“Damn it!” He shouted. “We won’t get through, it’s too narrow.”

He carried on anyway. It was tight, so tight that the wing mirrors alternately scraped the walls as the van accelerated down the alley.

The moment the van headed towards the alley, the men leapt back into their car and the driver reversed back up the road past the turning, then forward into it, blue smoke pouring from the front tyres of the red car. They were in hot pursuit, after the van.

Carla’s plan, the one she was working on all last night, suddenly hatched. She had that gift of inspired thought under pressure, and it was only just in time.

“Stop at the end of the alley so we can open the cab doors and get out,” she shouted.

Concentrating fully on keeping off the walls, Max only managed a fleeting glance, towards Carla. What was she up to? What was going on? Who were the men chasing him, and why?

Carla turned off the ignition and pulled out the key causing the racing engine to cut out, she pushed the gear lever into neutral as the van started to slow.

Max did not have the opportunity to ask why.

The pursuing car, rammed into the van’s tow bar, trying to push the van forward, out of the ally. Another lightning mind had already anticipated Carla.

Max braked hard as he approached the road junction and stopped the van half in, half out of the alley.

Carla had already grabbed Max’s jacket, her bag, and briefcase and was climbing around the front seat, to get out. Max did the same and followed Carla in the main street.

There was no way for the light car to push the 2 ton van forward out of the alley, it only succeeded in burning rubber as the wheels spun on the smooth cobbles, impaling itself deeper onto the tow bar. The rear nudge bar stopped any further advance.

Although the men could get out of their car on one side, they could not get past the van, so the driver reversed hard, leaving bits of his vehicle hanging off the tow bar. The car shot backwards straight as an arrow, down the alley and into the main road, then headed up the next alley towards the market place.

Under cover of the crowd in the market, even at this early hour, Max and Carla slipped away.

The men searched the van as the car drove off, but did not find what they wanted. The bandaged passenger in the car made mobile phone calls, alerting other searchers for Carla, that she had been seen, and had a man helping her. He made it clear they must be taken alive, and the briefcase, must be recovered.

Max found it difficult to keep up the brisk walk behind Carla; she glided along, weaving in and around people like someone hurrying purposefully to catch a bus. Just when it looked as though she would continue ahead, she would dart down a side street.

Max took his eyes off her for a moment, and she just seemed to disappear. He was looking about for her when she pulled him back, into the shop doorway he had just passed.

“How do you do that?” He exclaimed! You just disappeared. You know we are going round in circles, don’t you?”

“I am just checking to see if we are being followed,” replied Carla. “Right, tell me what this is all about,” Max demanded.

“Not now,” she snapped. “The answers will be no good to you if you are dead. Come in here!”

They entered the small back street shop selling sports clothing and equipment, mainly aimed at tourists. Max followed her in, feeling apprehensive about the immediate future, his breathing was fast, and deep like he had been running hard, yet the air in his lungs seemed without oxygen. He felt as though he was being smothered.

The panic attack soon passed.

The shop seemed so normal and safe; perhaps this was all an unpleasant dream. He thought; you never seem to get answers to questions in dreams, reality blends with the bizarre. You know it is wrong somehow, but cannot quite focus your mind to seek out the truth.

Max focused his mind on the reality. Carla was ordering clothes for the both of them. What was she up to now?

Large backpacks, peaked caps, dark sunglasses denim jackets and jeans and trainers. Without discussion, realizing this was some sort of disguise; Max went along with it, though he wondered who was picking up the bill for all this.

The clothes fitted well, and the two of them looked utterly transformed. For the first time since last night, Carla looked into Max’s eyes and gave him a deep warm smile. It took him by surprise. He felt himself relaxing and involuntarily, his face smiled at her in return. This happened without any conscious effort on his part, his conscious mind was still trying to take in and make sense of it all. When he realized their eyes were still locked on each other, and his face was now beaming, he felt happy, embarrassed a warm glow all over.

Pulling himself together, he broke the gaze. She turned and paid from a thick wad of high denomination Euro notes, out of Philippe’s wallet.

She asked the shopkeeper if he could recommend a good garage to repair their vehicle, it would need to be towed away, and if she could use his phone.

He was delighted to help. Speaking to the garage in fluent Italian, she explained the camper van had broken down in a side street near the market, and needed to be towed away and repaired because someone had driven into the back, as well. The garage said they knew about the van, the police had already been in touch with them, to remove the obstruction. Carla said she was on her way to the police station and would call them again to sort out payment when they had found a hotel to stay in.

Packing their old clothes and bag into the rucksacks, and Philippe’s briefcase in a large carrier bag, they left the shop hand in hand.