The Woman Who Looked As If She Might Break by Gill James, latte

Liverpool Street Station looked familiar. It seemed years since she'd been here yet it was only a few months. It was definitely odd being in London again. Alicia and Tom had been living in the countryside since before Bobbie was born. She’d forgotten the greyness and the lack of colour. She could smell the city now. She could even taste it. This wasn't where she wanted to be.

People were beginning to get up out of their seats. She would wait until they'd all got out. Bobbie's fold-up pushchair and two bags of her clothes were on the rack above. The rucksack containing a couple of bottles and nappy changes were still on Alicia's lap. She didn't want to hold people up while they got off.

The train was late getting into the station. She could already see a crowd waiting on the platform.

How had it come to this? It had been Tom's suggestion that she and Bobbie should go back to her mother's.

"This just isn't working out," he said. "I'm going to have to get a normal job and then we'd better look for somewhere to rent. I think we'd better sell-up."

She'd left him that morning in the ramshackle cottage he'd inherited from his uncle. The field where they'd tried to grow enough vegetables to be self-sufficient was flooded. Bobbie had a bad cough. There was nothing left to eat.

So here she was. Off to her mother's cramped little terraced house in Wandsworth. Where was Bobbie going to be able to play there?

At least they would be warm. It didn't take much to heat her mother's home. She had thought of meeting up with some of her old friends but then she dismissed that idea; it would mean having to admit the experiment had failed.     

Everyone else was now queueing by the door. She pushed Bobbie into the aisle.  "Stand there like a good girl," she said, "while I get our things down."

Bobbie stood there chewing her thumb and frowning. It must have been quite overwhelming for her. She was just not used to the noise of the city.

Alicia hefted the rucksack on to her back, tucked the pushchair under her arm and grabbed the two bags with one hand, gently pushing Bobbie with the other.

The door behind them swished open.

Bobbie screamed and ran towards the door that opened on to the platform. 

"Wait for Mummy," Alicia cried.

Bobbie wasn't listening. She was about to jump out of the train. "Stop!" shouted Alicia, dropping the two bags.

Bobbie didn't stop.

Alicia wanted to scream but she couldn't. She rushed towards Bobbie and tried to grab her from behind. It was too late; Bobbie was going to go down between the train and the platform.

"Hey, steady on there." A woman about the same age as Alicia dropped what look like a full cup of coffee and a lap-top and caught Bobbie.

Bobbie started howling.

"Oh, thank you so much," said Alicia. "I'm so sorry about your coffee."

"No problem," said the young woman, picking up her lap-top case and getting on to the train.

Something about the woman haunted Alicia. She was so thin and pale. She had just a fine covering of hair on her head, a little bit like Bobbie's had been just after she was born. She looked as if she was about to break. Yet she'd managed to catch Bobbie and hold her firmly. 

By now quite a crowd had gathered. Bobbie stopped howling and started whimpering. As Alicia strapped her into her pushchair a grey-haired man handed her down the two bags she'd dropped inside the train.

"You're not going to try and carry on on the Tube are you?" asked an older woman. "You should get a taxi."

"I can't afford it really." Should she phone her mother and ask her to meet her there?

"I don't think you can afford not to, do you?" The woman walked away.

The woman was right. She would have to spend her last thirty pounds on a taxi. She would have nothing to offer her mother.              

    

   

"Well, cheers, then," said Tom.

They had just picked up their keys to their new flat in the Docklands. They'd managed to sell the cottage quite quickly, offering a generous deposit on the new property. Tom had gone back to accounting and she'd got a part-time teaching job. That had enabled them to get a good mortgage. Her mother was baby-sitting tonight.

Alicia held up her glass and muttered "Cheers."

"Hey, what's up? You ought to be happier than this."

"I am but I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"About that young woman. The one who caught Bobbie when she fell from the train."

"She jumped. She didn't fall. She was being naughty. You've got to stop blaming yourself. It could have happened to anyone."

"She was scared by the noise from the door behind. So, not naughty exactly. But it's not just that. That woman. She looked so fragile. As if she might break."

"She obviously wasn't all that fragile."

"I just keep wondering. I've looked out for her a few times when I've been at Liverpool Street Station. I'd recognise her. I’m sure I would. I never thanked her properly."

"I'm sure she understood. Is that why you were staring into the distance just then?"

Alicia sighed. "Yes, every time I see someone with very short wispy hair, I think it might be her."

"You've got to stop obsessing. Come on, drink up."

Alicia pursed her lips and nodded.        

 

She didn't stop though. The very next Tuesday found her at Liverpool Station again. It had been a Tuesday when she and Bobbie had arrived. Their train became the 11.35. And so here she was waiting for the 11.35 to go out. That was a strange time for a commuter, actually. It rather suggested that the young woman had some sort of consultancy job. Perhaps her office was nowhere near here and she'd just been out to see a client. Maybe she'd go and see that client again?

Alicia watched the crowds making their way to and from the trains. If it was like this now what must it be like in the rush hour? She ought to be glad that she didn't have to come here often. She was lucky; she could cycle to the private infant school where she now worked. But something kept bringing her back to this place. She had this compulsion to look for the young woman.

What about that one over there, with the very short blond hair? No, she didn't look fragile enough. That girl with the red hair? Too young. The one rushing along the next platform looked delicate enough but she was too tall. And anyway, it was the wrong platform.

Would she really recognise her again if she did see her?       

 

The months passed by. Alicia gradually became busy with school and then with Bobbie's attendance at the local Kindergarten. Her weekly trips to Liverpool Street stopped. Even so, whenever she had an occasion to go into the city she would keep her eyes open as she crossed the busy commuter station. She still kept spotting look-alikes.

One day during the summer holidays she was taking Bobbie to an event for younger children on the South Bank. Bobbie refused her pushchair most of the time now and preferred to toddle along on a set of reins. She suddenly started pulling on them.

"Lady," she muttered. "Lady."

She was pointing to a woman with long red hair who was striding along the concourse, a paper cup in one hand and a lap-top in the other.

Bobbie was pulling really hard now and she began whimpering. "Lady! Lady!

Before Alicia could stop her she'd bumped into the woman who dropped her cup, spilling what looked like a latte on the floor.

"Hey you," said the woman, chuckling. "Are you determined to make me spill my drink every time I see you?"

The woman turned to face Alicia. "Nice to see you again and I'm glad that neither of you are the worse for your ordeal."

Alicia at once recognised the pale delicate face.

"You probably didn't realise it was me," said the woman, pulling what turned out to be a wig off her head. And there she was again, looking as if you could break her into two just by touching her.               

"Let me get you another coffee," said Alicia. "It's the least I can do. Especially as we didn't get to thank you properly."

"There was nothing to thank me for. Anybody would have done the same. Anyway, you did me a favour really."

"We did?"

"Let's go over there where we can sit down and I'll explain." The woman nodded towards Starbucks. "My train's been cancelled. The next one isn't for an hour. That is, if you're not in a hurry?"

It would be fine. The pirate show was going on all day and in any case Bobbie seemed fascinated by the young woman.

A few moments later, Alicia and the young woman, whose name she found out was Sheila Hamilton, were sipping coffee and Bobbie was drinking an orange juice.

"You're probably wondering about the wig," said Sheila. "I've had chemo and the hair never did grow back properly. I got the wig because I was fed up of people treating me as if I'd break."

"I'm sorry," said Alicia.

"Don't be," said Sheila. "I'm absolutely fine now. It's just the hair that's playing up. But I wasn't so fine that day this young lady tried to jump off a train." She stroked Bobbie's head. "I was a wreck. I couldn't react properly to anything. But then when I saw her about to slip down between the doorway and the platform I stopped feeling sorry for myself and responded. It was the wake-up call I needed."

She still looked delicate to Alicia. She was so thin and her skin was so pale. And now that she'd taken her wig off her hair still looked like a baby's. Yet she must be quite strong. She was obviously working and that lap-top and another big bag she was carrying looked quite cumbersome.

"I can't have any children, I'm afraid. It was ovarian cancer and it was spreading rapidly. So I've had a full hysterectomy and they've taken out a lot of other bits and pieces as well." She patted her tummy. "No baby-making bits left." 

"I'm so sorry."

"Again, don't be. I never wanted children. But I did rather want that to be my choice than have it forced upon me." She smiled down at Bobbie. "And this little one could almost make me change my mind."             

Bobbie started tugging at Alicia. She pointed to Sheila. "Pratt!" she mumbled.  

Sheila chuckled. "I guess I am one, really, opting to miss out on all of this."

"Bobbie, where did you learn that word?" Alicia felt her cheeks going red. That Kindergarten, really. 

Bobbie stated rummaging in Alicia's bag. She pulled out the pirate hat that Alicia had bought for her. "Lady. Pratt," she said offering it to Sheila.

"Oh goodness," said Alicia. "I think she wants you to come to the pirate show with us. I'm so sorry if she sounded rude. And actually, I guess we ought to get going before we miss all the big events."

Sheila pulled her wig back on and the hat on top of it. "Well, then what do you think, me hearties?"

Bobbie giggled.

"We'd better leave Sheila in peace now. Come on." Alicia started gathering up Bobbie's things.

"You know what," said Sheila. "I'd love to come with you if you'll have me. I was on my way home and I was going to work remotely this afternoon but all of that can wait."

"You'd be very welcome."

Alicia wondered for a moment whether Sheila was just being polite but as they made their way down to the Tube it was clear that the other woman was really enjoying her daughter's company.

"Now you just make sure you hold on tightly to me or your mummy when we're getting on and off the trains," said Sheila.

Alicia had a thought. Both she and Tom were only children. They were a bit short of family. Would Sheila be willing to be an adopted aunt? She would see how the pirate event went and ask her before they parted.

They arrived at the platform and seconds later the train rumbled into the station. Sheila grabbed Bobbie's hand. "Shall we join our vessel, young ship mate?" she said.

Alicia laughed. Yes, she would certainly ask her later.   

About the author

Gill James is published by The Red Telephone, Butterfly and Chapeltown.  

She edits CafeLit and writes for the online community news magazine: Talking About My Generation.

She teaches Creative Writing and has an MA in Writing for Children and PhD in Creative and Critical Writing.    

http://www.gilljameswriter.com  

https://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B001KMQRKE

           https://twitter.com/GillJames   

 

 

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Strange Meeting

by Jo Dearden

 café latte 

 Jenny drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. She watched the rain sluicing down the windscreen, the wipers rhythmically sweeping back and forth. Traffic was at a standstill. She was going to be late. Up ahead, she could see people getting out of their cars, craning their necks.

A siren blared in the distance. An ambulance roared past at an alarming speed.  Eventually the traffic started to move. About a mile down the road, she could see a police car with a flashing blue light. The ambulance next to a car upside down in the ditch. It didn’t look good.

She arrived at the station car park as her train was leaving. She looked at the train timetable. The next train to London was in half an hour. She went into the station café and ordered a large latte. She took the paper cup of steaming coffee to a table at the far end, having noticed a dark-haired man, about her age, sitting by himself at the other end. She glanced at him, but he didn’t look up.

She got her phone out of her handbag. No new messages. She texted Will her boss to tell him what had happened, and she would be late. He responded with a curt reply:

‘Set your alarm earlier if you want to keep this job.’

Katie sighed as she put the phone down on the table. She had been late a few times with various excuses and although this was genuine, she doubted it would be make any difference. Her phone started to ring loudly. In her hurry to pick it up, her right elbow knocked over the almost full cup of coffee. Brown liquid shot across the table puddling on to the floor. She scraped her chair back and went over to the counter. The attendant was nowhere to be seen.

‘Here, let me help you,’ she heard a male voice. She turned round to see the man she had noticed, armed with paper napkins striding over to her table.

‘Would you like another?’ he said smiling. He patted his pockets.

‘Sorry, I seem to have spent my last change.’

‘Oh, let me buy you one. You’ve been so kind. So clumsy of me. I’m late for work and my boss isn’t too happy.’

The bar attendant came back. Jenny ordered two coffees.

‘Don’t suppose I could have a bacon sandwich too?’ he said.

‘Um, sure.’ She looked at him quizzically.

‘I’ll pay you back.’

‘Ok, great. I’ll have one too.’

‘What do you do?’ he asked her as they sat down with the coffees and sandwiches.

‘I work in an advertising agency. PA to the guy who runs it, but probably not for much longer.’

Jenny sipped her coffee.

‘How about you?’

‘Oh, this and that,’ he said vaguely. ‘Been away for a while, so like you might be looking for something else soon.’

They started to eat their sandwiches. Neither of them seemed to know what to say next.

The loudspeaker on the platform crackled. The next train to London would be arriving at Platform 2 in the next few minutes.

‘Well, thanks. Really kind of you,’ he said.

He picked up his rucksack and swung it over one shoulder and sauntered out of the café door onto the platform.

Jenny went over to the news stand beside the café counter. As she paid for the paper she had chosen, she heard the train arriving. She rushed on to the platform. The man seemed to have disappeared.

She stepped into the nearest carriage and found a seat. Still no sign of him. As the train pulled out of the station she looked out of the window and thought she saw him walking towards the exit. She opened her newspaper. On the inside page there was a photo of a man that looked like the man in the cafe. Above was a headline:

Man escapes from Belmarsh Prison.

In smaller type underneath: Police warn not approach him as he may be armed.

About the author

Jo Dearden trained as a journalist with the Oxford Mail and Times.  She did a degree in English Literature with creative writing as a mature student. She co-edited her local village newsletter for about ten years. She also worked for a number of years for the Citizens’ Advice Bureau. She is currently a member of a creative writing group, which is stimulating her writing again. Jo lives in Suffolk.