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Banford Station

Christopher Porter

    He watched the train come into the station, little flashes of blue electricity snapping on the overhead wires as it hissed to a stop. He waited for passengers to get off before he swung himself up the step and entered the car. It was early evening and he was tired, it had been a long day already. He shook his wet coat in the aisle before selecting a seat, then tucked it in the overhead slot and sat next to the window. He looked at the station lights, deep haloed orange, until they passed into the outskirts of town, under a bridge picking up speed and then the last houses gave way to fields and neat parcels of forest. Rain was streaking across the window, shivers of wet trails that pooled, then formed little rivers at the edge of the glass.
    He stretched his legs before opening the newspaper and placing it on his lap. The paper he had no intention of reading, preferring instead to stare unfocused on the passing landscape, one he knew well.
    A woman slid into the seat next to him. She was breathing hard and seemed anxious.
    “You don’t mind, do you? There is a man back there and he has been bothering me. He frightened me.” The man turned to look behind him, but the woman grabbed his chin and and directed him to look at her.
    “Don’t look back, please. Just pretend we are a couple. Lovers on the evening train.” She smiled, then looked out the window.
    He couldn’t help but notice that the woman was quite beautiful, her long brown hair framed her face in such a way that it reminded him of a living portrait. He sat back and tried to relax but found himself folding and unfolding the newspaper on his lap.
    “I’m Claire. I’m sorry to barge in on you. I know how nice it is to get two open seats.” She laughed and he saw her eyes brighten. She looked even more attractive when she smiled.
    They talked for a while, a pleasant rambling conversation. He was surprised to hear himself telling her stories from his childhood. He rarely talked about anything personal. She closed her eyes, the steady rhythmic motion of the train seemed to make her drowsy. Her head moved to his shoulder and her arm fell to his leg. She smelled wonderful and he sat still, not wanting to disturb her rest. What he really wanted was to wrap her up in a hug, but he was not that sort of man.
    The train slowed as they entered Banford station. The change of movement woke her and she reached across him, her hand pushing against his chest until she rose to a sitting position. She yawned and looked into his eyes before standing up.
    “This is me. Again, thank you for helping. You are a true gentleman.” She kissed him quickly on his cheek and rose to leave. He watched her walk to the door then saw her standing on the platform. She waved to him and blew him a kiss, then turned and went into the station house. He turned his attention back to the paper on his lap. The last passengers wandered down the aisle to choose seats and the train lurched as it pulled out of the station. He rolled his wrist to check the time on his watch, but his watch was gone. Then he felt in his pockets for his cell phone and wallet. Everything was gone. He pictured the woman who sat beside him before reaching into his boot for his other phone.
    “Mills here. Can you patch me through to the duty seargent?” While he waited for his call to go through, he wondered how the woman would react when she opened the wallet and found the neat stack of cut paper bingo forms.
    “Hey Gerald. She got off at Banford station. Five foot ten, long brown hair, attractive. She has my cell so you can trace that. Cheers. I’ll circle back.”
    He leaned back and watched the streets flash by, car lights splintered by the rain.

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