She sits at the station alone. Some trains stop and pick up passengers, both the eager and the despondent.  "Tell Mary I love her!" "Travel safety!" "Next time, don't leave it so long!"   Others fly straight by,  rocking back and forth, trundling at 140kms per hour. She is alert. She watches all of them, sitting on the suitcase with slender legs crossed. Red, shiny, wet, she reapplies lipstick and glances sideways at the tall dark man behind her buying a paper.

Is that him? she wonders. He carries on and moves away. She touches the flower in her hair.



"Are you waiting for the 5.40 Miss?" asks the well meaning station master.
"Ah no, I'm fine. Please."
"Its just that I noticed you've been sitting here a while."
"Just leave me alone!"

Another man approaches her and opens his mouth but no words come out.
"Yes?" she says expectantly. This isn't going the way she thought.
"You're not Mabel!" he says and walks off.

She sits a while longer and starts to get irritated. The whole idea is ridiculous she decides. Her sister suggested it. A friend of a friend endorsed it, speaking in hypotheticals.  The woman now doesn't know what she was thinking. Ridiculous! She curses herself and her boring life. She stands up, smooths her skirt, inspects her perfect nails. She turns and picks up the suitcase she has been sitting on. It weighs next to nothing. She looks in both directions and choses an exit . As she makes her way there she feels an arm firmly grasp her shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going?" he says He spins her around and she looks at him, startled, and then smiles. "I'm not letting you go" he says. "You are the world. The sun will rise again tomorrow and we will start again." He kisses her firmly on the mouth, grabs her waist, wraps her up, bends her backwards. Kisses up and down her neck. His mouth is imploring and urgent, his hands are confident. She loses herself and submits to the man, who isn't beautiful but carries some secret magic.

He finally releases her. Onlookers are smiling. The bitter old spinster who is fastidiously knitting a scarf for her ugly nephew. She has not been properly kissed since before the war. The school boys who are chortling as they board the carriage of the 5.46. The bachelor in uniform who is secretly high fiving. The newlyweds passing by who exchange a contented smile. Everyone is watching and waiting.

"I want you to stay" he says firmly. He puts an arm around her waist, picks up the suitcase and leads her out of the station. She feels small and safe and special.

Once outside she turns to him.

"Thanks" she says, looking at him properly for the first time as she thrusts a bunch of tidy folded notes in his hand. "Is it right?"
"No problem" he says. He counts and nods his head. "Yep." He looks at her again, a little more clearly. "You um, you need anything else?"
"No. All good."
"Under different circumstances..." He smiles strangely. She hands him the suitcase and walks off down the cobbled street.