Witek strained to see who was doing the afternoon shift handing leaflets to the tourists. He recognized Ben and yes, there she was, her blonde hair shining in the sunlight: Emma.
Witek liked Emma. He liked her so much he could not bring himself to shorten her name to Emm like everyone else did. Of course he had no chance. Emma was nice and polite with him but that’s all it was. She was on her gap year and would go travelling to Asia and Australia soon, something he could never do. Afterwards she would go to university. And he would still be driving a bus.
When at last Witek swung the Routemaster into the reserved bay by the harbour Emma was talking to Ben and neither of them even turned their heads to see which driver was pulling in. Dave, who would relieve him and drive the next shift, was slouching by the railings. He gave a slow wave and carried on smoking.
Witek announced the end of the tour over the microphone and added a reminder. ‘Everyone please be sure to take belongings with you.’ He opened the doors and waited for the three single passengers to alight. Each one said thank you as they left, so polite. The last thing he had to do was check that the vehicle was reasonably clean and pick up any rubbish and anything accidentally left behind. He checked first downstairs then the upper deck, collecting a few chocolate wrappers and a plastic sandwich carton. Right on the last seat lay a small pink lady’s umbrella. He picked it up. It looked cheap. Nobody would call for it at the office, they’d simply go out and buy a new one. But it was company policy to keep all found items for a couple of weeks before letting the staff take them home if they wanted to.
Dave was downstairs leaning in the open door, lighting a last cigarette before the start of his shift. Witek checked his watch. Dave’s shift started in one minute but he would hang around for another five in plain view of the office, something he himself wouldn’t dare to do.
‘What you got, pink brollie? They never leave anything useful like a carton of fags or a hundred quid. What’s traffic like?’
‘Is crap. Always is by now.’ Witek smiled over Dave’s shoulder at Emma who was looking in his direction without registering him.
‘Yeah, I don’t know why I keep signing up for the afternoon shifts, they’re so much worse than the morning ones. I just can’t hack the early start, know what I mean? Not that I couldn’t drive this heap in my sleep. Watch this.’ After one last drag from his cigarette he flicked the butt at a council rubbish bin and missed.
Witek’s voice was heavy with the tragedy of it. ‘Every day you miss, Dave. Never get better. Always miss rubbish bin.’
‘Tomorrow, Witek, my son. Now excuse me while I drive this rubbish bin.’
Emma had moved and was busy working on a tourist couple who were already holding a leaflet each. She was standing on the wrong side of the parking bay for him to walk past casually, perhaps exchange a few words, ask how she was. The office, where he had to sign out, lay in the opposite direction. Now she moved even further away. Witek sighed. He’d sign out and somehow contrive to walk past her afterwards. It would mean taking quite a detour around the roundabout since home was in the opposite direction but it would be worth it. Witek smiled to himself as he walked quickly towards the office. Emma was very pretty even though she was English. Polish girls were famously pretty, much prettier than the English. But Emma was very beautiful in a very English way. Hard to explain. Different pretty.
Sally, the office girl who almost single-handedly did all the admin jobs for the company, comically waggled her head while chewing down the cheese sandwich she had just dispatched. This one was not pretty. Sal was nice, though definitely not pretty. But she was always so cheerful, so perhaps she didn’t mind.
‘Hello, Witty, another day done? S’all right for some. Driving round in circles, calling it work, then knocking off early. I’ve got another four hours to go.’ She handed him the relevant clipboard holding the form for the drivers to tick and sign. Witek gave her the umbrella in exchange. ‘Oh, cute, can I have it if no one comes for it?’
‘Is not my colour, Sal. I don’t think is your colour too. You can have it, of course.’
Sally made a note of the date then bent down to the cupboard where left items lingered among till rolls and boxes of rubber bands. As she found room for the umbrella her eyes fell on a plain white carrier. ‘Oh yeah, the egg, Witty, the egg! That’s one of yours and it’s been here more than two weeks now.’ She slipped it from the carrier and placed it on the counter between them. The heavy papier mache Easter egg rocked gently between them. Its varnished shell was brightly decorated with Easter bunny motifs and a paper banderole around its waist promised fine dark, milk and white chocolate treats inside.
‘Nobody came for it? Someone somewhere is sad now.’ He gripped the shiny ovoid with one long-fingered hand. ‘Can I take the carrier too?’
Disappointment spread over Sally’s face. ‘Oh, Witty … You’re not taking it home to snaffle by yourself, are you? I thought we could share …’ She tilted her head and fluttered her eyelids in a parody of silent-movie seduction.
Witek hesitated with one hand resting on the egg, the other stretched out towards the carrier bag. He had thought of presenting the egg to Emma. His eyes wandered towards the window. He could see the quayside but no sign of her. Happy Easter, Emma … But then she might know that he had found the chocolates on the bus and not bought them for her. She might think it was a cheap gesture. And if he took it away Sally would think he was mean and greedy. Everything to do with girls was complicated. You always found you wanted to please them and it broke your heart to disappoint them. ‘I remember now, I don’t really like chocolate. You will eat them, Sal.’
‘Are you sure? You don’t want any of it? They’re expensive chocolates …’
‘Total sure. You will enjoy them more. I go home now.’ On a sudden impulse he gave the egg a vicious twist, leaving it spinning on the counter in front of a mesmerized Sally as he walked out of the office.
He stood on the pavement, squinted towards the bus stop and tried to make out Emma among the people on the quay. The force of the explosion made him stagger against an old lady. With a cry of dismay she fell to the ground beside him. Witek thought he heard the crack as her hip bone shattered.
They walked to the locus, McLusky had insisted on it. Austin was glad he had as the traffic turned out to be particularly bad. They were easily keeping pace with the cars and by the time they got within sight of St Augustine’s Parade traffic was stationary everywhere. As they approached the Citytours office it didn’t take them long to discover why. The building that housed Citytours had been evacuated, along with the buildings to either side. The stretch of road in front of them was closed to passing traffic. The tarmac beyond the police tape was crowded with police cars and Forensics vehicles.
Something about the way the police tape hung limply across the road threatened to drain McLusky of his goodwill to mankind. He grabbed the first uniformed officer he saw. ‘What’s with the bloody roadblock?’
‘Standard procedure, inspector, with a bomb threat.’
‘I thought the bomb had gone off.’
‘It has. There could be secondary devices, though. Couldn’t there?’ The constable looked unsure now.
‘What kind of bomb was it?’
‘A small device. Hidden in an Easter egg, is what I heard.’
‘Any Easter eggs in the road?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘What about the victim?’
‘Two victims, sir. An old lady got knocked off her feet, suspected pelvic fracture, the ambulance has just left. The other was an office worker, she was closest to the blast. Slight bruise and a nasty shock, otherwise she’s fine, apparently.’
‘That’s the first good news I’ve had since this thing started.’ He saw that Forensics were already at work. ‘Where is the office worker now? Not still inside, I take it?’