I don’t usually go to the burger takeaway opposite the car park – it’s got poor online ratings, and someone told me it nearly got shut down over a hygiene issue – but I’d been out for lunch in town and continued drinking through the afternoon, and when I passed it on my way home in the early evening, it suddenly looked incredibly appealing. I walked in and ordered a cheeseburger with an onion ring and barbecue sauce.
‘You said an onion ring and barbecue sauce?’ asked the server behind the counter – who looked to be about 19.
I confirmed this was correct, and he smiled and nodded and went to make it up. It seemed to take a long time, but I was in no rush. He returned to the counter with a clamshell box, which he handed to me, saying ‘You already paid, yeah?’
I should have owned up that I hadn’t. But I was drunk and I just thought, Free burger. I’m not proud of it. I said ‘Yeah’ and walked out.
As I walked down the street, I opened the box and lifted the burger out – and revealed there was something underneath. A car key. It was hard to see how it might have got there by accident – why would you be holding a car key while preparing a burger? I examined the underside of my burger and saw an impression of the key. It looked very much as if the bread had been deliberately pushed down so the key would be concealed.
I should have just walked back to the takeaway and asked what this was doing there. It probably belonged to the kid who’d served me, or another employee. But I idly clicked the unlock button on the fob – and through the evening gloom, a set of headlights flashed in the car park. The car park was just one of those flat tarmac ones, and the car that had flashed was a couple of rows back. I crossed the road, entered the car park and pressed the button again, so I could get a fix on which car it was. I walked over to it: a dark grey Volkswagen Golf, about five years old.
It was absurd of course to think I could just drive off in this car. Apart from anything else I was too drunk to drive. But being drunk, I was also entertaining ways I might be able to keep the car, as I had the key. I would never normally do this, I swear.
I opened the door. A suit was hanging up on the hook in the back, with a brand-new phone in the jacket pocket, and a cardboard folder on the passenger seat. I sat in the driver’s seat, put my burger on the dashboard and opened the folder: inside was a passport and driver’s licence, along with further identity documents, a Yale key and instructions for accessing a bank account. The picture on the passport and driver’s licence was not me, but looked a little like me.
Someone knocked on the car window: a middle-aged woman wearing a red polo shirt with the name of the burger takeaway on it.
‘I think Lee gave you a car key by mistake?’ she said.
I quickly got out of the car. ‘Yes, he did.’
She smiled. ‘I expect you were just looking in the car to see who it might belong to, weren’t you.’
‘That’s it, yes.’ I closed the door and handed the key to her.
‘Thought so,’ she said as she took it and locked the car. ‘Sorry, Lee’s a bit daft.’
She waited for me to step away from the car, then she followed behind me. As we reached the street, I saw someone standing inside the takeaway, leaning on the counter, who looked a lot like the passport photo. I turned and headed down the street.
It was a couple of minutes before I realised I’d left my burger in the car. But instead of going back for it, I kept walking and went to McDonald’s.
I'm reading the Slough House novels now so, of course, I see this an incident that dangles off the plot in one of the books. An event which ends up getting a couple people killed. In short, it's perversely cheery! Well done.