Chapter Sixteen
Convergence Day
A couple of slices of toast should do. Michael was not absolutely convinced that a Lebanese breakfast would do the trick for him, was not absolutely convinced he knew what a Lebanese breakfast consisted of although he hazarded a guess it would be sweet and involve labneh, olives, mankoushi, pitta bread and hummus. The toast with its inch of butter and jam would see him through until then. For a change he was up early, not that it negated in any way the risk of him being late, it was more likely to heighten it. It often did.
Meanwhile...
...over in Manchuria Road, Judy was also up early and was debating with herself whether to have a third cup of coffee. She did have a routine for breakfast which she had more or less adhered to since renting her flat some three years back. Porridge, two coffees and fruit. Simple yet effective nutritionally. Invariably, she left the flat at exactly the same time each day, leaving ample time for her journey to Chessington. Invariably she was late.
Meanwhile...
...over in Canford Road, Michael was filling his man-bag with the essentials for the day; notebook, pens, pencils and a book for the train. The Laylii Lounge was only five minutes’ walk from Waterloo station and was reported to be doing a roaring trade with early morning commuters, probably none of whom had fortified themselves with toast and jam.
Meanwhile...
...over in Manchuria Road, Judy was gathering her things together; two textbooks, assorted pens, timetables and a wreath of garlic to ward off Miss Roseberry. The bag she normally used (a present from an admirer who picked it up cheap in Huddersfield) was not quite up to it, so it was back to an old favourite with extra capacity, but a dodgy strap (a present from another admirer, the bag not the dodgy strap). She drained the rest of her third coffee and set off for Clapham Junction station.
Meanwhile...
...making his way to Platform 11, Michael paused to buy a take-away coffee. The coffee was in a stay-hot Styrofoam beaker which invariably was far too hot to even attempt to drink it before Waterloo South. He took up his position on the platform, next to the fire extinguisher and...waited.
Judy, entering the station briefly, wondered whether she had time to reach the toilet before her train was due, that third cup of coffee now seemed not her best idea of the day. The argument was won by the train for now and she made her way to Platform 17 where she took up her usual position, next to the newspaper vendor...and waited.
Change of platform. Michael now had to make his way to Platform 17. Judy’s train to Chessington was now departing from Platform 10, news her bladder could have done without. Michael hurried to the top of the steps which gave access to Platform 17, or as hurriedly as his dodgy knees allowed, and turning to his left onto the platform he met with someone dashing as hurriedly as he albeit with a different destination. Their bags entwined. They entwined. Their fall was far from graceful.
“I’m so sorry,” said Michael, whose coffee had now vacated the Styrofoam mug onto his jacket.
“No, no it was my fault entirely.”
“Nothing is ever a lady’s fault,” replied Michael, using a line he had heard in a movie he had seen on TV recently which he particularly liked.[31]
“Let me buy you a coffee at least,” offered Judy.
The Lebanese breakfast had momentarily been forgotten for Michael had an unaccountable feeling that this coffee could turn out to be the most important one he would ever have. Unfortunately, Judy’s bladder could not be forgotten. He said he would wait in the small coffee shop at the end of the platform. ‘Please come back,’ he thought, ‘please come back. She did.
He wasn’t really her type. She wasn’t really his type. They had virtually nothing in common. It would be pointless to ask her on a date, what would they talk about for heaven’s sake? A very pleasant interlude, but no point in seeing him again, what did they have in common for heaven’s sake?
They duly arranged to meet at the Bread and Roses that very evening. Which they did, as we know.
31 The Go Between.