The Hand

The train started to move in front of Anne. She reached the platform just as the train shut its doors. She looked around, the station was deserted, it was cold night and a sense the desolation swamped her. The only comfort was the large flood light above the platform, lighting the area, giving it an illusion of warmth.

She looked at the information board. That was the last train. She was furious. She kicked the floor, dropped her bag and threw her arms up with an air of anger. She sat down loosened her high heels, crossed her legs and reached for her bag.

The sound of running steps made her look up. A disoriented young man appeared in front of her. His briefcase was in one hand and his jacket over his shoulder. He stopped to watch the train move away, placed the case on the floor and put on his jacket while recovering his breath.

‘Was that the last train?’ He asked

‘I am afraid it was, until tomorrow at four thirty.’ Said Anne 

He was probably in his late twenties, tall and lanky; somehow untidy he could be a tradesman, or a farmer. His expression was pleasant and warm. Yes warm and kind she thought, but it was his voice that made her take notice of him. It was rich, round, virile, masculine yet relaxing and warm.

He sat down at the other end of the bench and looked at her.

He thought she was lovely but very young, possibly only eighteen. Her short wavy hair framed an oval face with large eyes. She was wearing a full length coat; its sides were touching the floor, opened in the front to display her long crossed legs and dangling high heels. A large hood covered her head.

I will get an uber, he thought, taking his phone out his pocket

He again looked at her and noticed she had a telephone in her hand, took her gloves off and started to text.

Her fingers attracted his attention, slim and narrow gave the impression of being longer that they were, and the fingernails... they were familiar... he felt paralysed.

In a split second, he was back at the farm, the overturned tractor... his sister’s body lying on the side of the dam, face down and her hand sticking out near her head. It was the same hands... he felt blurry and nearly dizzy... had to say something

‘Do you live on this train line?

‘Yes in Hampton’ she responded interrupting her typing.

‘I am calling an uber... I could give you a lift if you like; I’m in Sandringham... the next station’.

‘That would be great if you don’t mind?’ she responded thinking he does not look like a weirdo.

 ‘Did you miss the train?’ He asked again

‘Yes, I have been to a party.’

‘It was a twenty first party given for my best friend.’

‘An old friend?’ he asked trying to establish her age

‘We have been friends since school.’

‘How is that none of your friend took you to the Station?’

‘They all went to a nightclub dancing. I couldn’t go, as it is I am tired and I need to get up before seven’. 

‘Really, are you working on something special?’

‘I am student teacher; I am going to Frankston tomorrow as part of my student practices’.

Wow, she must be twenty-one, not so young; should I tell her that I am with the Institute of Teaching? Maybe not just yet, he thought.

He did not remember what else they chatted about but to his disappointment soon they were at her place.

He shook her hand. He wanted to hold it longer, but just good bye and left.

That night he dreamed of the farm, and of his beautiful sister Angie, he wanted to hold her hand. 

During the following weeks he looked out for her in the train station where Anne would have to change trains, but unfortunately to no avail.

Then one Saturday morning he was around Hampton shops, when he noticed a girl in a pair of workout tight pants showing a great looking bum; she crossed the road and entered the Post Office.

The traffic lights changed and as the traffic moved he was forced to wait to cross the road. He looked into the Post Office but couldn’t see anything, it was dark inside. Someone else entered the Post Office and then he saw her; It was Anne, she was facing him, she looked different in tight pans a blue jumper, but great. 

‘Anne’ he called her crossing the road.

‘Hi, how are you?

‘Thanks again for the lift that night’ she said

‘How was it with your students in Frankston?

‘Well, it is a suburb with a different social-economic background, and I had made some adjustment to my attitude, I want to survive teaching there’. She smiled

What are you doing now? He asked

‘Nothing, I have just finished in the Post Office.’ responded Anne

‘Would you like a coffee or are you busy? ’ he said as they passed one of the many cafeterias.

They had coffee and she chatted and smiled a lot, she hoped he would asked her out.

As they were leaving the coffee shop he said.

‘I am going to the charity store. I am looking for an inexpensive but good quality cabinet for my parents’ garage.’

‘I often go to there looking for old books and records’. Said Anne

What music do you like?’ this is going well he thought

‘Oh! Classical music.’

‘Really?’ He asked. This was his chance.

‘The Philharmonic Orchestra is giving a concert on Vivaldi next week, is that something you would be interested?

I would love to attend.....do you like classical music? She asked hesitantly

‘Love it.’ He responded with a big grin; it has been a long time since he talked to a girl like her, fun pleasant and interesting.

During the next few days he felt guilty, thinking of her all the time. After all he was in a relationship with a beautiful girl, one that he had promised her parents to look after. That was important in his part of the world.

Well she likes music and there is really no harm in talking, after all Meghan is away on business and I am just talking to her... nothing else.

The concert was held on a Friday evening and Anne was excited changing her clothes and deciding what should be the appropriate gear for the occasion, how formal was it. No formal her sister said just nice not over the top.

So she was very disappointed when after confirming he will pick her up, Max rang to say something has come up and will meet her at the venue.

He was on the train at Central Station, going home to the farm. Meghan was with him, but not happy to be returning home. She was reading a fashion magazine. He was worried. Should I tell Meghan that we are breaking up? Why? 

All started when she came back early from her business trip.

‘What? there is no food in this house?’

‘I didn’t know you were coming back earlier and I spend the week at my parent’s house.’

‘Your mother would have been pleased.’ She said on ironic tone.

‘I shall get you sushi from downstairs.’

She looked tired and vulnerable should he cancel his plan and forget about Vivaldi?

‘I am going to bed when I finish eaten.’

‘I had planned to attend the Vivaldi’s concert. I did not get you a ticket because I guessed your would not have like to come.’

‘Can you affort it?’

‘I am not sure but as you know since we got this apartment we cannot afford anything.’

‘Yes well it would be good if you had a better job.’

‘I think you may be very tired and I shall leave you to have a good sleep.’

On his way to the concert Max kept on feeling guilty. Is it because I met this charming girl that I am finding things so difficult with Meghan?

When he arrived at the concert hall Anne was already sitting down and wave at him smiling. Certainly she does not have the polished attitude that Meghan has, but she is charming, he thought.

 After Vivaldi’s concert he had dinner with Anne and later took her home. It was good to talk to a girl like her. He felt light, at ease, free, happy, and in high spirits as he has never felt.

Thank you, I had a great time! She said extending her hand

He took the hand and held it for a moment. It was like a hundred thunder storms hit his inner being.

‘Yes. Thanks.’ He mumbled in some confusion. He was reluctant to say any more, may even afraid. For a moment he thought he should be honest and tell Anne that he was in a relationship. But something inside him kept on saying; no, don’t.

She was obviously disappointed that he did not suggest any further meetings and he sensed her disillusion.

He went home and sat on his lounge with the lights off and contemplated the city from their swish apartment. Meghan has insisted on this apartment.

‘After all I will be getting good money and we should be able to affort something better.’

But then she needed the right clothes and accessories and that took most of her salary.

‘If I am to succeed I need to present myself adequately.’

Max pondered ...yes, she was now a lot more sophisticated... but how beautiful and charming she was she when we were still on the farm.

He had pursued her for a long time before she agreed to go out with him. It was since Angie died that she was near him all the time.

His mind went back to the first time they slept together, she was so soft, her skin like velvet, so charming.., what is it that he has done... or not done to make her so unhappy...

It must be all my fault, I wanted to marry her but now I am not sure... should I marry her if I feel this way towards other women? I have never felt like this before it has always been Meghan...Why Anne? It was her hand... my sister’s hand? How confused am I? 

When did it get like this? He tried to recollect.

May be when she was given a car for work. She wanted me to drive her to work and collect her and that was not convenient for me.

‘Why?’ Max asked

‘Because, I want to have a career!!

Because, you are not supporting me!!’

The car was most of the time left in the garage because it was too much trouble to park and she preferred to take a taxi or an Uber.

Should I tell Meghan that we are breaking up? What would her parent think? that I am not good, that I promised to take care of her and I am making her unhappy.

‘The doctors recommended that I stayed off the contraception pill for a while and certainly we cannot affort children.’ She told him a few weeks ago.

Is there anything wrong; Are you sick?

‘No, but I need a rest’

She was unhappy, but why? Had it always been so bad? He asked himself.

The lights were switched on and she appeared in night gown.

‘What are you doing here in the dark?’

‘Thinking.’

‘Thinking what?’

‘I think we need to visit your parents at the farm.’

‘Why?’

‘They may want to see you?’

‘The question is, do I want to see them?’

‘I need to go.’

‘Why?’

Max did not respond for a few seconds and as she was ready to ask again why Max stopped to look at her. A thousand thoughts race threw his mind.

She was still the beautiful girl he knew but the expression on her face has gone harder.

‘Am I really looking after her?’

‘Is it because I met Anne that things seem so difficult?’

 ‘Am I interested enough of her work?’ But she always dismissed talking about work.

She works with a fellow called Andrews but I have never met him.

She did not want me to go to the company’s annual party, it is only for the staff no partners. But some partners went.

What was wrong? He could not decide it.

‘We need to have some documents signed by my brother and Dad had asked me to take them to him. We could leave tomorrow and return on Monday as it is a holiday.’

The first person he met when they arrived at their country town was Ernest Tompson, his neighbour

 ‘Hi Max, are you here for the enquiry?’

‘What enquiry?’

‘Your sister’s death?’

‘I thought that was finalised sometime ago. It was an accident.’

‘Don’t you know?’

‘No.’

‘They lost the papers at the time but there is a new deputy and they have reopened it as a cold case.’

Why?

‘Well there has been another accident involving this type of tractor. A young man suffered a minor injury and his father appointed solicitors to take action against the tractor company.’ They wanted to use your sister’s case as a precedent.’

‘It seems that the Tractor company subpoena all the records of your sisters case and it have been able to establish that at the time there was no defect or faulty with your tractor. It is also believed from the findings of the forensic report that your sister was not driving the tractor.’ 

‘Who was driving the tractor?’

‘They know that another girl was driving.’

‘Whom?’

‘They know but they are not ready to release that information.’

How do they know?

‘Because, she left some of her hair and skirt fabric on the wreck.’

Max was alone on the train on his way back to the city alone, remembering that dreadful day. He could see it as if it was today. Meghan running to the house crying.

‘She lost control of the tractor!!’

‘She is lying there, I think she is dead!!’

They all ran to the dam, and there she was laying face down her hand sticking out on one side of her head...Meghan was there, her skirt was torn one side and her hair in much disarray.  

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