Page 35 of Slow Burn Summer

Kate breathed a sigh of relief when the train lurched forward out of the station bang on time. She’d double- and triple-checked to make sure she’d built in long enough to get across London to the radio station without looking bedraggled and rushed, aware she was expected to get a photograph with Glynn for her socials without Liv at her side to direct any necessary extra shots.

Closing her eyes for a steadying couple of minutes, she jolted upright when the train came to a sudden and unexpected stop.

“What’s happening?” she said, even though there was no one but the dozing elderly guy at the other end to hear her, and he was out for the count.

“Apologies for the pause, folks, some engineering works on the line. Shouldn’t be long before we’re moving again.”

Kate stared at the carriage doors, hoping a real human might appear to reassure her rather than the announcement.

Fifteen minutes passed. That was her bookstore-browsing time gone, then.

“Oi, oi!”

The doors slid open and about twenty men in soccer shirts flooded the carriage, settling around her.

“Mornin’,” a red-faced guy said, hovering near her table. “Mind if we sit down? The boss said it’d be all right if we spill in here, what with the delays and everything.” He jerked his headtoward the adjoining carriages. “Standing room only through there.”

She swallowed and gathered her notes up as three men in gold soccer shirts piled into the empty seats around her table.

“Going to the Wolves match?” the one opposite asked her.

She shook her head.

Another nodded at her notes. “Exam?”

She shook her head again. “Interview.”

“Job interviews, the pits.” The first guy grimaced as he opened a can of beer. It was like a starting whistle—all around the carriage cans were hauled from pockets and bags and cracked open.

“Want one to steady your nerves?”

Kate half laughed, slightly hysterical. It wasn’t even nine-thirty in the morning. “Umm, no thank you, better not.”

“Thanks for your patience, folks.” The carriage fell quiet to listen to the train manager over the loudspeaker. Not much we can do about the delay, I’m afraid, it’s looking like another twenty minutes or so before we’ll get moving again. I’ll keep you updated as soon as we hear anything. Now might be a good time to grab coffee from the buffet in carriage J if you’re thirsty. I’m afraid there won’t be any first-class trolley service today due to staff shortages, apologies for any inconvenience caused.”

A collective groan went around the carriage.

“Bloody trains,” someone muttered. “Thought we were in for a treat.”

Kate felt her hairline start to prickle with sweat. The pleasant warmth of the carriage had fast become overheated in the full glare of the morning sun, exacerbated by the pub-at-closing-time smell of lager and the dialed-up noise level on the now-packed train. She could feel all of her well-rehearsed lines blustering outof her head. No browsing in the bookstore, no leisurely coffee, but she should still be just about okay.

The guy opposite nodded at her notes. “What’s the interview for, then?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, glancing at her phone for the time again. “It’s live on the radio,” she said quietly.

“On the radio?” he said, really quite loud. “Which show?”

She nodded, jangling the bangle Liv had slid around her wrist last night. “Glynn Weston,” she said, almost heaving.

“No bullshit?”

People all around the carriage were listening in now.

“No bullshit,” she said, half wishing she’d accepted that beer.

“How come?”

Kate closed her eyes for a brief second. This was it, the job she’d been hired for. “I’m an author.” She could only hope the words didn’t sound as alien as they felt in her mouth.

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