The Safest Place In London (2016) - Plot & Excerpts
He had been made lame perhaps at Dunkirk, perhaps at Tobruk. He wore a soiled bandage around his head and when he rested on a bench outside the station a woman in a smart hat and a coat with a fur collar pressed a coin into his hand. He looked tired. He looked hungry. But so did everyone. After a time, he pulled himself to his feet and limped towards the station entrance. He had no luggage, not even a gas mask. Perhaps he was meeting someone. Perhaps he had no possessions. He wore a suit that looked like someone had died in it. Joe paused in the entranceway to the station. It was the first day of February, a Tuesday morning at a little after nine o’clock, an overcast morning with the promise of rain. Pigeons roosted noisily high up in the roof struts, thin and wasted because in wartime there were less crumbs to fight over, and wary because sometimes the people far below got so hungry they ate pigeon pie for their tea. Joe lowered his gaze from the ceiling and observed the many servicemen and women crowded into the station.
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