“Nah,” Reggie said, “Ms. MacDonald was just a rubbish driver.” She didn’t add that Ms. MacDonald was rapture ready, that she embraced the end of all things and was expecting to live eternally in a place that when she described it sounded a bit like Scarborough. Reggie imagined Ms. MacDonald nodding serenely at the 125 express train that was charging towards her, saying, “That’ll be God’s will, then.” Or was she astonished, did she consult her watch to check if the train was on time, did she say, “Not already, surely?” One second there, the next gone. It was a funny old world.
