As Chrissie Donaldson stared out of the bus window she thought she could see diamonds in the sky. The glass fragments showered the rooftops. A column of smoke drifted their way. She’d clung onto the shiny chrome rail in front of her as the double-decker swayed. When she removed her headphones Chrissie heard the wailing sirens. Police cars, fire engines and ambulances were heading towards them.
“What’s going on?” she asked one of the passengers.
“Didn’t you hear the bang? Must be an explosion.”
She could see from the shock and disbelief on their faces that something awful had happened. Stunned, she got out her mobile and sent a text to her boyfriend.
“I don’t know what’s cracking off. Just seen police. Smoke in house. Kings X area. Can you check.”
Mark would know what was going on. He was a photographer at one of the local newspapers. She didn’t want to arrive on her first day at ‘the Daily’ unaware of a potentially good story. Traineeships like hers were hard to come by in the newspaper industry and she didn’t want to mess this up now. As she arrived at Oxford Street, she felt the vibrations of her mobile through her leather coat.
“Hi there, anything?” she said.
“Yup, it’s an explosion at a house, but it could be a gas blast. Several people have been injured.”
Chrissie thanked Mark. She got off the bus and checked her watch, then strode down Oxford Street to find her connection to Canary Wharf. She’d been using the buses since the tube explosions the previous summer. The bombs had made her nervous in using the underground.”
Copyright © 2008