‘Not terribly interested in cars, old boy.’

‘Well it pulled out immediately we had passed. Nothing unusual in that, except that it is still with us and the hood is up, which is hardly fitting when it’s so hot. Added to that, it has kept to the same speed as us ever since.’

‘Why is that strange?’

‘It’s a J12, capable of well over a ton.’

‘Not on this road, surely?’ Peter said.

‘Be great fun on this road,’ Cal insisted.

The passing lorry cut out the sunlight, easing past with about an inch to spare. With the road clear again Cal moved off, his eyes rarely off what was happening behind, the lorry being forced onto the side embankment and skirting the ditch to get past the wider Hispano-Suiza.

‘You think it’s the law?’ Peter asked.

‘Not in that kind of car, it costs a bloody fortune. Bugger stopped when we did, as if he didn’t want to get too close, and is now moving again, but not getting any nearer. If I was driving that kind of motor I would have been right up the arse of this little thing, flashing my bloody great headlights and leaning on the horn to get by.’

‘You sound just like Toad of Toad Hall, old chap,’ Peter responded calmly, before adding, ‘I take it that it might be worth a few precautions.’

‘Look under your seat, Peter; attached to the bottom there’s an oilskin pouch with a Mauser inside.’

‘I’m not sure that’s very wise,’ Peter replied. ‘If I am fingered here I will be in the soup regardless, without firing off a weapon on foreign turf.’

‘Just do as I ask, Peter, there’s a good chap. You came along because you elected to do so, not because you were invited.’

‘Fair enough,’ came the reply, after a moment’s consideration.

The gun was fetched out and one of the two detached full magazines inspected, before being rammed home and the weapon cocked, though with the safety on. Cal kept to the same pace as before, there being no point in increasing speed; this Simca could not outrun any kind of roadster, never mind one of the best on the market.