Dimly, amidst the chorus of disembodied voices, she became aware of another sound, a low rumble of movement, something rattling along the lonely road, and then, all of a sudden, Luna was hitting her in the arm, encouraging her turn away from the introspection that consumed her, and look back along the road behind them.
“It’s the number 4!” she cried in delight. “The number 4!”
They could take the number 4 all the way home, Diana thought as she caught sight of the squat, red shape swaying in the road, rattling ahead with no interest in them.
“s**t. Bus stop!” she cried, looking around wildly.
In the distance, she saw it, adjacent to the station, worn and battered, the scrawl of faded marker pen across the plastic that covered the large advert that was its side. They could make it, she t
