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AS HOPED, THE TICKET office had a small kitchen attached, and flicking on the lights, it looked like an Aladdin’s cave. Finding the kettle, I filled it with water and packed an empty box with mugs, tea bags, milk, and a jar of coffee granules. Ewan found two packages of biscuits in a cupboard and added those to bounty before he wandered back to the office.
“There’s an old computer,” he commented, sliding into the worn seat. He switched the dilapidated machine on, and it whirred into life beside him, groaning as it started to load. “Maybe it will be useful.”
“There’s a phone as well,” I told him, signaling to the old-fashioned handset as I carried the box into the main room.
“Good spot,” he praised, reaching for my hand as I placed the box down. “Strange though that the equipment here is so outdated when the waiting room has a defibrillator.”
“Maybe.” I didn’t know what to say. “Welcome to privatized rail. There’s money for fancy trains, but no station upgrades.”
“But the defibrillator?” Spinning in the seat, he looked at me.
“Was probably paid for by local donations.” I shrugged, thinking of the village Laurel and I had recently moved to. I’d learned that the community there had fundraised to buy the same equipment. “That’s pretty standard in rural locations.”
“Are you okay?” Leaning forward, his fingers tightened around mine. “You sound tired.”
How right he was. I was weary—of the fog, of the fear—of all of it.
“I’m okay,” I reassured him, not wanting to tarnish the visceral connection developing between us. Ewan was helping to keep me sane until I could get to Laurel. “But I’ll need a hand with the kettle. It’s full.”
“Is that why you brought me along?” His tone was playful.
“Yes. I knew there’d be too much to carry on my own.”
“At your service, Ma’am.” Feigning a salute, he rose from the seat, but as he headed to the kitchen, a shrill tone rang from my pocket. “That sounds like my phone.”
Of course. I’d kept it while he worked on Old Tom and hadn’t thought to return it.
“I’m sorry.” Flustered, I pulled it free and handed it to him. “I forgot to give it back.”
“I forgive you,” he replied, but his attention was already on the screen, his brows knitting as he read the incoming message. “It’s from the emergency services. We’re fourth in line.”
“Fourth?” That sounded like an insult considering Tom was already dead. “We don’t need them anymore. Can you cancel it?”
“There’s no way to reply.” He sighed. “It’s probably automated.”
“Great.”
“Maybe they’ll call nearer to the time.” Ewan shrugged. “We can let them know then, but we still need someone to take Tom’s body away.”
“True.” I hadn’t thought of that. It certainly wasn’t ideal sharing the waiting room with his corpse. Turning to the small window, I looked for any sign that the mist might be clearing. “How long do you think this will last?”
“Bored of me already, huh?” he joked, caressing my shoulder.
“No,” I replied, offering him a smile as he slipped his phone away. “It’s just... “
“What?”
“Well, there’s still a world out there and I have to get home to my daughter.” Swallowing back the rising trepidation, I met his gaze. “Do you have children?”
“No.” He shook his head. “There’s no one, but if I can help get you back to your girl, then I will.”
“Thank you.” Acting on impulse, I moved closer and enveloped him in a hug. The aroma of his cologne filled my nostrils, heightening my growing desire. “You’ve made this whole ordeal so much easier to bear, and I appreciate it.”
“I was thinking the same.”
Cradling the back of my head in his large palm, he swooped, claiming my mouth. For the second time that day, I melted into his touch, frantic to lose myself in his mystique. There was no way of knowing what the future held, how long the fog would last, and what the fallout would be, but we had that moment, that blissful passion. I would never be content until I was back with Laurel, but there was no denying it. Ewan was something of a savior.
“We should get back,” I murmured as the caress ceded. “The others will be waiting.”
“Trying to run away from me?” His smile expressed how much he relished toying with me.
“Never,” I whispered. “I promise.”
“Come on then.” Resting his forehead gently against mine, he looked good enough to eat. “I’ll grab the kettle.”
I watched his perfect-looking ass disappear into the kitchen, turning to grab my phone from the counter. Beside it, the old computer was still rattling into life, its screen casting an ethereal illumination into the small space. I cast an eye over its progress, unsure what all the codes meant, and unclear how it would help us.
“Anything else we need?” Ewan called from the other room.
“I don’t think so, but feel free to check,” I said, glancing back to enjoy another gratuitous shot of his backside. Unfortunately for me, he’d already moved too far inside. Disappointed, I turned back to the window.
Adjusting to the never-ending murk of the mist, my eyes noticed something out there; a distinct shape that cut through the cloud.
“Ewan.” I called his name, but there was no conviction in the demand, my voice barely a squeak as I remained rooted to the spot, hypnotized by what I thought I’d seen.
Leaning closer over the counter, I forced myself to keep looking. If there was someone outside, they’d need help. Maybe it was the paramedics earlier than expected. Perhaps someone who could help us.
Staring at the fogged pane, I held my breath as the outline neared the window. It took a couple of seconds for my brain to register what I was seeing. A face pressed against the glass. Dark, unyielding eyes that glared into the office.
Sam.
His grimace was unmistakable. I’d seen it a hundred times before.
“No.” Heart hammering, I stumbled back and turned away, repulsed by Sam’s ugly sneer. “No, it can’t be.”
“What?” Ewan hollered.
“Ewan!” I screamed his name, the volume sending him dashing to find me, but by the time I glanced back to the window, Sam’s face was gone.
“What’s wrong?” Ewan’s eyes flashed with concern.
“I saw someone.” Pointing to the window, I could scarcely even get the words out. “Outside.”
Brow creasing, he moved toward the pane. “From the waiting room, you mean?”
“No.” My heart was beating so fast I couldn’t catch my breath. “A man.”
“A man?”
He turned back to me as if I was insane, and I couldn’t even say for sure that I wasn’t. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen Sam in the haze, but I couldn’t believe he was really out there, prowling in the fog. I knew where Sam was, and it was far away from where we were.
“Yes.” Clutching my chest, I fell onto the seat, sensing if I didn’t sit down, I might fall.
“I’ll go and check it out.” Ewan moved toward the door.
“No, please!” I implored, catching his wrist as he stalked past. “Don’t go out there.”
“Someone might need our help.” Trust Ewan to rush to the kind conclusion.
“I don’t think they’re looking for help.”
Pulling in an uncertain breath, I recalled the look on Sam’s face, his gnarled nose and cracked skin, and I shuddered at the recollection. Whichever way it went, I was bound to lose. Either Sam was genuinely out there, in which case we were all in danger. Or I was hallucinating his presence with recurring visions, and goodness only knew what that meant for my mental stability. I didn’t know which scenario sounded worse.
“What do you mean?” Hesitating, Ewan checked the window again before falling to his haunches before me. Clasping my knee, he stroked it gently as he spoke. “Tell me what you saw, Em.”
“It’s difficult to explain.” Make that damn near impossible.
“Try.” His tone was insistent. “Please.”
“It looked like a man,” I began.
“Yes. You said.”
“A man I used to know.” I spat out the words, regretting them immediately.
“What man?”
“An ex.” I sounded crazy. “A man who has reason to hate me. To want to hurt me.”
“No one is going to hurt you.”
His voice had such resolve that, for a moment, I believed him. I thought this virtual stranger who knew nothing about me cared enough to play protector. But that was poppycock. Hadn’t I been around the block enough times to know how things worked? There were no real heroes. Only good men like Ewan and men who enjoyed inflicting harm on others. Like Sam.
“If someone was out there, we’d have heard them.” His green eyes appealed to me. “They’d be right outside the door, or they’d have burst in.”
Glancing toward the door, I tensed, half expecting Ewan’s prophecy to come true. That was what life with Sam had been like—my every nightmare unfurled into reality.
“Maybe you’re just overtired and stressed,” he suggested diplomatically. “It’s been one hell of a day, and you did fall earlier, remember? You could have hit your head.”
“I know I sound mad.” Reaching for his hand, I shook my head. “But I swear I saw him... ”
“It’s okay,” he soothed, leaning forward and kissing my hand. “Once this is over and you’re back with your daughter, we’ll make sure you see a neurologist.”
Once this is over...
Ewan made life sound so straightforward, as though there was no doubt we’d get out of there and he’d ensure I was okay, but for the first time in a long time, I had no appetite to fight. If I had to choose, then I chose his way. I wanted him to be right. Better I was losing my mind than forced to face an angry Sam in the midst of this crisis.
“Okay.” I even felt better as I met his eyes.
“Okay?” Tilting his head, he appraised me.
“Yes.”
“Are you okay with the box?” he asked, motioning to where I’d left it. “I’ll take the kettle and collect the wool where I left it.” He motioned to the door.
“What about the computer?”
He glanced its way, but the memory of Sam’s face ensured I didn’t follow suit. “Let’s leave it,” he answered. “We can come back later.”
Climbing to his feet, he pulled me upright and held me against his chest. “It is going to be okay, Emelia.”
Pressing my head onto his chest, I listened for the reassuring sound of his heartbeat and allowed it to anchor me. “You’re right,” I whispered as an image of my daughter appeared in my mind. “It is.”
It has to be.
Collecting what we needed, we headed for the door. With one hand free, Ewan wielded the torch on his phone but kept me close, shadowing me as we stared out into the gloom.
I didn’t like to think about the noises I heard on the platform. Didn’t allow my mind to dwell on the fear. Ewan was right because he simply had to be. There was no one lurking in the haze. The only secrets the fog would disperse to reveal were the expanse of an underused country platform and stories of the day the surprise shroud of smog fell over it. All other outcomes were unthinkable.
The End