The Train, Sarah Bourne [dark books to read .txt] 📗

At Bank Station he changed from the Docklands Light Railway to the Tube and sat staring at the adverts without seeing them until he got off at Euston. He’d just missed the ten o’clock train, and now they were all slow, stopping at every station. He sighed. Nothing was going his way.

He heard himself, thinking the thoughts of a man defeated by life, and took a deep breath. That wasn’t who he was. He had survived the bullying of his brothers, the death of his wife, the departure of his daughter. He was still alive, still healthy, still able to make choices. But he had behaved badly at Felice’s and was ashamed. He would have to do better in future.

He pulled his phone out to text her and saw a notification from the MK Citizen, the local online news. He opened the app and scrolled down the list of headlines. And there it was.

Local woman dies in tragic circumstances.

He read on, intrigued to know more.

Judith Strasser, 43, of Stoke Hammond, took her own life today. Estate Agent and tireless fundraiser for an animal sanctuary in the local area, she will be missed by family, friends and colleagues.

Trevor bit his lips. Here she was, the woman who killed herself in front of the train. It had to be her, he knew the name – she had briefly joined the cycling club a few years back. Quiet woman. Frostie had thought she was lonely and made an effort to get to know her but she was very shy, didn’t mix much and soon she stopped coming.

He took some deep, steadying breaths. He hadn’t known Judith Strasser more than to nod a greeting to, or make small talk about the weather or the route they were cycling but he felt a sense of loss nonetheless. She had been a living person who had been sad or desperate enough to end her own life. What a terrible thing.

Walking towards the platform, he wondered what had prompted her to throw herself in front of the train that morning. Had she had a big heart that had broken? Life was so precious, and yet for some, so precarious. He wondered how her parents were coping. How did anyone cope with news like that? One minute you have a daughter, the next, she’s gone, and in such a terrible way. No time to say goodbye, I’m sorry, I love you. No chance to put back the clock and make things right.

And he thought about his own daughter who was alive and happy. He loved her and was going do whatever was necessary to stay in her life. He wouldn’t let his feelings about this Liam boy get in the way of his relationship with his daughter and any possible children they might have. He wanted to be the kind of granddad who had his grandkids for the weekend and took them on adventures, taught them to ride a bike, catch tadpoles, eat fish and chips in front of the telly. Because Frostie’s parents had never really accepted him they’d never had the closeness with Felice they would have enjoyed. It saddened him to think of it now, the wasted opportunity for all of them. And Trevor’s family hadn’t been involved in Felice’s life either, but for different reasons. They didn’t care that he had married a white woman, they just didn’t care, full stop.

He sat on a bench, pulled out his phone and wrote a text.

So sorry for appalling behaviour this evening. Blame it on your old dad being jealous. Liam seems a nice boy. I’m sure we’ll get on fine. I love you xxx

He hit send and sat watching the screen, willing it to light up with a response from his daughter.

With his spirits sinking, he boarded the train and found a seat in the surprisingly full carriage. Who’d have thought so many people were still out after ten on a weeknight?

Trevor set himself a goal: by the time the train reached Milton Keynes he would have a plan for the rest of his life. Or if not the rest of his life, because that was quite a big task, at least the first step on the way. Felice was right; he couldn’t sit around waiting for life to happen to him, he had to do things to invite opportunities.

He stared out the window as London slipped by, lit by street lamps, car headlights, shop signs.

Number one, he was going to rejoin the cycle club. He hadn’t been since Frostie got ill – time with her was too precious to go cycling, even though she encouraged him to continue. And after she’d died, he didn’t want to have to talk to anyone about it so he’d avoided everyone who knew her.

Number two, he would go to the staff drinks on Fridays after school.

Number three, he’d sort out the allotment. He and Frostie used to love spending time there, growing vegetables, pottering about in the shed, ‘Frostie’s Castle’ as he called it. Since she’d been gone he’d neglected it but perhaps it was time to go back. He’d been putting it off for far too long.

Number four –

He knew Felice wanted him to find a nice woman to go out with. She’d suggested online dating but Trevor knew he wouldn’t do that. Was he ready to meet someone else? He remembered the feeling he’d had earlier when he saw Felice and Liam looking at each other. He wanted that. Frostie had made him promise he would find someone else. Until now, the idea had made him immeasurably sad because if he fell in love with another woman it would mean he had finally accepted she had gone. But perhaps it was time to let go, or try at least.

He sighed and looked up. A Chinese woman was sitting across the aisle, looking out the window, chin in her hand. She looked sad but not as sad as the