She hadn’t mentioned having any plans. Since they’d told their friends they’d separated, neither felt compelled to share the details of every little thing they got up and with whom, but it wasvirtually impossible to keep secrets from each other when they still shared a house.
~ Nope. Forgot to switch off my alarm. Made a cuppa and came back to bed. x zzzz…
Kris didn’t reply to that and instead passed a little more time scrolling back through their texts, most consisting of one of them asking the other to pick up bread or milk or something on their way home. It probably was weird that they still lived together—some of their friends had blatantly said as much—and they had talked about selling up and moving into their own places, but after so many years, first as friends, then co-parents, then spouses, neither of them wanted to. It was comfortable, easy, and it worked for them. If that ever changed, if either of them met someone else…well, they’d deal with it when the time came.
The train drew into the next station, the one before Kris’s stop, and a few more passengers boarded, most airport-bound and lugging along large suitcases. He contemplated moving to stand by the door: the stations were only a couple of minutes apart, and the thought of being stuck on the wrong side of someone’s luggage, unable to leave the train, was giving him minor palpitations.
He needn’t have worried, or not about that, because several minutes on, the train was still standing at the platform. Leaning against the window, Kris could just about see the front of the train, where the guard was talking to the driver. The guard glanced along the line and with a shrug reboarded. The announcement came a second later.
“Due to a points failure, this service will be delayed by approximately fifteen minutes. We apologise for any inconvenience.”
*
The hydraulics hissed as they powered down again, the tick of the idling train like a stopwatch counting up to the moment when Kris would have to concede he was too late to make it. Perhaps he should give up now, switch platforms and head back home. Except it wasn’t in his nature to quit, even when that was thebest option, and in any case, given how early he’d left, he wasn’t actually late yet.
The woman sitting opposite leaned forward and wriggled out of her jacket, smiling apologetically for invading Kris’s space. He smiled back.
“It’s stuffy in here, isn’t it?” he said.
She nodded and blew out of her mouth, directing the breath up towards her hair, which had flopped in the humidity. “Mind if I open a window?” she asked.
“Not at all.”
She stood up and slid the narrow vent open a few inches, letting in a waft of cool, damp air. Leaning towards it, she took a few deep breaths. “That’s better.”
Kris had to agree. He was one of those always-cold people, so the heat didn’t bother him, but with the outside world obscured by condensation and the growing impatience of the passengers, the atmosphere in the carriage had become quite oppressive.
The woman sat down again and fished a compact mirror out of her bag, eyeing her reflection in dismay. “God, I’ll be fit for nothing by the time I get to my interview.”
“New job?”
“Yeah.” She smoothed under her eyes with a fingertip. “Head of Physics. I’m a high school teacher…and beginning to wonder if I should take this as a sign.” Frowning, she put the compact away and explained, “It’s a big step up for me. I’ve only been teaching for three years.”
“It’s always struck me as a really tough job.”
“It is, but I love it.”
“Well, break a leg,” Kris said.
She laughed. “Thanks. How about you? What do you do for a living?”
“I’m an actor.”
“I thought so.”
“Did you?”
“Break a leg?”
“Ah. Yeah.” Kris chuckled.
“And wasn’t that a script you were reading?”
“It was. I’m recording a play today. That’s assuming this train ever moves.”
“Sod’s law, isn’t it? Will they start without you?”
“Probably.” Kris hoped they wouldn’t. There were plenty of scenes that Tommy wasn’t in, but he liked to listen to the other actors, get a feel for the dynamics between the different characters.