Chapter Twenty-OneGrasping Cora’s hand, Van hurried down the sidewalk toward the Tube station. Their feet crunched on the grit, and he grimaced. How did Londoners stand all the dirt and grime? His job was to go where the stories were, but that didn’t mean his heart didn’t ache for the clean, fresh outdoors of Iowa. Unfortunately, a man couldn’t build a journalistic career in midwestern fields.
The pavement was crowded with factory workers, men in suits, and British and US soldiers. Too bad he didn’t have time to sit down with the Americans and reminisce. The bomb waited. Unexploded bomb actually. A UXB as the military referred to them. Only military men and journalists ran toward a hazard.
He’d tried to convince Cora that he could cover the situation without her but had been unsuccessful
