BerkshireHunt

The X46 turned sharply into the massive carpark at Hampton shopping centre, its rainwashed tarmac reflected the dusky purple sky and yellow lights. From the frontmost seat of the upper tier of the old doubledecker Heath looked lazily past the raincoated windscreen at an expanse of car roofs and bonnets. A few seats back two chavs clad in virgin white and baby blue lit a spliff. He could smell it, he craved it, though he daren't so much as look back. Instead he looked at the remains of a peeled no-smoking sticker above, and then at a drying pool of something, probably piss, which had run backward under the seats. The chavs were sniggering.