Nesta looked up at the station indicator board, saw what platform the train for Casselton would leave from and made her way across the footbridge to where it was already waiting. She found her seat, a table seat in the corner of the carriage. Then she sat down and looked at the newspaper, carefully folding it so that the front page would not be visible.
Just before the train was about to leave, a plump, elderly lady with a large holdall took the seat opposite. Nesta kept her head down and pulled her hood over her brow. The woman put the holdall on the empty seat next to her and took out her knitting and a pattern for a man’s sweater.
‘As good a way as any of passing the time,’ she said, holding up the needles and smiling across at Nesta, who looked up cautiously, saw no real cause for alarm, and gave her fellow traveller a polite little smile. Then she found the crossword in the newspaper, took out her pen and began to work on the clues.
The ticket collector came past and very quickly checked their tickets, not looking at anything but the pieces of paper thrust at him. If the police are searching for me, thought Nesta, they aren’t searching very hard. When her hood fell back on to her shoulders she did not bother to pull it back into place.
The train soon left York and its environs behind it and was travelling through countryside. Nesta lost heart with the crossword. She looked out of the window at the bleak winter landscape. The day was turning a wishy-washy blue. Suddenly Nesta had tears running down her cheeks and her heart was saying, I want my mom.
‘Homesick already?’ said the old woman, looking at her over her knitting. ‘Those are homesick tears if ever I saw them. Want to talk?’
Nesta blushed and thought hard what to say. The truth was impossible. So it was necessary to think of a plausible lie.
‘I’m gong north to see my father,’ she said. ‘My parents are divorced. It’s his turn to have me this weekend.’
‘Divorce is a terrible business,’ said the woman ponderously. ‘It hurts everyone involved. But you’ll find in life that it is now always possible to avoid being hurt. People are always being faced with choices. The only thing to do, I think, is to bear the hurt and hope for better things. Your dad will be pleased to see you. After all, you aren’t divorced from either of your parents.’
‘No,’ said Nesta, but she found herself thinking, ah, but I am. I am divorced from both of them, and they are still married to each other.
She took out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes.
‘That’s better,’ said the woman. ‘Here, this might help.’
From the holdall she drew out a packet of crisps and a small bottle of orange juice. She pushed them across the table to Nesta.
‘I always come well prepared. You can’t depend on the trolley service these days.’
‘But you’ll want them for yourself,’ said Nesta.
The woman smiled a nice, jolly smile.
‘I’ve got plenty more if I do,’ she said, ‘but I am getting off at Darlington anyway. Not much further.’
Nesta sat back and ate the crisps, then drank the orange juice. When they reached Darlington, the woman got up from her seat, then bent over and gave Nesta a quick hug.
‘Life’s never as bad as it seems, love,’ she said. She left the carriage, struggling with the bulky holdall. Nesta thought, with adolescent cynicism, Little do you know, old woman, sometimes it’s worse!
After Darlington, Nesta had the table to herself. She rested her head on her arms and dozed. She was hardly aware when the train stopped at signals that had jammed, causing a delay of forty-five minutes. The train had been slow to leave York, slow on its journey north, and this further delay meant that it would not arrive at its destination till half-past one. Some passengers grumbled. Nesta just slept.
The next stop is Casselton Central Station. This train terminates there. Will passengers please make sure to take all of their luggage with them.
We shall be arriving at Casselton Central in five minutes. Passengers are reminded to check their luggage . . .
Thank you for travelling with GNER.
Nesta woke with a yawn as the train drew into the station. She looked with surprise at her watch. It was much later than she had expected. There were things she wanted to do in daylight. She left the train quickly and went straight to the station bookstall where she bought a street map of Casselton. The first thing to do was to find Hedley Crescent.
Before leaving the station, she did check on the times of trains running west to Belthorp and found, to her relief, that most of the Carlisle trains stopped there. At this rate she would be travelling at dusk, but that could not be helped. She would take no risks. She did not intend to go down any back alleys.