LIBBY AND NASIMA EXCHANGED a number of emails over the next few days and a plan was put in place for a meeting between Frank and Mrs Stokes the following Tuesday at Oxford Circus.
Frank had asked Libby to accompany him, which she was delighted about. She’d spent so much of the last six weeks thinking about this incredible-sounding woman, she was almost as excited as Frank about potentially getting to meet her. Libby hadn’t dared ask if Dylan was coming too, but on Sunday, Frank had texted to say that Dylan wasn’t going to join them. Libby didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
Seeing as today was the first time Libby had seen Frank since their failed trip to the National Gallery, she spent ages trying to work out what to wear. She knew she couldn’t hide her pregnancy from him forever, but today didn’t feel like the right time. Frank had enough on his mind without her suddenly announcing she was four months pregnant. In the end she’d chosen a loose-fitting sundress that hid her small bump, and she put on a denim jacket over the top for good measure.
As she approached the bus stop near Frank’s house, Libby spotted him straight away. His usual faded velvet jacket had been replaced by a sky-blue linen suit, which must have once fitted perfectly, but now hung off his stooped frame. He’d clearly tried to style his chaotic white hair specially for the occasion, although his attempts at a quiff was rather flat and a bit skew-whiff. On his feet were a pair of shoes which Libby realised, as she got closer, were blue suede. The whole ensemble was quite remarkable. Libby was about to call out hello when she saw someone step out from inside the bus shelter and her stomach flipped.
Dylan glanced up and for a moment their eyes met, but his face remained expressionless and she quickly looked away.
‘Libby!’ Frank threw his arms wide and, as he pulled her into an embrace, she tried not to choke at the overpowering smell of aftershave. ‘Isn’t this exciting? And I’m so glad you’re here to witness my reunion.’
‘I’m very happy to be here, Frank.’
‘Dylan was much more reluctant . . . I had to drag him along, kicking and screaming.’
‘I don’t want to overwhelm this woman,’ Dylan mumbled, but Libby could tell that wasn’t the truth. He hadn’t wanted to come because Libby had ignored him and then been so rude on the phone. For a brief second she remembered the last time she’d seen Dylan, the electricity she’d felt and his invitation to take her to the art class, but she quickly pushed the memory away. Everything had changed since then.
‘This whole thing today is thanks to yours and Libby’s hard work, so it’s only right you’re here,’ Frank was saying to Dylan. ‘Although for the actual meeting itself, I may ask for a little privacy.’ He gave Libby a wink.
‘Your suit is amazing, Frank.’
‘Thank you. I thought it might have gone to the charity shop years ago, but Dylan managed to dig it out for me. You don’t think I look silly?’
‘Are you kidding me? You look very handsome.’
‘Well, I looked a lot better last time she saw me. But I wanted to make an effort for her, after all this time.’
An 88 drew up to the bus stop and Frank stepped on board and began his usual animated chat with the bus driver. As Libby waited behind him she was conscious of Dylan standing nearby, so pulled her jacket round her in the hope that might cover any signs of the bump. When Frank finished his chat, the three of them made their way upstairs, Dylan supporting Frank, who was looking a little unsteady on his feet. As it was the first stop on the line, the bus was empty and Frank took his seat on the left side of the front row. Libby sat next to him and Dylan across the aisle.
‘So, have you thought what you’re going to say to her?’ Libby asked, as the bus pulled off.
‘I’ve thought of little else since you called me about the email,’ Frank said. ‘I’ve spent sixty years waiting for this day, but now it’s here, my mind is blank.’
‘Are you sure you still want to meet her on here? It would be easier in a café, that way you can have a cup of tea and it might feel more relaxed.’
Frank shook his head. ‘Cafés are too noisy. Besides, the last time we saw each other, she was getting off the bus at Oxford Circus. It seems only fitting that today we should be reunited in the same spot.’
The bus wound its way south through Kentish Town and Camden, and the whole while Frank chatted non-stop. Libby could tell how anxious he was and she asked questions and tried to be as reassuring as possible. Dylan sat across the aisle from them, staring the other way like a moody teenager.
‘What has got into you today, Dylan?’ Frank asked, as they reached Euston Road. ‘Have you had another fight with your dad?’
‘Nah, I’m fine,’ Dylan said. ‘Look, Boss, I know this is all very exciting, but can you prepare yourself for—’
‘I know what you’re going to say and I don’t want to hear it,’ Frank interrupted.
‘But—’
‘No, Dylan. I understand it’s your job to care for my physical needs, but my emotional needs are different. So, for once, can you please stop fussing and let me enjoy my moment?’
Dylan looked as though he was about to say something but stopped himself.
They rode on in silence, each of them looking out of the bus window. This was the first time Libby had ridden the 88 into town since that fateful day when she and Frank had gone to Trafalgar Square. Now, she saw that all the yellow posters had gone, either taken down or washed away by the recent rainstorms, removing all evidence of hers and Dylan’s endeavours. Libby glanced across at Dylan, but he was staring forwards and wouldn’t catch her eye. Blinking away her disappointment, she turned back to look out the window. As she did, she noticed a sole yellow poster, attached to a lamp post. They must have taped that one really well for it to have survived this long. But as the bus pulled forwards, Libby saw another one, and then a third, all of them in pristine condition. She sat up in her seat, confused. And then—
‘Sunny!’ Libby shouted so loudly that Frank jerked next to her. She leant across him and banged on the window, trying to get the attention of a man standing at the bus stop, his back to them as he secured a poster to the shelter.
‘Is that him?’ Frank said. ‘Sunny!’ And he too banged on the glass.
Sunny turned around and looked up then, his face splitting into a grin when he saw Libby and Frank. He disappeared from view and a moment later Libby heard the sound of footsteps running up the stairs.
‘Libby! Frank! Oh, and Dylan too!’ Sunny said, as he reached them. ‘How fortunate to see you again.’
‘Sunny, what on earth are you doing?’ Libby said, laughing as the young man slid into a seat behind them.
‘Well, to tell you the truth, I have been putting up some more of these posters on my lunch breaks. I know you did not ask me to, Libby, but I photocopied some more at work. Are you angry?’
‘Of course we’re not angry,’ Frank said, reaching out and patting Sunny’s arm. ‘It’s so good to see you again, my dear boy. And you look so much jollier than when I last saw you.’
‘Oh yes, life is much better now, thank you,’ Sunny said. ‘I am so happy to see you too, Frank. When Libby and Dylan told me about your search I was overjoyed. I have never forgotten your story about the woman on the bus.’
‘Well, you’ll never guess who we’re off to meet now?’ Frank said.
‘What?’ Sunny’s eyes went wide. ‘No!’
‘Yes, we found her!’ Frank laughed at the expression on Sunny’s face. ‘Her friend saw a poster and told her. Perhaps it was one of the posters you put up, Sunny?’
‘Oh, I am so pleased for you, Frank,’ Sunny said, and Libby could see the genuine delight in his face. ‘You deserve this happy ending, you really do. Where are you meeting her?’
‘At the Oxford Circus bus stop,’ Frank said.
‘Speaking of which,’ Libby said, as the bus curved around the edge of All Saints Church and on to Regent Street. She pulled out her phone. ‘I need to text Mrs Stokes and let her know we’re arriving.’
Next to her, she heard Frank inhale sharply.
‘This is really about to happen, isn’t it?’
‘How are you feeling, Frank?’ Sunny said.
‘Excited – and terrified. I’ve spent so long waiting for this moment, I can’t believe it’s really here.’
The bus had stopped at traffic lights. Up ahead, they could see the bus stop on the left-hand side. Libby’s eyes scanned the passengers waiting to board. There was one older lady, who was short with silvery white hair, leaning on a walking stick for support. Her eyes were fixed on the bus as it approached.
‘Do you think that is her?’ Sunny said.
‘It must be.’ Libby turned to Frank, who was suddenly looking very pale. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes. I—’ His voice cracked and he faltered. ‘What if I get confused, Libby? What if I say the wrong thing or have one of my funny turns?’
‘I’m sure you won’t. And if anything does happen, Dylan and I are here.’
‘But what if she’s angry with me? I did stand her up all those years ago, after all.’
Libby couldn’t help smiling. ‘If it is her, do you really think she’s come all this way today to tell you off?’
‘N-no, I suppose not.’
‘She’s probably feeling nervous too.’
‘I’m not sure about that. The girl I met sixty years ago wasn’t scared of anything.’
The traffic lights turned green and the bus pushed forwards.
‘Do you think I should go downstairs to greet her?’ Frank said.
‘No, you stay up here,’ Dylan said, the first time he’d spoken in ages. ‘I can go downstairs and then help her up if she needs it.’
‘Thank you,’ Frank said, and Libby could tell he was relieved not to have to tackle the stairs again.
‘I have to go, I have to get back to work,’ Sunny said. ‘Good luck, Frank. I will be holding my breath for you.’
‘Thank you, Sunny.’
‘I’ll go down too, so you can meet her on your own,’ Libby said. She gave his hand a squeeze. ‘Good luck, Frank. We’re downstairs if you need us.’
Frank nodded but he seemed to have lost his words. Libby gave him an encouraging smile then turned towards the aisle to stand up. As she did, Dylan was also standing up in his seat, and for a moment their faces were inches from each other.
‘Eh . . . you first,’ Dylan said, looking away.
They reached the lower deck and said goodbye to Sunny as the bus pulled up at the stop and the doors opened. Libby waited by the bottom of the steps, watching as passengers boarded. The woman was the last to get on, looking around at the other passengers before beginning to make her way down the aisle towards the stairs.
‘Mrs Stokes?’ Libby said.
She looked up and Libby could immediately tell how nervous she was too. She was wearing too much make-up, the lipstick slightly smudged in the creases around her mouth.
‘You Libby?’
‘Yes, hi. It’s lovely to meet you.’
‘Is Frank here?’
‘He’s upstairs.’
‘Would you like me to help you up?’ Dylan said.
Libby saw the woman take in Dylan, but she didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘No thanks, dear, I’ll be fine.’
‘OK. We’ll be down here if you need anything,’ Libby said.
The woman nodded and turned towards the stairs, taking a deep breath before she started to climb. Libby watched her until she reached the top and disappeared out of view. Then she took a deep breath herself and turned to face Dylan.