The moon had appeared from behind the clouds and lit up their faces. After escaping, they had run like madmen down Finchley Road, pushing their way past pedestrians and attracting much attention. By the time they reached Swiss Cottage, they felt sure they were not being chased, but who was to say that there had not been a police alert. They slowed down to a walk, but their hearts were still beating double time. As they passed St John’s Wood Tube Station, a policeman turned the corner of the road and almost bumped into them. When he had showed no other interest than to warn them to watch where they were going, they relaxed a little more. After resting on a seat in Regent’s Park, they had found a pub, congratulated themselves on their survival, drunk a skinful and then set off to walk home. A bombing raid had delayed their journey and they had found shelter in a derelict office block.
“I think the bombers have gone now, Billy.”
“Haven’t heard the all clear, have you?”
“Nah, but it’s all quiet, listen.”
“Alright. Let’s get going.” They rose from the linoleum floor of what had been the reception area for an accounting firm called Thomsons, as a large sign hanging upside down above the main doorway informed them. They made their way towards Marylebone High Street and then on to Euston Road. As they turned right and headed towards the City and East End, they suddenly became aware of aircraft engine noise. They looked up and saw a light in the distance somewhere over Oxford Street. “Looks like someone’s come a cropper.” Billy turned and kicked a large stone in front of him.
Jake had stopped and was looking back. “I don’t think it’s a fighter. It’s too big.”
The men resumed their journey, aware of increasing noise. They began to run. The roar became intense. Panic suffused the men’s faces. Moments later, the stricken flaming Heinkel bomber crashed onto Euston Road, down which it ploughed for a hundred yards or so, taking a few parked cars, a stray dog, and Jake and Billy with it.
*
The team, including the newly returned Constable Cole with his arm in a sling, had gathered in Merlin’s office. “Thank you, everyone. You alright, Cole? Good. Well, we had a rather exciting day yesterday. Sorry you and Cole missed all the fun, Peter. I feel I can now say I know what it was like to live in the Wild West. First shot at in the Arcade on Monday night, then yesterday again in Hampstead. All a bit like the Gunfight at the OK Corral.”