Train Travels #7

He re-read the notice in the Obituary column, “…long battle with illness…bravely fought…loving wife, mother and grandmother.” The family asked for donations for the Hospice rather than flowers to be sent.

It was easier to count the lost years in decades. At least five of them. Where had the time and life gone? The wraiths of despair and sadness caused his heart to skip a beat and momentarily he felt his soul slip away from him.

He had loved her. Utterly. But he had never possessed the courage to tell her. Now he had lost her. For good.

“Feint heart never won fair lady.” He hated that saying.

The train manager announced, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we are now approaching Doncaster station. Please ensure that you take all your belongings with you. Thank you for traveling with Great Eastern and have a safe onward journey.”

It would be another two hours to home. To the town he had moved to in order to escape the broken heart and confusion he had felt.

Her smell and taste lived in him once more. He put the newspaper down.

Why had she bought it? Did she know?

He studied his hands. Finger joints throbbed with arthritic discomfort but he clenched them tightly into fists. Shards of pain filled his mind, but at least it acted as a distraction.

His wife returned.

“They didn’t have any ham so I got you a chicken salad instead. Is that OK?”

“Fine thanks.”

“You look like you have seen a ghost.” She said.

“Just tired from the trip. Nothing to worry about.”

She searched the carrier bag and tutted.

“I didn’t pick any milk up for the tea. Could you nip back to the buffet car for some?”

“OK.” He lifted himself out of the seat, his replacement hip still stiff and uncomfortable. But he was glad to stretch his legs and move. He threw the grief over his shoulder, sagging slightly under its weight.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“Just the milk. It was nice to see your sister.  She’s definitely visiting us Boxing Day and staying for a couple of nights. Anita can meet her at the station.”

She picked the paper up and casually examined the front page, “Anything in the paper?” she asked.

“No. Not really.” He made his way to the buffet car. 

She hoped he had read the news. His sister had told her when they were washing up after dinner last night.  She was pleased and sad in equal measure. But above all she hoped he would no longer cry out for Audrey in his sleep.

 All of them deserved some peace now.