exhibiting threads of joy among their usual wares. Faded flags and paper streamers looped along the half-empty shelves, suggesting a victory party to come. Michael suddenly felt insanely tired. A dog sniffed at the base of a wall, then lay down and rolled on the pavement, rising to wag his tail as a group of children advanced from a side street with a ball. The tallest among them glanced across at the ship, and in his face Michael recognised the pinched look of hunger he’d seen throughout Europe. Someone around the corner was playing ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ on a mouth organ. A young girl, aged about nineteen, sauntered past him and down a side street towards a propped bicycle. She smiled at Michael, put the mouth organ into her pocket and lifting the bicycle away from the wall, swung onto it and pedalled away. The sun glanced off her hair as she vanished round a corner. Michael rubbed his eyes. He had a sudden memory of Janey jumping off her bicycle to greet him, flushed, bright-eyed, laughing, on the night he asked her to marry him. She had been setting races and fielding teams of school children in their sports day that afternoon. She was lit up and proud, happy to be leading her life. Michael wanted to lose himself in her vigour and her uncomplicated happiness. He walked on, his back aching, footsore in the heavy wool uniform. The day seemed endless, he didn’t remember sleeping the last night on the ship. He had lost track of time, but the sun was lower now, coasting behind rows of chimneys fanning out
9781408833735 From a Distance (844h) final pass.indd 18
08/01/2014 16:11:41