“I know that.”
She leaned out the window and kissed his cheek. He blushed and smiled.
“I think you’re the loveliest woman who’s ever kissed me.”
“I think you’re the loveliest copper I’ve ever kissed.”
He waved her through. What she’d said was true. He was the first copper she’d ever kissed. She noted his shoulder service number. He was sure to get a Christmas card with her thanks.
She crawled among the buses along Oxford Street. It felt great to be V.I.P.s. At last she arrived at Marble Arch and squeezed the bus into the stop zone that she’d used so many times, as a London driver on the 73 Service.
“If anyone wants to take a stroll back to get some photos of the Oxford Street lights you’ll find me here. Don’t worry if you can’t see me, I might have to do a circuit if they move me on.
