Oh
no I’ve missed the train again, one day I will catch it on time. I checked my
watch and it is dead on 6 o’clock in the morning. In the distance the train is
coming towards the platform. I look up; oh my goodness am not late, am early. Well,
that’s a first. I walk on to the middle carriage and there is no one to be seen
so I make my way to the last booth at the end of the carriage. I am very
pleased with myself because normally I usually have to stand up. I place my
suitcase on the opposite chair and get my newspaper and chocolate out of my bag
because, again, I forgot to eat breakfast from being in a rush. I am just about
to tuck into my chocolate when Stan, the ticket man, enters the carriage.
“Blimy did you shit the bed?” with a smug grin
on his face like Cheshire cat. “Miracles do happen”
“Now now, Stan, that’s enough of that,” as I
smile at him.
“I
can be early sometimes, here do your job and take my ticket.”
“Now
now bossy Bridget.”
All
of sudden the train did its normal jerk when it came to a standstill at the
next stop. Stan fell right on my lap.
“Get off me you big glug!”
He went all shy and bright as tomato.
Vicky
am ssssorry it was not my fault, the bloody train, you know when it stops it
does that jerk.”
“It’s
ok, Stan, I know.”
Then all of a sudden he runs off. My eyes
travel to the couple who just walk through the sliding doors. They are having
this big argument about bikes I think, no that can’t be right. Oh well, better
look at my phone.
The
train starts on its way again. I look at my clock, it says 6.15 I have five minutes
to check my messages. My phone lights up
red saying I have a missed call from Claire and two text messages. It makes me think of home; no, come on, snap
out of it, you made the right decision leaving Ireland. One message is from Claire and the other
from Mike. I decide to open Mike’s:
hey I see you left again in a rush got some
great news to tell you. I’ll tell you when you get back from France. Oh, PS,
your sister Claire trying to get you, seems pretty urgent. I know you don’t
want to call but call. Love you. PPs can’t wait, got new feller that’s all am
telling you. Have a safe trip don’t forget to bring me back something. X Mike
What are you like, you will never change. Mmm, what is so urgent with Claire,
we have not spoken for six months. I open the text:
Vicky, it’s me don’t delete this. I need to talk to you its important.
Please ring me love you Claire.
Before I can decide what to do. Stan shouts
next stop Heathrow. I look at my watch, it’s 6.20am.
I get my suitcase and walk to the sliding
doors. Brace yourself Vicky 1, 2, 3, bang, I go flying: right on my bum and my
dress rides up. Before I can maintain my dignity this dark haired man, mid-twenties,
pulls me up and asks me if I am ok. I
look at him and say, yes, completely embarrassed, and run out of the door
before the train goes. The train pulls off and this good looking guy goes
without me saying thanks or finding out his name. Well done Vicky!
copyright@emma fitzgerrald
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