Crewe


That was a question Iain had answered during many long and lonely conversations with himself. The answer was always the same although it had never seemed so obvious before.

“So what would you say?” Adam was quietly insistent now.

Iain didn’t hesitate this time. “I’d be hers, as simple as that. I’d move, follow her wherever she wanted to go. Even abroad….”

“You said you were studying. Would you give that up too? And your job?”

“If I had to, yes, without having to think twice. I could move to a university down south, but some things are far more important in life.” Iain stopped for a few moments. “I know how reprehensible it makes me sound, but even knowing the pain that would be caused to so many people, I can’t help myself wishing to be with her. If she told me that…” Iain’s voice drifted away. He closed his eyes tightly, horrified with himself that he could think anything that would cause her any pain.

“But then there’s the age difference.”

Ah, rational as ever. Bloody psychologist, can’t he see I’m upset?

Iain had thought about that too. “It’s certainly an issue, though I think more for Frida than me, though I do worry that sometimes she might think that this was all some crazy crush … and of course I might worry about the reaction of our parents and other people. There would always be someone who says “hey, what’s going on there?”, wouldn’t there.”

“But you do realise that it must be quite a thing for her, don’t you?”

“Oh, of course. I try and reassure her about it – no-one would bat an eye lid if it was me who was 31 and she was 23, would they?”

“I doubt they would.”

“I try and explain that age is nothing but a tally of the years you’ve been on earth, no more important than that. I don’t know, it seems to me that it’s how you think and feel that matters more, but it’s just another difficulty for us to add to the list…”

Adam simply didn’t know what to make of his younger bunk-mate, though he could hear the sincerity in Iain’s words. For his part, Iain was staring upwards into the shadows of the cabin, up to where the roof must be; he couldn’t tell where the roof was because of the darkness and it was as if the night sky stretched onward above him. For an instant Iain felt miniscule, like events were running away from and towards him simultaneously, and at break-neck speed.

“So you met yesterday?”

Iain was grateful for the interruption this time. Yesterday? Was it really that long ago? He had taken the train down from Aberdeen in the morning, arriving at King’s Cross on a warm October evening. He had been ten minutes late because of a hold-up on the line and tried to remain calm, despite the maddeningly cheerful conductor telling everyone that the train would be on its way any moment. But damn it, Iain just wanted to get going. He finally tore out of the station and in such a nervous state, climbed aboard the first Thameslink train that pulled up in front of him. It was only when the train whipped past Cricklewood that it sunk in. He could laugh now, but he was sick to the pit of his stomach at the time – What if I end up at Luton airport? He had jumped off at Harpenden and distinctly remembered punching the ticket machine when it refused to take his Scottish ten-pound notes. He was sure it had chuckled at him.

“Frida tells me that I was practically running round the corner when she first saw me at Cricklewood, but I was just so agitated at being late. I saw the hotel first, then the pub where we’d agreed to meet. I think if I’d been walking I might have seen her sat at the window, but instead I hurtled into the pub and looked to my right. No one there.”

“Did you think she wasn’t going to be there?”

“Only for the merest of seconds, because this was insane, coming all the way from Aberdeen to see a woman I’ve never met, not telling anyone where I was going. Would it have been any surprise if she hadn’t been there? But of course she was there. I looked to my left and she was sat on a sofa, looking at me and smiling warmly. We hugged hello, kissed and I sat down next to her.”

“As easy as that, eh?”

“Easy? I don’t know … I think I was too flustered after ending up halfway across London for me to be nervous. But here she was, sat next to me and far more gorgeous than I imagined. I was staring ahead for a few moments while I caught my breath, though I caught Frida looking at me out of the corner of her eye. We chatted for a while, and she asked if I would like to kiss her. I thought I would be petrified, but it was the most natural thing to do, to kiss her there and then and make the sweaty guy at the bar very jealous indeed.”

“And?”

“And it was beautiful, despite my nervousness. After she kissed me and rested her head on my shoulder, it was obvious that everything from there on in was going to be fine.”

“Weren’t you a little anxious to find out what she really looked like? Pictures can only tell you so much…”

“I was, even though I knew I was going to like her, but that day was just the culmination of about four weeks of excitement for us. We had a countdown going on for those four weeks, an email first thing in the morning to remind each other that another day had been scratched off the list.”

“And you weren’t disappointed?”

“Not in the slightest!” Iain’s voice quivered a little.

Something simply clicked for Adam. Iain’s manner and voice, his seeming desperation and hopelessness, his sincerity in confessing his story to a perfect stranger. It all made sense now. Adam wanted to phrase his next question to Iain, about the young man's experience as easily as possible – he did, after all, have to spend the next few hours in the same cabin as him.




Basingstoke

“I know exactly what you mean about the nervousness of meeting someone for the first time.” Becky was reciprocating, opening up to her; the shoes were off and the half-moon reading glasses were on the table. “I’d written to my husband for months before we actually met – imagine it, no e-mail or mobile phones!”

Frida always enjoyed these flights of fancy, though she did wonder how she and Iain would have managed without their email or mobiles. They would have spent a small fortune on stamps.

Becky hadn’t even missed a beat. Her voice was pleasing, almost metronomic. “He was a friend of my brother, from the navy. Jack, my brother, had told me about this ‘handsome’ friend of his who had noticed me in the family photographs Jack had in his room. Since I was single and pushing twenty, my mother automatically thought I should get in touch with him. Otherwise I would end up a spinster or something…”

Frida giggled. “What did you think of him when you first saw him?”

“Well, he wasn’t as handsome as I was told, or imagined, but he was very nice and eager to show how much he loved me. I let myself go with the tide and eventually … I suppose I fell in love with him too. A year later we were engaged, and I guess I haven’t stopped loving him since…”

Frida smiled warmly and was about to ask another question when Becky interrupted.

“But never mind about that.” Her palms pressed urgently onto the table. “Where were we? You were telling me about yesterday, before I took us off on a tangent!”

“That’s quite alright,” laughed Frida. “Erm… oh yes! We were supposed to meet at about six o’clock, so I had plenty of time to get pretty nervous and freak out a bit. Although I also had all the time I needed to look my best. I spent over two hours getting ready! I wonder if he knows?”

“Well, probably not. But let’s face it, it probably only took him 5 minutes anyway.” Becky grinned toothfully.

“Oh, I know! But it took me ages to decide what to wear, get my hair prepared, put plenty of smelly oils on my skin and be especially careful in applying my make-up. Before I left I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I was very happy with what I saw. I just hope Iain liked it too.”

“How was the journey?”

“Ah, the train … pretty uneventful, apart from a delay when one of the doors jammed. I think Iain and I exchanged practically hundreds of text messages through the day, him telling me how nervous he was and me keeping him up to date with what was going on down here. It was so lovely.” She wanted to think about those hours a little bit more, but Becky didn’t give her a chance.

“Weren’t you a little afraid as well? I mean, he was a total stranger after all, and I suspect no one knew you were going to see him.” There was a hint of disapproval in Becky’s voice, Frida’s mother coming to the fore again.

Frida just nodded. “I suppose it was quite a reckless thing to do.” Frida blanched a little when she thought of what her mother would think if she found out. “I’m just glad he turned out to be the way he is.”

Becky’s smile returned. “So finally, how did you meet?”

Frida sighed. “I was in the pub waiting, so I ordered a shandy and tried to ignore the shady-looking guy at the bar who kept smiling at me. I didn’t have to wait long though – I was about to send another message to see where he was when I saw him though the window. He almost made my heart stop.”

“You were impressed?”

“Oh yes! Even though he was almost running and he looked so concerned, like he wanted to get in the pub as quickly as possible to make sure I didn’t have to wait any longer. Those few seconds when he turned towards me were indescribable. I was convinced the whole pub could hear my heart pounding.” Frida was visibly excited, the happiness of their meeting overwhelming the sadness of their situation if only for a moment.

“And did you just chat in the pub?”

“Yes, for a while. All I could see was his profile and my God … he was handsome! I wasn’t expecting this – when I saw him in the flesh, I just ran out of breath, words, everything. I wish I had a picture with me to show you!”

“I believe you, I believe you, dear!” Frida’s excitement was becoming infectious.

“I tried to hide the fact that I was slightly in shock, but the kiss meant I didn’t even have to try.”

“The kiss! So soon?” Becky asked in surprise.

“Well, I didn’t plan it like that but the suspense was killing me! I just asked him, he said yes, and we kissed ever so gently.”

Frida leaned in close. “There is another thing about Iain I haven’t told you yet, though it’s quite important.”

Becky’s ears almost visibly pricked at this. She nodded, as if to encourage Frida on.

“Until yesterday, he was a virgin.”

Becky’s eyebrows arched so quickly they almost hit the roof of the carriage. She had almost been expecting this Iain to be something of a ladies’ man, a serial seductionist, a predator perhaps. This she wasn’t expecting at all, and she breathlessly stammered out a stream of questions which just went to show how wrong she had been about Iain all along.

“Sometimes I wonder whether that’s the reason why we had to meet. The whole situation makes me feel like Iain and I are no longer in charge, like it’s all already been decided. I can almost feel someone pulling on my strings and controlling me sometimes.”

The two women sat in silence for a few moments, disturbed only by a thump from nearby. Both craned their necks to see a thin young woman, all elbows and knees, apologise to a florid-faced businessman bearing the mark of having had a bag dropped on his head. Becky was still smirking when she turned to face Frida again.

“So how long were you in the pub?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have thought any longer than twenty minutes or so. We’d kissed again, less nervously this time and then headed to the room.” She giggled to herself, and looked conspiratorially at Becky. “I think he was really excited by this point.”

Becky eyed Frida carefully. “I’ll bet he was too, my dear.” She was as desperate to hear the story as Frida was to tell it. “Then you went to your room?”

Frida nodded.