I see a red light in the distance.
‘Tom. Tom! This is our train. Here it comes.’
The train pulls agonisingly slowly into the station, sliding to a stop an inch at a time.
Come on. Come on.
I rush to the doors, pressing the electronic entry button over and over again. The doors won’t open. Not until the driver releases the lock. I know that. But I keep pressing it anyway.
Open!
With a ding the button lights up and I bash it with such severity that the older woman behind me gasps. The train doors glide apart.
‘On you get, Tom. There’s a good boy.’ I load Tom onto the train, watching the car park, scanning the diamond fencing.
Then I see something.
Oh God. Olly’s camper van.
I’m always noticing camper vans, but this one is definitely Olly’s.
The train doors slide closed.
Very slowly, we ease along greased rails, pulling out of the station, rolling past the car park and into shrubby woodland.
I sit by the window, heart pounding. Then I motion Tom to sit beside me.
There’s one more stop in this town and then the train will pull away, fast into the night, through countryside, all the way to London.
‘Just sleep on me, okay, Tom?’ I smile at the fidgety, bald man opposite, and say: ‘This is quite an adventure for him.’
‘I’ll bet.’ The man smiles back.
The train rocks and rolls along the track.