[ How fast was he driving? Rupert's not entirely sure, truth be told, nor is he about to apologise for it. He shrugs, regretting the movement for the immediate eye-watering pain it brings to his battered neck. ]

Fast enough. Although evidently not fast enough to kill us all, [ Rupert replies through gritted teeth before slowly, heavily, letting himself sit down on the pavement regardless of who might notice them. If they've got half an hour then he's at least going to rest his aching bones - god, is this what it's like to be old? Rupert would shudder if he wasn't quite sure it would hurt. ]

And I imagine the car's not here because it hasn't arrived yet. Do correct me if I'm wrong, Jonas.