The whine of the air raid siren sounding the "all clear" cut through the night, blotting out the hissing and crackling sound from the fires that raged a block or so from where Clegg was standing. "Inconvenient," he thought, "I wasn't quite finished." It wasn't too much of a problem though; it would be a while before folk emerged from the shelters.As if to add to his difficulties, the wall of a nearby building collapsed with a crumbling crash, spewing a jet of dust across the roadway beside him. He scowled at the rubble, brushing himself down as he did so.Freddie Clegg had found the blitz a lot less of an imposition than most of his fellow Londoners. While many of them were spending uncomfortable nights in the Underground or in makeshift shelters of their own, Clegg was hard at work. The raids were coming almost every night now. Two hundred bombers at a time or more they said. He'd watched them fly over many times - Heinkels with their soft rounded wings; Junkers, engines throbbing. She was the kind of woman he had always wanted: beautiful and intelligent. She was just a little too independent for his taste. But he knew he could fix that with a little bit of that old Tracy charm.The drive through the city was uneventful. There was still a lot of traffic for as late as it was but that was to be expected for New Years. No one even gave him a second look.He pulled up in front of her apartment and with a little effort, pulled her out. She was a bit groggy and he shouldered most of her small frame as he carried her through the lobby and to the elevators. His lies were in place if anyone should ask but he didn’t see a soul as they entered the elevator.Celia lived on the twenty-second floor. During their brief relationship, he had been to her apartment a couple of times. He took her straight to her apartment door and fumbled through her small purse to find Celia’s keys. Moments later, they were inside. He would get her ready and in bed then be back later to fully enjoy.
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