the 2.20 from Dinas . start running punctual and - where are you ? by E L Malpass . no one has ever satisfactorily explained how a single-decker Welsh bus could have got itself into orbit . shooting up over the pass a bit too carefree , and becoming airborne ? caught by a sudden gust of wind ? a combination of the two ? no one seems to know . but the fact remains that get itself into orbit it did . and a fine old fuss there was about it , too . here are the known facts . on 10th July , the bus , the 2.20 from Dinas to Llangrwl , left Dinas at two-thirty-five as usual . aboard , apart from the crew , were Mrs Megan Thomas and her five-year-old son Cadwallader ; pretty little Morfydd Owen ; Mr Stanley Hayball and Miss Ethel Yates , hikers from Birmingham ; Price the provisions ; and the Rev Edwards . yes , the bus set out from Dinas . so much is established . Ifor Huw Evans , Propr , watched it go from the windows of the Dinas motor omnibus Co . very interested , Ifor was . for there was his garage hand , Dai Pugh , taking a tearful farewell of Morfydd Owen . Morfydd , who had until recently been Ifor &apos;s typist , but was now returning to her home town as a fully-fledged schoolteacher . but I &apos;m only going fifteen miles away , Morfydd was saying . not the end of the world , is it ? for me it is , Dai said wretchedly , wiping his hands on his overalls preparatory to a last embrace . you will not be remembering a mere garage hand when you are lording it over the mixed infants of Llangrwl . silly boy , said Morfydd . though she could not help wondering whether , now she had qualified as a schoolteacher , poor little Dai was quite the man for her . a nice boy of course . but perhaps in the new world she was entering there might be boys equally nice , and with far more to offer . the conductor rang his bell . good-bye , Dai , said Morfydd , smiling from the bottom step . good-bye , Morfydd . he sought to enfold her in his arms . but he was too late . she was already up the bus steps , and the bus was away . and Morfydd Owen waving , unkissed , from the window . and Dai , on the pavement , knowing in his heart that Morfydd was leaving him as surely as she was leaving Dinas . so the bus set out for Llangrwl . but it never reached there ! somewhere , on those fifteen miles of mountain roads , it disappeared from the earthly scene . the first intimation that all was not well came when a Mr Isaiah Roberts , landlord of the traveller &apos;s joy , rang up the Dinas motor omnibus Co to ask what had happened to their damn bus . left here all right , said Ifor . two-thirty-five , on the dot . it &apos;s supposed to leave at two-twenty . who says so ? your timetable . do n&apos;t want to take too much notice of those old timetables , Ifor said , reasonably . start running punctual and where are you ? people get left behind , is n&apos;t it ? very exasperating for one and all . exasperated is what Mr Roberts sounded . but it &apos;s over an hour late , now . and me due in Llangrwl ten minutes ago for a meeting of the licensed victualler &apos;s association . shaken , Ifor Evans was . but not showing it , mind . must n&apos;t expect too much on these Welsh roads , must we now ? he said , very conciliatory . not on the M1 , are we ? and what are you going to do about it ? tendentious , Mr Roberts sounded . what do you want me to do ? send out a sheriff &apos;s posse , is it ? no sense of humour , that Isaiah . he banged down the receiver . very uncivil . dropped the mask , now , Ifor did . Dai Pugh , he bellowed . leap on your bicycle and scour the countryside between here and the traveller &apos;s joy . the two-twenty to Llangrwl has failed to complete her mission . paled , did Dai . for the two-twenty carried , for him , a cargo more precious than jewels . though Mofydd Owen was , as he feared , departed out of his life , he still loved her dearly . already , even as with trembling fingers he fastened his trouser clips , he was seeing her lying in some dreadful ravine , or beset by robbers , or being whisked off to emergency ward 10 . but even his imagination , luckily for him , did not visualise the awful truth - that Morfyyd Owen was already qualifying for the title of first woman to enter space . where are we going , Mam ? inquired little Cadwallader when his child mind grasped the fact that the green earth was falling away at a rate of knots . where indeed ? Megan Thomas spoke sharply to the conductor , demanding an explanation . but nonplussed , the conductor was . a good man , mind ; knew his job . but out of depth in this particular instance . fingered his ticket-punch nervously . peered out of the window . went and consulted the driver . where are we going ? he echoed Cadwallader . damned if I know , boy , said the driver . but something very untoward has happened , if you ask me . immersed in the Dinas advertiser , was the Rev Edwards . now he put down his paper , folded it , and glanced idly out of the window . looked again , eyes starting from his head . God bless my immortal soul , he cried . never mind your immortal soul , said Megan Thomas tartly . here we are traversing the heavens at the very moment when we should be running into Llangrwl bus station . and no one doing the first thing about it . stung , the conductor was . what you expect me to do ? he inquired , bitter . radio flying control at London Airport , is it ? mutual recriminations will get us nowhere , boomed the Rev Edwards . it &apos;s all very well , commented Mr Hayball from the back seat . but Eth and me wanted to be at the youth hostel before dark . Morfydd Owen was silent . but she looked down at the fast-disappearing earth , and it seemed to her that she would never see her Dai again . and though half an hour ago she had regarded this possibility with fortitude , it now filled her with dismay . quietly she began to weep &amp;hellip; . Dai , meanwhile , was pedalling furiously on the road . not a sign of the bus . he passed the traveller &apos;s joy . at last he caught up Mr Roberts , walking very dogged towards Llangrwl . afternoon , Mr Roberts , he called , polite , as he shot past . his spirits were rising . he had seen no sign of an accident . therefore Mr Roberts must have been mistaken . he would find the bus safe and sound in Llangrwl , and his dear Morfydd quietly having tea in her own home . but disappointment awaited him . a restive queue of people in the bus station , waiting to be transported to Dinas . and when he went to Morfydd &apos;s house , all he found was Morfydd &apos;s mam , working herself up proper &amp;hellip; . getting dark , now . the conductor switched on the lights . the beleaguered passengers peered out of the windows . little to be seen , only a few lone stars , and the distant earth brooding in her shroud of mist . Megan Thomas sat tight-lipped , nursing the sleeping Cadwallader . driver and conductor peered ahead into nothingness . on the back seat Stan Hayball embraced his Eth . Morfydd thought of Dai . the Rev Edwards , standing at the front , looked at his forlorn flock . what about a verse or two of Cwm Rhondda ? he suggested hopefully . they looked at him , sullen . his heart sank . if the Welsh found the situation too desperate for singing , then the situation , he realised , must be desperate indeed . but suddenly they were roused from their lethargy . something was approaching , faster , faster , a tearing hurrying blur that was past and gone in a moment , followed by a great rush of sound . they waved frantically . but the jet aircraft was already miles away , swinging down to the darkening earth . it passed me at fifty thousand feet , sir . it was climbing steadily . group Captain Llewelyn Jones , Officer commanding R.A.F station , Dinas , looked keenly at the flying Officer who had burst so unceremoniously into his office . and what did it look like , Broughtons ? some sort of rocket ? flying Officer Broughtons shuffled his feet . well , actually , sir , it looked like - like a bus . a single-decker , he elaborated . daggers , the group Captain looked . Broughtons , he said silkily . did n&apos;t they teach you at Cranwell that buses are earth-bound creatures ? aeroplanes fly , Broughtons . buses crawl . very pale , Broughtons was . but determined . it was a bus , sir . they &apos;d got the lights on . there were people inside . waving . like gimlets , the station Commander &apos;s eyes . did you see the indicator board ? yes , sir . and what did it say ? mystery tour ? oh , very caustic , that group Captain . but Broughtons stood his ground . no , sir . it said Llangrwl . Llewelyn Jones sat back in his chair . I see . so you met a bus at fifty thousand feet . all lit up . full of people waving as you went past . suddenly he crouched forward . Broughtons , if I thought there were anything in Queen &apos;s regulations to cover this , I &apos;d have you court-martialled . but I know there is n&apos;t , he ended sadly . I tried to read the registration number , sir . but it was getting dark . he waited . but his commanding officer appeared to have forgotten him . he saluted , and left the presence , very crestfallen &amp;hellip; . time passed . the bus climbed , and went quietly into orbit . time passed . the Rev Edwards &apos; pulpit remained empty . and so did the arms of Dai Pugh . how could they be otherwise , when his beloved was circling the poles at three-and-a-quarter-hour intervals , regular as clockwork ? time passed . everyone said , pity about Megan Thomas , is n&apos;t it , as though they did n&apos;t really think it was a pity at all ; as , indeed , they did n&apos;t . local bus disappears announced the Dinas advertiser . but the London papers ignored the whole affair . Ifor Evans reported his loss to the police . but they only tut-tutted . lost a bus , is it . very careless . that was their attitude . now if there &apos;d been a good old accident , they could have measured up the road and taken an interest . but losing a bus ! people were always losing things . you &apos;d be surprised , they said . so it seemed , for a time , that the whole affair would be written off as one of those unexplained mysteries , like the Marie Celeste . then things began to happen &amp;hellip; . but what about the voyagers ? you will be asking . well , the Rev Edwards had taken command . our position , he said , is somewhat analogous to that of a castaway on a desert island . now what does such a person do ? he signals his position by lighting bonfires or hoisting a flag on a palm tree . and he tries to ensure a supply of food . can n&apos;t go lighting bonfires on this bus , the conductor said firmly . contrary to the company &apos;s regulations . of course not , agreed the minister . no , we have another way of signalling our position . the driver must sound his horn continuously . gave him a look , the driver did . where you think we are ? he asked rudely . Dinas High Street ? do as I say , driver . very stern , the reverend gentleman was . so the driver peep-peeped as though he were edging his way through a herd of cows , instead of hurtling through empty space . thank you , the Rev Edwards said courteously . secondly , we must pool and ration our supplies of food , if any . he looked at Price the provisions , who was nursing a great basket . now , who has any food ? he asked hopefully . stared back did Price the provisions , unwinking . Mr Price , I think you may be able to help us here , said the Rev Edwards . Price shook his head . intended for Plas Newydd , this lot is . paid for , too . he folded his arms protectively over the basket . mutinous dog , thought the Rev Edwards , who had n&apos;t enjoyed himself so much since reading treasure Island . what have you got in that basket , Price ? he roared . quelled , Mr Price pulled out a grocery list , pushed his glasses up on his nose , and began to read . six loaves , four pounds butter , two pounds marge , one tin pineapple , one York ham . then we are saved , cried the Rev Edwards . shyly , Morfydd Owen produced a block of chocolate . 