Frank laughed. “Ah, well, please give him my love, and your dear mother.”
“Of course.” Patience pressed the button for the doors toshut. Libby waited for Frank to move toward the stairs, but he stayed standing where he was, holding on to the nearest pole.
“This is my friend Libby,” he said to the driver, and Libby heard something like pride in his voice. “She’s been helping me with the search for my girl.”
“Oh, is that right?” Patience said, her eyes on the road as she pulled the bus out into the traffic.
“Yes. She and Dylan, my carer, have been putting posters up along the 88 route. You must have seen them?”
“Are they the yellow ones that have been popping up over the past few weeks?”
Frank nodded. “They’re the ones! We’re hoping that either my woman will see it or someone will tell her about my search.”
Patience chuckled. “Good on you. Dad will be pleased to know you’ve not given up your search.”
“Never!” Frank said. “I have to say, your parents’ marriage has always been something of an inspiration to me. To see how those two adore each other, even after everything they’ve been through. That’s true love, I tell you.”
Patience didn’t say anything, focused on the road in front of them. But in the mirror, Libby thought she could see a flash of emotion in the woman’s face.
“I tell you what, Mr.Weiss,” Patience said after a moment. “I’m not supposed to do this, but how about you give me a few of your posters and I’ll pin them up down at the bus depot? And I can put word out on our message boards too. Bus drivers love a gossip; perhaps one of them can help find your lady.”
“Would you do that?” Frank said.
“Of course. After all you did for my dad over the years, it’s the least I can do.”
“Libby, did you hear that? How wonderful!”
Libby reached into her bag and pulled out a handful of posters, handing them over. “Thank you so much.”
“I’ll get the word out on the drivers’ network,” Patience said with a nod.
The bus pulled up at the next stop, where a small queue of passengers was waiting to board.
“We’ll get out of your way, then,” Frank said. “It was lovely seeing you, my dear. Tell your old man I’ll pop in to see him soon.”
“All right, Mr.Weiss. You take care now,” Patience said as the bus doors opened and new passengers started to push on.
Libby followed Frank slowly up the stairs, where his usual seat was free.
“She seems lovely,” Libby said as she slid in next to him.
“Oh, yes, I’ve known Patience since she was a baby,” Frank said. “Her father was a bus driver too. I met him on here and we became good friends. He’s in a home now. Parkinson’s...”
Frank trailed off. Downstairs, Libby could hear Patience greeting new passengers. When she glanced at Frank, he was frowning.
“Did Dylan tell you about Sunny?” Libby said, suddenly remembering her and Dylan’s encounter on the bus yesterday.
“Who’s Sunny?”
Libby recounted the story the young man had told them. Frank listened with a growing smile.
“Of course I remember him!” he said, clapping his hands together. “He was such a charming young man. He told me all about India, which is a place I’ve never had the pleasure of visiting. Fascinating lad.”
“Well, you clearly made an impression on him too. Andhe took some posters to put up because he said he wanted to help you.”
“How marvelous,” Frank exclaimed. “Between you, Dylan, and Sunny putting up the posters and Patience spreading the word among bus drivers, we’ll find my woman in no time.”
“Frank, remember what Dylan said. She might have left London years ago or—”
