28

As soon as they landed in his deep Conor set off running. Straight off the road, and he was hopping fences. He caught himself thinking how much of a mockery Ella would make of the world down here, so like the one above. He heard her come to in the distance. Right on cue - laughter. Her voice thundered as he ran -

“You turned your deep into this?!” She cried, “You made England?!”

Embarrassment was fleeting; he loved it down here. Always had, and at least he could make his way around his deep without getting lost. He realised that the detours in Ella’s weren’t to show him anything; she just didn’t remember the way. He kept hopping fences, all doors were unlocked, so he ran through a three-bed semi, across a cul-de-sac, through another and on to a small park, a lot of green space near homes here in Conor’s deep. Good governance. Conor for Mayor, he thought. He knew that he had to get to the viaduct - sensed that was where he’d find his man. The park led onto the grounds of a school - the Raleigh - his primary school. Ella somehow made it there first. A click. He heard her on the PA as he sprinted down the halls.

“Your imagination is fucking embarrassing, Con. Seriously, does this even count?” The PA clicked off. He burst through the front doors of the school and out the gate. He was sprinting, chest heaving as he ran down the lane, refusing to look back. He saw the junction and knew there was a bus stop away to his right that would take him back to the viaduct. He heard it before he saw it, another deep breath, and he held it as he ran straight out into the road, it wasn’t slowing yet. He passed in front of it - the front dipped when the brakes finally engaged. No payment yet, he took his seat. Conor breathed a sigh of relief as the doors closed behind him, first smooth inhale as the hydraulic doors closed perfectly together.

Three stops later - sweaty and out of breath, wild-eyed but evidently amused - Ella stretched out her hand as the bus came to a stop.