On the day:
09/11/2012
On the way:
There are no grounds for suspicion when he boards, the open-faced young man in the white sweatshirt, navy quilted bodywarmer and faded blue jeans. Nor when he disappears up the stairs to the upper deck, nor even when he comes down again almost immediately - although it can't be that all the seats up there are taken.
But when he proceeds quickly up the aisle to the back of the bus, takes a cursory look at the mostly empty row of back seats, settling his eyes for an extra instant on the left corner, then hurries back upstairs. What was that about? What is he looking for?
Jupiter Jones might have an idea, Sherlock Holmes a better one. Could it be a drug drop? A sign from an extremist cell? Intelligence from an undercover agency?
It's only later that the lady in the opposite corner stands up and leaves, that the folded up piece of paper she was sitting on becomes evident.
I scan the faces of my fellow passengers. I see mainly backs but for the sandy blonde woman with the John Byrne facial structure who is staring distractedly out through the window to her right and the bloated ebony man with the pockmarked cheeks and the small eyes who has done nothing since dropping onto his seat and hauling off his beanie but but stare vacantly forward.
No, no one's looking. This may be my only chance.
I stretch swiftly across the neighbouring seat and slide the paper back into the back pocket of my trousers. Now it's safely in my possession, there's no sense in taking chances; it'll stay there until I get a moment to look at it in private...
On the pod:
Back To California - The Wallflowers
On the front page:
New archbishop to pour oil on troubled waters (The Times)
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