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To commerate the re-opening St Pancras railway station and inspired by its Paul Day statue, The Meeting Place
The Friday evening Eurostar glided into St Pancras like an ice dancer, three minutes ahead of time, having left Paris just over two hours earlier. Jocelyn felt her stomach flip and her heart jump at the sight of the white, blue and gold train. It slid into place along the platform and sighed to a halt. This, she realised, could be the most important moment of her life. The most wonderful, or the most horrible.
Either way, she would never forget what was about to happen next.
Don’t go
Wait for me
She made her way from where she had been standing beneath the Paul Day statue to watch the crowds coming up to the ticket barrier. Dozens upon dozens of people, like a ragged, growing tide, began to drag round her. The business man in his smart suit, shoulder bag and lap-top, the family group perhaps back from a holiday, the young woman with a child, the middle-aged woman steering a trolley of luggage, the couples and the singles, like a billowing cloud around her, blocking her view. And still she could not see the one face she sought. Was Dominic going to be there, amongst them?
She was distracted by a cry from her right, as two people fled into each others outstretched arms, reunited at last.
"I expect you’ll forget me," she had said.
That day, she had just been to order a new tumble dryer for her flat. On the way back from the store, the heavens opened, great fat gobs of water splattering. As she dived for the cover of a taxi, they met.
"Share?" he suggested.
The rest of the hours of the day they passed together. As the light faded, Jocelyn realised a feeling of contentment, like she had never known before. She was thinking of the many days to come when Dominic broke his news.
"I have to go away – a long trip. Europe, then the Middle East, India, China and Polynesia. It’s all to do with work, liaising with local offices."
"When?"
"Tomorrow."
"That – " she shifted her gaze from his, "… not what I wanted to hear."
"I know. I’m sorry. It’s my job. It will be the big trip for the company. Once it’s done, someone else can worry about the day-to-day details. I was quite looking forward to it. I never took a gap year from college. Now I’m not so sure I want to go."
"It’s part of your work. The thing that keeps you going," she said. Where was that from? "Where is Polynesia?" she tried to sound intellectually curious, detached.
"What is Polynesia? – That’s what I said," he told her, trying to joke. "I thought it was the ability to forget a parrot, when they first told me. Either that or being able to forget about several things at once."
"Are you likely to forget things?"
"Oh, lots of things. I forget almost everything given half a chance."
"Does that included strangers you’ve met?"
"Strangers, yes."
"So you could forget me?"
"You’re not a stranger," he said, "I feel I’ve already known you for ages."
"But you haven’t."
"Don’t misunderstand – I’m sure it will take ages more to get to know even a tiny bit about you."
"How long will you be gone?"
"About two months. Not sure exactly. Perhaps you won’t want to know me then. I mean, if I can’t wash my clothes while I’m away." He offered a remorseful smile.
"You’ll need a tumble dryer," she said.
Thoughts passed between them.
Don’t leave
Don’t forget
His postcard had a picture of a parrot – a scarlet Macaw. It said when he would be back. After that were the words, "Wish I wasn’t here."
Perhaps she had got the wrong date or time. She had washed the sweatshirt she jogged in, not realising she’d pushed the postcard into the pocket, until she found it mangled and shredded in the very same tumble dryer she’d bought that day. Somehow she had forgotten to check before she threw the shirt in the wash after her morning run. The date and time of his return had been on the card and she was sure she remembered them anyway. But what if she were wrong?
What if he didn’t want to come back and see her after all. They had barely had time to get to know each other. Time – something you always have too much or too little of.
The stragglers from the train were clearing the platform. If he had been amongst the passengers she had missed him. More probably, he just wasn’t there. He’d said he forgot things. Perhaps she was one of them. She was positive she had seen everybody who had got off the train. Even when she’d glanced away at the affectionate couple greeting. Hurt and disappointment pricked and stabbed at the back of her eyes. She turned and, slowly at first, but with gathering pace, she began to walk away.
Just as she hurried beneath the statue, her gaze fixed resolutely on the ground, someone got in her way. Before she could side-step, she had collided with the stranger. Why couldn’t the fool look where he was going? She stared up angrily into the eyes of the irritating person blocking her path.
"Hullo," said Dominic.
"Dominic!" She thought her eyes were lying to her. "Did you just come in on the train?"
"Why else would I be at the station?" he smiled.
"But I didn’t see you coming off the platform." She almost stamped her foot.
"You must have missed me."
"Missed you? Missed you? I was waiting at the barrier!"
"I did say, ‘beneath the statue.’ If you’d stayed at the barrier I might have missed you."
I remembered
I’m here now
He put his arms around her waist. She reached up to touch him on the cheek. She didn’t speak, just looked into his eyes.
"I told you I’d come back," Dominic said.
"I never doubted it," she answered in a whisper. It may have been a lie, but it didn’t matter.
She was right. She would remember this moment for the rest of her life.
Either way, she would never forget what was about to happen next.
Don’t go
Wait for me
She made her way from where she had been standing beneath the Paul Day statue to watch the crowds coming up to the ticket barrier. Dozens upon dozens of people, like a ragged, growing tide, began to drag round her. The business man in his smart suit, shoulder bag and lap-top, the family group perhaps back from a holiday, the young woman with a child, the middle-aged woman steering a trolley of luggage, the couples and the singles, like a billowing cloud around her, blocking her view. And still she could not see the one face she sought. Was Dominic going to be there, amongst them?
She was distracted by a cry from her right, as two people fled into each others outstretched arms, reunited at last.
"I expect you’ll forget me," she had said.
That day, she had just been to order a new tumble dryer for her flat. On the way back from the store, the heavens opened, great fat gobs of water splattering. As she dived for the cover of a taxi, they met.
"Share?" he suggested.
The rest of the hours of the day they passed together. As the light faded, Jocelyn realised a feeling of contentment, like she had never known before. She was thinking of the many days to come when Dominic broke his news.
"I have to go away – a long trip. Europe, then the Middle East, India, China and Polynesia. It’s all to do with work, liaising with local offices."
"When?"
"Tomorrow."
"That – " she shifted her gaze from his, "… not what I wanted to hear."
"I know. I’m sorry. It’s my job. It will be the big trip for the company. Once it’s done, someone else can worry about the day-to-day details. I was quite looking forward to it. I never took a gap year from college. Now I’m not so sure I want to go."
"It’s part of your work. The thing that keeps you going," she said. Where was that from? "Where is Polynesia?" she tried to sound intellectually curious, detached.
"What is Polynesia? – That’s what I said," he told her, trying to joke. "I thought it was the ability to forget a parrot, when they first told me. Either that or being able to forget about several things at once."
"Are you likely to forget things?"
"Oh, lots of things. I forget almost everything given half a chance."
"Does that included strangers you’ve met?"
"Strangers, yes."
"So you could forget me?"
"You’re not a stranger," he said, "I feel I’ve already known you for ages."
"But you haven’t."
"Don’t misunderstand – I’m sure it will take ages more to get to know even a tiny bit about you."
"How long will you be gone?"
"About two months. Not sure exactly. Perhaps you won’t want to know me then. I mean, if I can’t wash my clothes while I’m away." He offered a remorseful smile.
"You’ll need a tumble dryer," she said.
Thoughts passed between them.
Don’t leave
Don’t forget
His postcard had a picture of a parrot – a scarlet Macaw. It said when he would be back. After that were the words, "Wish I wasn’t here."
Perhaps she had got the wrong date or time. She had washed the sweatshirt she jogged in, not realising she’d pushed the postcard into the pocket, until she found it mangled and shredded in the very same tumble dryer she’d bought that day. Somehow she had forgotten to check before she threw the shirt in the wash after her morning run. The date and time of his return had been on the card and she was sure she remembered them anyway. But what if she were wrong?
What if he didn’t want to come back and see her after all. They had barely had time to get to know each other. Time – something you always have too much or too little of.
The stragglers from the train were clearing the platform. If he had been amongst the passengers she had missed him. More probably, he just wasn’t there. He’d said he forgot things. Perhaps she was one of them. She was positive she had seen everybody who had got off the train. Even when she’d glanced away at the affectionate couple greeting. Hurt and disappointment pricked and stabbed at the back of her eyes. She turned and, slowly at first, but with gathering pace, she began to walk away.
Just as she hurried beneath the statue, her gaze fixed resolutely on the ground, someone got in her way. Before she could side-step, she had collided with the stranger. Why couldn’t the fool look where he was going? She stared up angrily into the eyes of the irritating person blocking her path.
"Hullo," said Dominic.
"Dominic!" She thought her eyes were lying to her. "Did you just come in on the train?"
"Why else would I be at the station?" he smiled.
"But I didn’t see you coming off the platform." She almost stamped her foot.
"You must have missed me."
"Missed you? Missed you? I was waiting at the barrier!"
"I did say, ‘beneath the statue.’ If you’d stayed at the barrier I might have missed you."
I remembered
I’m here now
He put his arms around her waist. She reached up to touch him on the cheek. She didn’t speak, just looked into his eyes.
"I told you I’d come back," Dominic said.
"I never doubted it," she answered in a whisper. It may have been a lie, but it didn’t matter.
She was right. She would remember this moment for the rest of her life.
The end.
1 comment:
Well done! ... such a great story. Really loved this... Very impressed with this.
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