A bicycle horn sounded loudly as Laurie stepped off the No 2 bus on his way to work. He watched, enviously, as the young woman riding it wove in and out of traffic.
There had been a time when he could have done the same; the daily commute through busy central London to the Ministry of Food offices would have undoubtedly been faster if he could cycle. He had
; but he had found himself unable to manage (and the one attempt had so exacerbated the pain in his knee, he had not tried again).
He had rather resented his mother’s suggestion to give his bicycle to Mr Straike, but, unable to come up with an excuse why not that sounding anything but begrudging,
in the end he had bowed to the inevitable and made a present of it to his stepfather. On return from
trip, he had vowed it would be his last (and had said so, repeatedly, to Ralph, as he massaged the sore leg that night).
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