I Have No Idea.
A thirteen-year-old boy rode his bike down a west London street. Not one of the fancy neighborhoods, but welcoming and safe enough. His father had died in an accident several months before. An accountant, he had provided a safe environment for his wife and sons to grow up in, if not an exciting lifestyle.
For the first time since his father’s death in a train derailment, the boy was happy. He’d just asked his first girl out. Unlike his brother, he always found it difficult to talk to girls. Today he got up enough nerve to walk right up to Betty Longenacher and stand next to her until she asked him out. That was not how he remembered it, but at the time it didn’t matter.
On top of the world, he rode through the streets. It was a warm June day, and it seemed things could n
