And it does get an amused sidelong glance out of him, that delight over getting the car running turning straight into a low bark of laughter at that beat of panic (how nice of you, Charlie). "Yes," he chuckles, stowing the tape and wire cutters back in his kit. He unwinds the tape from his fingers and throws the Corsa into gear. "It's supposed to do that. Hold on."

Charlie isn't necessarily the world's most competent driver - he hasn't driven anything in over a year for one, and he never made it much of a habit to begin with, but he manages to get the Corsa out of it's massive parallel parking spot against the curve and gun it down the road. It's been a long time since he's been in Manchester, but he's fairly confident that if he makes enough left turns that he'll find his way to somewhere the looks familiar.