Tunnels 03, Freefall

traffic on the approach to London, Will half opened an eye and surveyed the rows of stationary cars and lorries in the other lanes, and the skyline of the city in the distance. "Too many people," he mumbled drowsily, then went back to sleep.
    By mid-afternoon, the coach finally pulled up and the door opened with a pneumatic hiss.
    "Euston Station! Everyone out!" the driver shouted.
    "I'm never going to get used to this," Will muttered as they made their way to the concourse at the front of the station, where hordes of people were milling around and they could hear the constant rumble of traffic from the nearby
    Euston Road
    . Dr. Burrows didn't seem to be concerned by it in the slightest.
    "Quick -- that bus! It'll take us to Highfield!" he exclaimed, pointing. Then he looked confused. "But where are all the double-deckers?"

Part Five
Highfield, Again

24

    As they disembarked from the bus in Highfield, Dr. Burrows unexpectedly turned down the High Street rather than up it. "Just want to take a quick look at the museum, Will," he said.
    "Dad... it's not safe. I don't think we..." Will started to object, but from the determined way his father was striding along with his chin in the air, he knew he was wasting his breath.
    Reaching the museum, Dr. Burrows went up the steps and pushed his way through the door, Will trailing a couple paces behind.
    Will was just thinking the main hall looked more brightly lit than he remembered it as his father took a few steps, then stopped dead. Dr. Burrows surveyed the scene in a somewhat proprietorial manner until his gaze alighted on a far corner.
    "What's all this over here?" he exclaimed, and immediately strode off again.
    His boots squeaked on the polished parquet flooring as he drew up sharply in front of a tall glass display case. In it a mannequin sporting a Second World War infantry sapper's uniform stood in all its glory. "But what's become of my military display?" he muttered, casting around for the pair of battered showcases in which he'd arranged a disorganized jumble of tarnished buttons, regimental badges and rusty ceremonial swords.
    Will made his way to a bank of new displays behind the mannequin. "Remembering Highfield's Finest," he read out as his father joined him. Together, they leant over the sloping tops of the glass cases to study the ration and identity books, the gas masks and other wartime items, all beautifully labeled with names and explanations as to their uses.
    Sucking in his breath, Dr. Burrows turned to regard a television screen set into a brilliant white melamine console by the side of the new glass cases. "Press to activate , " he mumbled as he read the instructions on the screen and thrust a finger at it. It immediately began to play a sequence of black-and-white films, which looked like excerpts from old newsreels. The first scenes were at night time and showed firemen with hoses battling to put out blazing houses. "I remember those days so well, as though they were yesterday," began an elderly, wavering voice. "My father was one of the first in Highfield to volunteer as an Air Raid Warden."
    Will watched as scenes of the aftermath of the raid came on. In hazy sunlight men in dusty uniforms were frantically picking over rubble strewn across pavements and the front gardens of houses. The commentary continued: "The heaviest bombing came in February 1942, when there was a direct hit on the Lyons Tea Rooms in the South Parade of shops. I remember it was packed with people having their lunch when the Germans dropped a landmine. It was just awful... injured people and dead everywhere. And there was another raid that night, even worse than the first."
    Then Will watched a clip of a pair of old men just sitting on a couple of chairs in the remains of the ground floor of a house, staring blankly at the camera as they smoked. They looked exhausted, and defeated. He tried to imagine their suffering -- not only had they lost their homes and all their belongings, but very probably their wives and children had perished in the bombing. All of a sudden their plight touched Will -- he found it very poignant, and was struck by the realization that whatever he'd gone through, it couldn't be worse than what these men and many hundreds of thousands of others had faced in that war. He concentrated on the commentary again.
    "My father worked for two whole days and nights to find--"
    Dr. Burrows stopped the film with a jab at the screen.
    "I was watching that, Dad,"