I started the engine and drove slowly back to the centre of Cuffley. I knew of no hotels in the neighbourhood, but was confident of finding somewhere. The first place we found was full, and so was the second. We were following directions to a third when the petrol-tank finally ran dry. I coasted the car into the side and stopped.
I was relieved in a way that the decision had been made for us; I’d held out no real hopes of finding accommodation in an hotel. Isobel said nothing, but sat with her eyes closed. Her face and clothes were damp from the rain which had blown in through the screen.
I ran the heater until the water inside the mechanism had cooled to a point where there was no more benefit to be had. Isobel said she was tired.
We agreed to take it in turns to lie across one another; I said she could have the first period. She tucked her knees up and lay across from her seat with her head in my lap. I put my arms around her to keep her warm, then tried to find a comfortable position myself.
Within a few minutes Isobel had passed into a semblance of sleep. I spent the night uneasily, unable to pass into complete sleep because of my uncomfortable position.
Behind us Sally stirred from time to time; of the three of us she was probably the only one who rested fully in the night.
Lateef showed me a leaflet he had found. It was printed by the Royal Secessionist Air Force, and it stated that ten minutes’ warning, in the form of three low traverses, would always be given to civilian occupants of villages before a raid was to take place. There was a road through the New Forest. I drove along it in the twilight of the evening, knowing that we had stayed away too long. It had not been wise to do what we had done in any event, and with the present police situation it had been foolhardy.
I had a girl in the car with me. Her name was Patti. She and I had been at an hotel in Lymington and we were hurrying to get back to London before nine o’clock. She was asleep next to me, her head resting lightly on my shoulder.
She was awakened by my stopping the car at a road-block on the outskirts of Southampton. There were several men standing by the block, which was a makeshift arrangement of two old cars and an assortment of heavy building materials. Each of the men carried a weapon, though only one had a rifle. It occurred to me that for the last few miles we had not seen any traffic going in the same direction as us, and guessed that most local people would have known about the block and have found an alternative route.
As a result of the road-block we were obliged to turn round and follow a long diversion through the countryside to Winchester, and thence to the main road to London. We had been warned by the people at the hotel to expect similar obstructions at Basingstoke and Camberley, and as it turned out we were required to make lengthy detours around these also.
The road into southwest London was unobstructed by civilian defence groups, but we saw many police vehicles and spot-checks on motorists. We were fortunate in passing through without delay. I had not been out of London for several months and had had no idea that access and movement had been curtailed to this degree.
I dropped Patti near the flat she shared in Barons Court and carried on towards my home in Southgate. Again, none of the major roads was blocked by civilian resistance groups, but I was stopped by the police near King’s Cross and my possessions were searched.
It wasn’t until nearly one in the morning that I arrived home. Isobel had not waited up for me. The next morning I went to a near-by house and managed to persuade the occupier to let me have a gallon of petrol siphoned from out of his car’s tank. I paid him two pounds for it. He informed me that there was a garage less than three miles away which had been selling petrol up until the night before. He gave me directions to find it.
I returned to the car and told Isobel and Sally that with any luck we would be able to make Bristol during the day.
Isobel said nothing, though I knew she did not want to go to her parents. From my point of view it was the only solution. As it was equally obvious that we could no longer return to our house, the prospect of moving to the relatively distant town was one sufficiently familiar to reassure us.
I filled the tank with the gallon of petrol and started the engine. As we drove towards the garage as directed, we listened to a news broadcast on the radio which announced the first break in the police. About a quarter of the force had seceded in favour of the Afrims. There was to be a meeting of chief constables with both the Afrim command and Tregarth’s Home Office, and a statement would be issued from Whitehall later in the day.
We found the garage with difficulty and were allowed what the proprietor informed us was the standard quota: three gallons. With what we had, this gave us a maximum potential mileage of around one hundred and thirty miles. This should be just sufficient for us to reach Bristol, provided we were not forced to make too many detours from the shortest route.
I told Isobel and Sally, and they expressed relief. We agreed to set off as soon as we had had something to eat.
At Potters Bar we found a small café which gave us a good breakfast at normal prices. No mention was made of the Afrim situation, and the radio that was playing carried only light music. At Isobel’s request we were sold a vacuum-flask which was filled for us with hot coffee, and after we had washed in the toilets of the café we set out.
The day was not warm, but there was no rain. Driving with the windscreen missing was unpleasant, but not impossible. I decided not to listen to the radio, seeing for once some wisdom in Isobel’s attitude of not allowing the events around us to affect us. Although it was of course essential to keep abreast of the developing situation, I was won over to her passivity.
A new worry materialized in the form of a continual vibration from the engine. I had been unable to maintain regular servicing on it, and I knew that one of the valves was in need of replacement. I trusted to it lasting at least until we reached Bristol and did not mention it to the others.
As far as I could see, the worst part of the journey would be in avoiding barricaded sections of the suburbs around London. I therefore skirted the north-western edge of the city, driving first to Watford (unbarricaded), then to Rickmansworth (barricaded, but open to through traffic on the by-pass), and then across-country to Amersham, High Wycombe and south towards Henley-on-Thames. As we went farther from London we saw fewer and fewer overt signs of the trouble, and a mood of tranquillity came over us. We were even able to purchase more petrol and fill our reserve cans.
At another small café on the way into Reading we ate a lunch and made our way towards the main road to Bristol, confident of arriving there well before nightfall.
Five miles to the west of Reading the engine-vibrations increased suddenly, and the power faded. I kept the car going as long as possible, but at the first incline it stopped. I did what I could to investigate, but the fuel-and ignition-systems were not faulty, and I could only assume that the valve had finally blown.
I was on the point of discussing this with Isobel and Sally when a police-car pulled up alongside.
I worked for some months as part-time barman in a public house in the East End of London. It had become necessary to earn some extra money. I was then studying for my Finals and my grant had been spent.
It came as something of a surprise for me to learn that the East End was a series of loosely connected ghettos, containing Jews, Negroes, Chinese, Greeks, Cypriots, Italians and English. Until this work I had always assumed that this part of London was primarily white. The pub reflected this cosmopolitan aspect to some degree, although it was clear that the publican did not encourage it. Arguments in the bar often arose, and we had been instructed to remove bottles and glasses from the counters if a fracas developed. It was part of my duties as barman to assist in breaking up any fight that started.