Page 80 of Welcome to Pennycress Inn

Bending to grab another of Grace’s tiny T-shirts, she watched as the five teenage boys ran the length of the platform picking up their pastel-coloured clothes. Pausing, she accepted the handfuls of clothes as she was handed them and glanced around the busy platform. Unbelievable. Every day the newspapers and the news told stories on knife crime, postcode gangs and the general disrespect of young people today, and yet, here she was, her suitcase having expelled her worldly goods,and who comes to her rescue? Yep, a group of wayward teenagers whilst the ‘respectful’ citizens happily stand around in their expensive suits, clasping briefcases and desperately trying to avert their eyes, pretending to be focused on the urgent text they had just received, or too busy staring at the empty railway line willing the train to come and rescue them from their uncomfortable stance.

Rolling her eyes, she wheeled the buggy in the direction of a pair of flowery pink leggings which were blowing across the platform perilously close to a group of office workers trying to ignore the commotion right in front of them.

‘Excuse me.’ Picking up some leggings, she jogged on to the next item.

‘Here you go, miss.’ The boy in the blue cap passed another armful of clothes to Jenny.

‘Thank you.’ Nodding, she took the clothes from him just as the platform filled with the noise of the approaching train.

‘Do you want me to check the lift for you? In case there’s more in there and upstairs?’

‘No, no. You’ve done more than enough. You get your train.’ Smiling, she stood and accepted the rest of their belongings as the teenagers ran towards the train. Heading back to the suitcase, she lifted the lid and chucked their luggage back inside. The zip must have worked loose. She’d known it was a bit dodgy but had assumed it would at least get them to Helen’s.

‘What are we going to do? Hey, Grace?’ Dragging the suitcase towards the bench, she tilted her head towards the lift. It would be just her luck that she’d left a trail of clothes all the way from the bus stop outside the station. Looking back towards the train humming at the side of the platform, she drummed her fingers against the wooden seat. What was she supposed to do? Run to catch the train, which would no doubt leave any second now, or go and collect the rest of their clothes?

She’d get the train. They couldn’t afford to miss it. If they did, they’d miss Helen and Jenny wouldn’t have a clue what she would be doing for the next few months. Clothes she could replace, not right now, but they could muddle through until the end of the month and she was able to take a paycheck.

Yes, they’d get the train.

‘One minute.’ Trying to block out Grace’s now high-pitched screaming, she yanked the zip to the suitcase up. Pulling the band out of her hair, she looped it through the small hole in the pull of the zip, and stretching it, tied it to the strap. She shrugged, it wasn’t perfect but it’d have to do until they got there.

‘Come on, Grace. We’re getting on the train now.’ Standing up, she pushed forward towards the track.

‘Blankie.’ Grace’s voice broke into a series of hiccups as she cried. Holding her hands up, she tried to grasp the hood of the buggy.

‘Blankie. Drat, drat, drat.’ The damn thing had been in the suitcase. She’d packed it in there worried that it would get lost on the train. She hadn’t seen it as she’d shoved the recovered clothes back in though. Looking from the train to the lift, Jenny cursed under her breath and turned the buggy back on itself. If she didn’t find Blankie, she could wave goodbye to any sleep for the foreseeable future.

‘Blankie!’

‘OK, OK. Let’s go and find Blankie.’ Striding towards the lift, she kept her eyes on the floor, searching for anything familiar looking.

‘There, it is. There’s Blankie.’ Bending down, Jenny retrieved the pink, holey scrap of material from where it had somehow wrapped its way around the leg of a bench. Giving it a shake, she inspected it before wiping it over her top and passing it to Grace who immediately leaned her head against the back of the buggy and pushed her thumb in her mouth, clutching her precious Blankie between her index and middle finger. Taking a deep breath, Jenny tried to push the image of a million germs marching their way from the blanket to Grace’s soft cheek. She’d give her a bath later anyway. A few germs were nothing compared to her screaming herself to sleep. It would be fine.

An earth-shattering rumble sounded from the platform below. Peering down over the side of the footbridge, she rolled her eyes as their train inched forward, picking up speed as it left the station until it was just a dot in the far distance.

Great.

Leaning her back against the cool of the wooden bench, Jenny closed her eyes, her face turned up to the summer sun beating down. She’d twisted the buggy to face the wall behind, the hood pulled as low as it could go, so at least Grace was shaded. She could already feel her arms tingling with the heat. She hadn’t bothered slapping the sun cream on this morning. After all, they should have been on the train most of the day.

The whimsical ringtone from her mobile screeched through the silent, empty platform. Opening her eyes, she grappled around in the bottom of the buggy until her fingers closed around her mobile. The last thing she needed was for Grace to wake up and get bored now. ‘Hello?’

‘Jenny, Jen. How’s the train ride going? Is Gracie enjoying it?’

‘Helen? We missed the train. The damn suitcase came open spewing our clothes everywhere. Luckily some teenagers came to the rescue and helped me collect it all, but we’ve missed our train. Sorry.’

‘Oh no, did you manage to get everything back?’

‘I think so.’

‘That’s something then. When’s the next one?’

‘Half an hour.’ Glancing across to the departure board, she rolled her eyes. ‘Scrap that. It’s been delayed. The next train’s in an hour and forty-five minutes.’

‘You’re still going to get here in time though, aren’t you?’

‘In all honesty, I don’t know. I hope so, but it will probably be quite tight now.’ Leaning forward, she picked at a loose thread on the knee of her jeans. ‘Sorry.’

‘Hey, no need to apologise. It’s not your fault.’

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