Well one particularly wet night (it was London after all) I got the bus as normal, at the next stop an older lady got on and came upstairs for a smoke... other than me the upstairs was empty she looked at me and smiled she was perhaps late 40’s small frame with short black hair which was wet, I have always loved older women still do come to think of it, about half way up Cricklewood high road the bus decides to break down and the driver says it’s not going anywhere and it will be at least 30. ‘Won’t your friends be worried? Will they be looking for you?’ ‘I don’t know,’ I murmured. ‘The house we’re renting is right on the edge of town. It’s not far so I think they’ll just assume I’ll head back after the celebrations.’ The crowd had thinned out by now and we went back inside the house for another beer. There was an air of tension between us and I wondered whether I should go. Perhaps Dan had other plans and saving me from the hordes was just an impulsive gesture. ‘Thanks for. More

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