I briefly wondered if I ever would again. For now, I'd simply get it towed home. I'd think about what to do later.I didn't have to wonder long, because just then Danny stepped up to the car and pulled me out, crushing me with a bear hug. I felt his love and concern for me in that hug, and I tried to say something, but I suddenly couldn't speak as the dam of emotion tore loose, and it was all I could do to hold him and cry. He brushed his hand through my hair as I wept, telling me everything was okay. I remember saying "Thank you" to him and telling him "I'm sorry" over and over, although I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be sorry about.When I finally ran down, I felt like a wrung-out dishrag. At a nod from the police detective, Danny led me over to where the police had moved my car. Parked next to it was the biggest Harley Davidson motorcycle I'd ever seen. It was nothing but black and chrome, and sitting on it was Keven Braddock.When he saw us approaching, he stood up abruptly. It was later that evening as Tony stood in his bedroom looking out on to the road below as twilight fell. There were no street lights and people were hurrying past using shaded torches the little traffic that there was had tin shades over their headlights, which did little to help them find their way. Workers were hurrying home from work wanting to get home with their family before the nightly blitz started. In half an hour or so the bar would start to get busy, and he would start his nightly piano sing song.If they were lucky they would perhaps get their evening meal before perhaps having to go to the air raid shelter when the sirens sounded their nightly warning. He casually watched Tom Weeks the Caretaker/Watchman lock the gates of the Co-op Food Warehouse opposite, as he too hurried off home for his tea. Tom suffered terribly from rheumatism and would have retired were it not for the war.Tony hated the blackout curtains they made him feel claustrophobic and he and Kate often would.
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