02.00. Although I can
just about follow the articles in the newspaper my eyes are constantly flicking
towards the briefcase. Finally I give up and put the paper to one side and life
the case onto my knees. I click open the fastening and try to look casually
inside but anxiety means I cannot help but stare at the package. It is still
there as indeed I knew it would be. Even as I close the lid again I want to
open it to check again. I must relax or I will give something away
02.05. I have locked
the briefcase and placed it on the shelf above the seat opposite me. This way I
can just lift my eyes from the paper and see it to reassure myself. I have
decided to try the Sudoku. Unfortunately it is a hard one and I can feel my
mind wandering onto the challenge of the day ahead. The rhythmical sound of the
train on the track is soporific.
02.10. I cannot afford
to fall asleep so I sit upright and widen my eyes in an attempt to fight the
risk of them closing. I could do with a drink, a tea, so I begin to consider if
the train will have a buffet car. Although I doubt it very much given the time
of this service, the numbers aboard and the general quality of service I decide
to take a walk through the carriages to see.
02.15. I lift down the
briefcase and begin to navigate my way through the carriage. It takes a certain
amount of shifting my weight from leg to leg to develop the walk that avoids
bouncing my hips against the sides of the seats as the train moves. As I walk
through the carriages I am able to check out the other passengers. All men
apart from a woman with her head buried in a book. Apart from a couple glancing
up briefly as I go by them they seem to be paying no attention to me.
02.20. The buffet car
is shut as I really knew it would be but had desperately hoped wouldn’t be the
case. The result is I now want a drink more than ever. The fact I can’t get one
makes it even more desperate. I turn to walk back to my seat only to be immediately
halted by finding myself staring face to face at the woman from the next
carriage. She has the greenest and most beautiful feline eyes I have ever seen
and my already dry mouth turns arid.
02.25. “It’s not open
then,’ she purrs staring past me at the shuttered bar. “No, no, it’s shut” the
words stumble from my mouth and I feel like an awkward schoolboy. “Ah well,”
she says and turns to go back. I let her leave the carriage before I give
myself a shake and take a deep breath. I must focus on what I have to do.
02.30. I squeeze the handle of the case tightly until
my hand begins to throb and the pain begins to block out all other thoughts.
OK, I shall walk calmly through the train and back to my seat and reflect on
how the day should play out. I take out my phone to check the time and see the
battery life has dropped to 19%. How can that be, it’s just been in my pocket.
02.35. I hold the
phone and, as I walk through the carriages, open the settings and turn off as
many apps that could be draining the battery. By the time I get back to my seat
it is now functioning like the first mobiles, as a phone. I check the time,
02.39 and slump down into my seat.
02.40. “Hello again.”
The woman from the buffet car is sitting opposite me. “I hope you don’t mind
but one of the other passengers was bothering me. Don’t worry I just want to
read my book.” With that she looks down into the pages and I am left staring at
her and wondering how she knew I was sitting in this carriage. I put the case
on the seat next to me and let my hand rest on it.
02.45. Why does
silence seem so artificial when you are sitting with someone? The desire to
converse becomes overwhelming but I know I can’t engage with anyone today. I
need to remain anonymous, a cipher in the day. The fact that this spectacular woman
has spoken to me is potentially very dangerous. I take out my phone check the
internet and distract myself to remember I have turned 3G off. 17% on the phone
battery.
02.50. She glances up
at me and smiles. My mouth is even drier. I turn my head towards the window in
the hope that she will go back to reading. The train is beginning to slow as we
approach the first station. One hour of the journey gone. If I had the time I
would get off and catch the next train so that I would fade from the memory of
the woman opposite.
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