on timekeeping and information on a lead for work with a local job agency.

He shook his head as he flicked the nub end onto the grassy verge. Whizzing around the bends of the snaking Warwickshire roads in his trusty old car felt like freedom. That freedom was soon to end and be replaced by some jumped-up line manager shouting orders all day. A little weasel of a human who was way less qualified than him. He pulled the sun visor down. Seven in the morning on a Saturday. Who works these kind of anti-social hours? Him, apparently – for at least the next six weeks. That’s when the dreaded minimum wage contract finished, unless his nightmare was to come true and they’d offer him a permanent job. No, the strategy was to go in, do the minimum required, show no aptitude for more, don’t be too productive, and escape to the toilet as often as possible. Steal a toilet roll. He’d run out and no benefit money meant no toilet rolls. He’d come back with a few tins from the food bank last night but no toilet roll. It wasn’t thieving, it was survival. Besides, he’d make it up to society when he discovered himself and finally decided what direction his life was going in.

The July sun already made him sweat. At least it would be cool at the meat packing factory. If the heat or lack of breakfast didn’t make him queasy, the sight of portioned up dead animals and being surrounded by the metallic aroma of blood certainly would. It was gone seven fifteen and he was meant to be there for his induction in a few minutes. He pushed the tape into his old cassette player and ‘Ace of Spades’ by Motorhead filled his little car. With every stretch his speed increased. There was nothing on the road. It was fun time. As he sped out of the bends he shouted the lyrics as the chorus came on and banged his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat.

His dad would be so proud – not. He imagined his dad giving him that father to son lecture about wasting his degree. He never wanted to be a dentist anyway. He hated people’s yellow teeth, their gingivitis and their chapped lips and gumboils. His father may have bullied him into doing dentistry, but he was a man now and he’d make his own choices. Right now, he chose to live alone in his bedsit, run his banger of a car, and take odd jobs followed by long stretches of free time. That suited him just fine. ‘Up yours, Dad,’ he shouted as he sped around the last bend where the road merged into Laurel Lane.

Lemmy’s voice boomed through his car for the finale chorus as he came out of the bend. As the low sun dazzled him, the back doors of the white van in front suddenly opened. Slamming his brakes on, he skidded as a person slipped out, landing on the road just in front of Toby’s car. The van continued at speed along Laurel Lane with the back doors flapping open. Lemmy stopped singing and birdsong broke the silence before the next track came on. Toby rolled his window down further and listened for any sound of human pain but there was nothing.

Gasping as his heart hammered, he peered through the windscreen. The person was no longer there. He wiped his sweaty brow with his sleeve and Alice Cooper began singing the opening to ‘Poison’. He slammed the flat of his hand into the tape player and the tape ejected.

Shaking, he opened the creaky car door, giving it a shove to widen the gap enough for him to get out. He checked the time, seven thirty. He’d really blown it. With reporting the incident and making a statement, there was no way on earth he’d be making work today. A murmur came from the front of the car. With wobbly legs, he took one step followed by another until he spotted the girl. ‘Shit.’ He kneeled down as comfortably as his lanky frame would allow and grabbed his phone, calling the emergency services. The girl tried to speak but instead of words, flecks of blood came from her mouth, spraying his T-shirt.

‘Ambulance, and police, Laurel Lane, Warwickshire. There’s been an accident and a girl has been hurt. You need to get someone here quick, mate,’ he yelled as he tried to stop the bleeding from the girl’s abdomen. Blood flowed over his quivering hands. He let her go and removed his T-shirt, rolled it up and pressed it against the open wound on her side, stemming the flow. ‘Talk to me,’ he yelled as the girl drifted in and out of consciousness. He wanted to turn her over into the recovery position but he knew better. He might make her injuries worse if her bones were broken.

The young girl was covered in dirt and the smell coming from her almost made him want to gag. Her straggly hair half covered her gaunt face and he cringed at the sight of her plaque covered teeth. As he held the T-shirt to her bony side, he could feel that there was nothing to her. He wished she’d come around again but it wasn’t looking good.

His mind flashed back to the white van. He had to remember as much as possible. Had he run her over? No, he hadn’t heard a bump and there was no sign of damage on his bonnet or bumper. He had been speeding. He knew he had. There was a forty sign on the stretch before and he’d been going at least fifty coming out of the bend. He hadn’t run her over though, she’d fallen in front of him, came from nowhere out of the back of a large van.

He had no MOT on his car. Was his insurance still valid? He racked his brains but couldn’t remember. The MOT was a month overdue. Damn, he wouldn’t escape this without a fine, points and a ticking off, all because of someone else, nothing to do with him.

No one knew his name; he could just get back in, turn Alice Cooper up to full volume and keep driving.

He looked at the girl and thought of what his dad would say and he knew on this occasion his dad would be right. He would stay with her and take whatever punishment came his way. It’s not like he had any prior convictions and he hadn’t hurt her. He’d just tell the truth. With his other hand, he stroked her thin wisps of red hair and whispered, ‘An ambulance is on its way. Just hold on.’

The heat from the sun was burning his lily-white bare back. He really needed a smoke to calm his nerves but now he had no chance. The more of her features he took in, the more he noticed how unusual she looked. All skin and bone, blemishes and chapped lips. She had a starved, dehydrated look about her. ‘What happened?’ he asked as he continued stroking her hair to the sound of the approaching sirens.

As the ambulance pulled up, the girl’s body jerked. Trying to hear what she was saying, he leaned in closer feeling her desperate breaths on his neck.

‘Help her,’ the girl managed to whisper before her body flopped in his arms.

‘Wake up. Wake up,’ he yelled as her body began to jerk and fit.