A thousand feet away from the Tower Bridge and the Tower of London, the city shifted in purpose. It moved from a tourist hub and bustling business to a quieter residential space. Thousand feet was ample space for London to invert its personality.
Here, off a The Highway was a Texaco where Levi had to stop to refuel his motorcycle. The last month and two weeks put Levi and Petra in February. It was this February when their situation improved. Instead of using bicycles, they had graduated to the use of motorcycles. They explored London Bridge and decided to turn off into the East End.
Petra, not having had to refuel continued to their destination – a small chippie by the name of Perfect Fried Chicken – a family run restaurant on the corner of Stepney Way and Head Street. She mused on her past success at memorizing London. Both Levi and she had passed their first test and graduated to the monthly test. That was in 14 days.
Petra had gained a considerable lead on Levi. She would text him once she arrived, but presumed he would not read the message. She hit Stepney Way on Jubilee Street. Slowing for pedestrians, Petra took in the scene. To her left was a community of red row houses. In front of her were to blocks of flats – an old brown one to her left and a newer, whiter one to her right. Next to her were funeral directors. Petra slowed, indicating her right turn to the approaching traffic of five cars. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw a van. She ascertained its speed too late.
The van did not slow or turn, least of all did it give way. It ploughed on at around 50. It seemed to be speeding away from a plague. The van barrelled down the middle of the road ignoring every possible law. Petra was hit and flung off her bike. Knocked out instantly, she was not aware of the flight she took.
The back of her knees hit a lamppost, splitting her and the motorbike. The bike slid into the red brick wall leaving the home owner with an odd insurance claim. Petra slid and rolled on the pavement, bruises adding to a concussion, a broken arm, two knocked-up knees and four wrecked ribs. She stopped before the wall or telephone booth on the wide street corner. A few of the bruises were bleeding.
