The train station was deserted. Low in the morning sky, the sun was casting a pink glow over the moors, as a light mist settled on the ground. The stationmaster glanced up and down the platform, his eyes resting on the lone figure seated at the far end.
She looks sad, he thought. He felt a protective desire to comfort her somehow; however, it was not his place. Reluctantly, he turned and entered the train station. There was work to be done and the northbound train from London was due any minute.
Jenny unconsciously twirled her long scarf through her fingers. Her mind was miles away. Was she doing the right thing? Edinburgh was such a long way from home and she wouldn't know a soul. There was still time to pick up her old, worn suitcase and go back to the house. Wrestling with her decision, she heard her mother's voice, like a faint whisper on the wind. It was quiet, almost a murmur, but she knew it was her. “Go, girl. Life will never bring you what you want if you don't go and find it. You deserve some happiness.” She tilted her head, as if to lean closer to someone.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the train whistle. “Northbound train to Edinburgh,” shouted the stationmaster. “Prepare for boarding,” he shouted, as if the platform were full of people and Jenny grinned at his sense of longstanding tradition. You are right, Mother; nothing will ever change in this town. I must go.
The stationmaster returned her smile, thinking how much more attractive she looked when she smiled, as she moved toward him. “Going somewhere for a short holiday, Miss?”
“Actually, I am traveling to Edinburgh to take up my new position. I am to be the assistant to the City Clerk.” She raised her head proudly. Jenny had been very happy the day the letter of acceptance came. It was a very prestigious position, one that she would do her very best to keep.
“That sounds lovely, I wish you well. Here comes the train, so step back, please.” He lifted her suitcase, noticing that it was not very heavy. “Other bags coming later?” She blushed a deep pink.
“I am afraid there was not much to pack.” The trainmaster turned away, embarrassed at his blunder. Loudly the train came to a halt with an ear-piercing screech.
A cloud of black soot descended on the station and a conductor appeared in the doorway of the train, dropping the steps in place. Formally, he stood to the side. “All aboard, that's going aboard.” Again, Jenny was reminded of tradition and the never changing world that she had grown up in. She smiled at the trainmaster. Taking a deep breath, Jenny looked back up over the roof of the train station, to the town perched on the hill. The old church steeple glowed in the rising sun. Rooftops blackened from years of railway soot and shops and houses filled with people, ready to live another day just like the one before, all stood as they had for decades. The milk wagon clanked and rattled its way over the cobbles, moving slowly from door to door. She closed her eyes, trying to capture the scene one last time. Goodbye old friends. Lifting her long skirt and placing her worn but polished boot carefully on the step, she boarded the train.
Moving carefully down the aisle, Jenny chose a seat with a window facing the station. Adjusting her scarf, she held it up to her nose allowing the scent of roses to fill her with memories of her mother. The lovely silk threads sparingly added by her mother's hands, shone in the sunlight that filtered through the window. She could still hear her mother's voice, “Now you must keep this scarf for a special occasion, Jenny. The silk threads are very expensive, and I was lucky to get them from Lady Watsworth.” Jenny looked pensively through the window as the train pulled away from the station. Mother, this scarf is very precious; I thank you. How fitting that I wear it on the most important day of my life. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she self consciously, wiped it away.
The village disappeared far behind the train. In the distance, Jenny could see the towering Watsworth mansion lording over the village. Her mother had spent more than fifty years working there, day after day, until the day she died. That is not going to happen to me. Soon, it too was out of sight.
She leaned back into the comfortable seat. Memories drifted in and out of her mind as the train chugged down the tracks, away from the only life she had known. She remembered when she nearly drowned at age six, and Tim McKitterek pulled her from the pond. That was the day she knew she would marry him. Jenny revisited all of the fun and joy she had felt as a child in the northern England town, always accompanied by her best friend, Tim. She grew up loving Tim. Perhaps it was a childish love, but Tim would always have her heart. Jenny had spent many hours planning their future, but life had a way of interfering with dreams. Tim's father left mysteriously one morning, and Tim was now the sole support for the family. Suddenly all of the fun was gone. Fate had dealt them a blow that changed their lives and their dreams, and Tim would never leave Watsworth as the two of them had dreamt, and talked about. The conversations had grown short as Tim faced up to his responsibilities. Jenny had watched him walk into the mine every day, hoping that she would see a sign of “the old Tim,” but soon she realized, it was over. It was up to her to live the dream alone. She would miss him terribly, but Jenny was not letting go of her future. It was really happening; she could hardly believe it. At twenty-years-old, Jenny Barstow was leaving for good. A smile crossed her lips; her eyes sparkled with excitement. Now my life begins.