8:45 to Southampton

The sound of a train whistle pierces through the violet-colored evening sky. The wheels of the steam engine slowly churn into action as the steam rises from its chimney. Couples and families walk along the platform, enjoying the warmth of the setting sun while they still can. 

Margery breaks through the huddles of people, coat flapping behind her as her heels slap against the concrete.

“Wait!” She calls, waving her hands frantically in the air. It’s no use, the machine chugs out of the station.

“Damn!” Margery exclaims as she drops her leather suitcase on the ground and rips her bellady hat from her head in frustration. A mother with her child scowls at her language.

“Pardon,” Margery says as an afterthought. The mother walks away quickly with her child in tow. 

Surveying her surroundings, she quickly picks up her suitcase and hurries into the station. Finding a ticket booth, she jogs up to it. 

“When is the next train to Southampton?” she asks earnestly.

The ticket agent glances up from his newspaper and consults the timetable. “Quarter to 9.”

“That late?”

“Yes madam.”

“Alright. One for Southampton please.”

After receiving her ticket, she takes a seat in one of the hard chairs in the stations and places her suitcase under the chair. Her foot bounces as she checks her watch. A soldier strolls into the station. His all-khaki outfit stands out amongst the civilians. He commands the room with subtlety, there is some sort of ranking shown on his shoulder which Margery can’t distinguish, but finds herself sitting straighter nonetheless. 

“One for Southampton please” 

“Of course. Thank you for your service.”

He awkwardly nods, and takes a seat next to Margery, he looks her up and down.

“Evening”

“Evening” Margery replies. He is quite handsome, his clean-shaven face and slicked-back blonde hair remind Margery of a schoolboy more than a soldier. Although his brown eyes carry a heaviness in them that she will never understand. 

He too likes what he sees. Tight shoulder-length brown curls framing rosy cheeks and blue eyes. He stops at her red-painted lips. She smiles knowingly.

They both break eye contact. Searching for something to keep them occupied for the next hour of waiting, but find nothing. He forgot to pick up a newspaper on his walk to the train station. Twiddling his thumbs, his eyes scan the room and land on Margery once again. Who, also bored, is playing with her fingernails. 

“Which train are you waiting for?” He musters up the courage to ask.

“Southampton.” She responds with a smile. 

“Me too. What brings you down there.”

“I’m training to be a nurse.”

“Well, I hope you get to take care of me one day.”

“I suppose we’ll have to see.”

He smiles. “Roger.”

“Margery. We’ll have to see if they even allow me to join. There were strict instructions for when to arrive at our accommodation.”

“They need all the help they can get.”

“I suppose. What brings you down there.”

“Orders.”

“I see.”

Roger smiles, and turns to look at the clock. He checks his watch, his knees bouncing. Sweat glistens on his brow. Slightly puzzled at his nervous state, Margery chooses to ignore it. 

-

An hour passes. Roger stands on the platform smoking a cigarette. The train is due to arrive at any moment. Margery gathers her things and walks onto the platform, hugging her coat close to her body, the temperature has dropped quickly. The clock ticks onward. 8:44. Margery peaks down the railway where the train should be appearing in the distance. She sees nothing. Probably running late as trains tend to do. 

8:45, no train in sight. Soon it’s 8:50, and Margery grows frustrated. She doesn’t have time to spare. Roger, although calm in appearance, is aware of his surroundings. Other passengers grow irritated, and low grumbles are heard across the platform. 

A policeman walks through the station onto the platform, slightly pudgy, with a large mustache. “Sorry folks, all trains are canceled until further notice.” Exasperated sighs and complaints respond. Margery hangs her head in defeat. She turns to leave the station, mapping out in her head the next plan of action. As other would-be passengers begin to file out, she notices Roger hasn’t moved, he’s waiting for something. The policeman guides civilians out as Margery blends into the crowd but takes a sharp turn to lean against the wall inside the train station. She presses her back to the wall and waits, ears turned to the open arch leading onto the platform. 

Soon it is just the soldier and the policeman left, and Margery listening in. 

“Lieutenant-General.”

“Anything I can assist in.”

“Never you worry. An issue with the line.”

“I see.”

“I suggest you head on home.”

“The 7:30 train to Southampton.”

“What of it.”

“Did it make it to its destination.” This isn’t a question.

“Why do you ask.”

“Officer Roger Stewart, with the 1st.”

“Special Service Force.”

“The very same.”

“The Devil’s Brigade. You’re far away from home.”

“Indeed. I was sent home with members of my unit to investigate suspicious activity.”

“Well-”

“The 7:30 train didn’t make it to Southampton, did it.”

“I am not at liberty to-”

“So it didn’t.”

“Now where exactly did you gather-”

“Was it them?”

A pause. “Yes. They believe it to be. We were also warned.”

“Of course.”

“Now you did not hear this from me.”

“Of course. I’m sure we both understand the need for discretion.”

“What will you do?”

“Report back to my team. The mission was a failure.”

“Failure?”

“We were told the attack would be on the 8:45 train. We were wrong.” Roger lowers his head in shame but keeps his composure. Now is no time for self-doubt, there is still more to come. Onto the next.

“God rest their souls.”

“Indeed.” Roger moves to leave the platform. “Goodnight.” The policeman nods. Roger walks through the door into the station. 

Margery has not moved from her spot. She can’t, she is frozen. She watches his back as he leaves the station. He exits through the door onto the street and turns right, walking past the open window where he stops for a moment, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes. He is obviously distraught. Looking up he turns his head to look back through the window, where he meets Margery's terror-ridden eyes. He sighs and turns back to go back into the station. Margery is stuck to the wall as if trapped there. 

Walking through the door, he stops to look at her. 

“Are you going to kill me?” She whispers. 

“Why would you think that.” There is an air of defeat in his tone. 

“I imagine I was not supposed to hear that.”

“No, you were not.”

“What happened.”

He pauses, she already knows this much, no point acting coy is there?

“Enemy attack.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why?”

He chuckles. “Why do you think?”

“The people on that train. They were normal people.”

“Yes.”

“With families, and loved ones. They played no part in this.”

“That’s war.”

“I should have been on that train.”

“As should I.”

“I should be dead.” She says with a tremble.

“As should I.”

“How many people?”

“I find that is not helpful in times like these.”

“You knew you would die today.”

“Probably. Maybe, Who knows what would have happened.”

“I would never have guessed.”

“When you’ve been around death enough you no longer fear it. You would have realized that soon enough.”

“What now.”

“You go home, call whoever you need to call, and take the next train that runs.”

“I don’t know if I can.” Although the war was all that surrounded her, she never experienced it firsthand, all she knew was shaking walls and sirens from above from the underground bomb shelter. 

“Do you have family?”

“A sister.”

“Go to her. Have discretion. Hold her close.”

“Who will you go to?”

He can’t help at smile at her naivety to it all. He forgets this life isn’t universal. There is innocence in the world still. A glimmer of light is left in this existence that gives him some hope when this all is done. 

“Don’t you worry about that.”

After what feels like hours, she peels her back from the wall. Unsure what to do with herself, she takes a moment to gather herself before bending over to pick up her suitcase. Like someone who has been at sea for too long, she wobbles forward. 

“You’ll be alright Margery, have a cup of tea when you get home.” She walks towards him, and to both their surprise, embraces him. Stunned, he gently holds her. 

“Thank you.”

“All in a day's work.” He says with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Where do you live?”

“Down the road, 20 minutes.” 

“Let me make sure you get home.”

She nods, and he takes her suitcase from her, and guides her out of the stations, they turn right and walk down the empty, dimly lit side street side by side. 

“If you live 20 minutes away, how on earth did you miss that train?” He asks in a cheeky tone.

She chuckles “Well, it’s a long story.”

“We have 20 minutes.” He smiles at her. She looks up to meet his eyes and smiles back at him. 

She feels safe for a moment. So does he.