The bus station was closed for the night. A woman in a red coat sat waiting for a bus that wouldn’t come for another six hours. Her hair was messy, her face streaked with mascara and there was a pink, plastic suitcase at her feet.
A phone kept ringing out in her pocket. The fourth time she answered it and shouted something Polish and aggressive into the receiver before hanging up.
Twenty minutes later a battered Mondeo pulled into the bus bay. The woman grabbed her suitcase and clambered into the front seat without saying a word to the driver.
