Chapter NineThe traffic across Westminster Bridge was only slightly better and then I saw the roadside sign that explained it—'Avoid All Roads In The King's Cross Area. Major Disruption'. I had missed seeing that the first time, wrapped in my thoughts of excuses. Now it was not an excuse I needed. I called Job on my personal radio. When he answered I could hear the laughter of women's voices in the background.
“What's going on?” I asked regretfully.
“Nothing really, Terry, I've just been telling the ladies a few of my jokes. Had them both in stitches. Are you going to be long, only Megan said that cottage pie will be out the oven by five-thirty? You've got thirty-five minutes. It smells divine, mate. My tummy's rumbling already!”
Something in the air quality of Dulwich had metamorphosed
