Jamie stood shivering as he awaited her arrival.
“The train from Manchester Piccadilly is delayed. It is expected to arrive in twenty three minutes on platform 7B. We are very sorry for any inconvenience caused.”
His nerves seemed to wobble more at this announcement which was given in such a mundane and unapologetic manner. The usual excitement was also present but currently nerves took over.
He tried to notice things to sway his focus from the bitterly cold air but his teeth continued to chatter. A couple to his left greeted one another with a simple peck on the cheek and an unenthusiastic hello which indicated to him that they had been married far too long.
Some children were running to get a train, fretting in their own chaos. They had probably never been left to their own devices until now, he thought. Bless them.
Two guards were stood chatting to the side, not doing much signalling. One had a litter picker in his right hand but he was more using it for the gestures that accompanied his story rather than picking up rubbish.
As he glanced around he saw many happy couples together, perhaps travelling to relatives, travelling home, heading into work or possibly out for the day, but they would all have their own story. None would be as private as his. He was sure of it.
Fifteen minutes had passed when he saw the lights of the approaching carriages, hoping that it would be the one and looking to his fingertips to see if they had begun to turn blue.
The train edged towards the platform until it came to a halt and he tried very hard not to cheer. Finally.
Among a mass of people exiting the doors, it was hard to spot her. Most looked disheveled from obviously a stressful journey south. Some looked furious and he wondered why they had stuck at it and not given up.
Butterflies began to outdo the nerves as he waited while racking his brains for a decent bar to start their time together. He always lover their time together though it wasn’t very often these days.
A couple barged him out of the way rushing to catch their connection that they would have had masses of time to catch if it wasn’t for the delay.
“Sorry mate,” the man said in a friendly manner, while the wife dragged him in the right direction huffing as they went by.
He looked to his side and caught eyes with an elderly man, obviously waiting for somebody as well and waiting more patiently than most people on the platform. He smiled at him and the man smiled warmly back.
As his eyes returned to the focus of the door he saw her. There she was in her neat blonde glory, stood with her bag in one hand and her opened purse in the other, the photograph of her children almost falling out with a photo of her husband tucked behind it.