Chapter Twenty-Three: 16th April 1964

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Tuffnel Park was further north than Della had ever ventured in London

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Tuffnel Park was further north than Della had ever ventured in London. She had to use the A-Z map she bought when she first moved to London to pinpoint exactly where it was and then pour over the bus and train timetables to try and work out how to get there. It'd be an hour by tube. Longer by bus. It was a strange place for him to suggest to meet, although perhaps he worked or lived near there. Della didn't know. The only address she'd ever had to contact him was via his business manager's office in the West End.

She spent two hours picking out her clothes, trying on almost everything in her wardrobe from the more staid, formal wear she wore for work occasionally through to the latest thing she'd picked up on Oxford Street. Finally she settled on a black and white Prince of Wales check pinafore dress with bright red large buttons, worn over a black roll neck jumper and knitted burgundy tights. Sensible shoes, she didn't know how far she might have to walk. She did her makeup, then washed it off and did it again, and tried to tease her hair into a style which said smart and professional but also cute and modern. She'd had it cut a week earlier in preparation and it was a little on the short side.

At three o'clock she put her long, black winter coat on and put her satchel bag over her shoulder. It was a getting too warm for something as heavy as this coat, but it was the smartest one she had. Nervous butterflies fluttered in her stomach, like she was going to a job interview or on a first date. Maybe this lay somewhere in between the two.

Della stepped into the communal hall of the flats and locked the door behind her. As soon as she'd turned the key, the door to the neighbouring flat opened.

'Oh, hi, Della,' said her neighbour, with more than a little disappointment tainting his voice. 'Are you going out?'

'Yes, why?' she replied. 'Did you want something, Danny?'

Della's block of flats was tall but narrow. There were only two flats per floor, connected by the pale blue linoleum lined staircase. Della lived on the second floor, with Danny the student in the flat next door. Chelsea wasn't a typical place for a student to live. It was expensive, and although this converted Victorian house was tucked away on a narrow side street and the front was very close to the tall brick wall that ran the length of the private gardens opposite, Della wouldn't have been able to afford it without financial assistance from NEMS. Della assumed Danny's father must be a wealthy man, or else Danny had enough incriminating information on the building's landlord to get himself a rent reduction.

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