Alex stared at the front right tyre which seemed less inflated than the front left. “Don’t say I told you so,” he said in a tight voice.

I said nothing.

He sighed. “We can’t drive further on this. We’ll damage the wheel. He pulled out his mobile phone. “I’ll ring it into HQ. We have a contract with a roadside assistance company. I should have the details in the email Imelda sent me.”

I decided not to mention that we’d already driven on the puncture while we hunted for a safe stopping place. “Where is Imelda on holidays?”

“She’s touring the Scottish highlands in a camper van. She won’t answer calls from HQ but she said we can call if we’re stuck.”

I tried Imelda while he rang HQ. Her n...

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