Chapter 5
The driver tried to calm himself, but his breath came out ragged, like he’d been running. He’d have to be careful. It wouldn’t do to have an accident now.
His gloved hands rested on the steering-wheel in their customary three o’clock and nine o’clock position.
He concentrated on smooth gear changes and soft braking.
A kind of self-hypnosis. Imagine a pint of beer on the dashboard, his instructor had always said.
Drive like you don’t want to spill a drop.
It was harder, of course, with all the fuss about the raids.
Cars and buses stopped without notice. People hurried across the roads, aiming for the nearest shelter. But none of it seemed real.
He’d done it again. The thing that had been dominating his waking hours for months. How long had it been since the last time? It had been just after war had broken out. The blackout and all that.
He always worried, and this time was no different. He’d have left a clue. All the detective novels were clear on that point. There’s always a mistake. Always a clue. The dogged investigator will pull that thread until the whole enterprise unravels. But so far he’d been lucky. Got away with it.
This time, though, there’d be no detective.
No unravelling thread. It was too good to be true.
A delicious gift. Everyone would think she’d been on the bus.
A tragedy, of course. But a gift to him, nonetheless.
The bomber had given him a way of taking the girl he never could have dreamt of.
A girl who was undoubtedly dead. Killed by Hitler.
There’d be a mass burial for all the victims. Paperwork rushed through for those who couldn’t be identified.
Sorrowful headlines in the papers. A public inquiry into the safety of buses in wartime.
But no investigations.
She was all his.
Free to do with as he wished. No one to slap his hand and tell him to keep his dirty thoughts to himself.
He calmed his breathing. Not out of the woods yet. Get her to the shelter – safely underground. Out of sight, out of mind.
As he waited at a traffic light, he allowed himself a quick look. She was asleep. As beautiful as ever. If anything, she’d grown more beautiful as the years went by, growing into womanhood, as he’d always known she would.
A shaft of late-afternoon sunlight rested on her face. A shame, he thought.
The last time she’d feel the sun on her face.