A Romance

by Milverton Hyde

Rain dripped off splintered wood, steam drifted along the cutting, and the men’s boots crunched on the soot-covered gravel.

“When did this happen, George?”

“Don’t know mate, but according to the Gov’nor must have been before seven this evening.”

“How’d he know that?”

“Coz it didn’t arrive mate, that’s how.”

“Oh I see, what time should it have got in then?”

“It’s the 7:35 evening one, or it was.”

Shouts rose from further up in the darkness.

“Got another here, bring some planks, strong ones, and be careful where you tread, you don’t want to squash nobody underfoot!”

Men, and even a few local women, trod over the twisted mess towards the voices, lights bobbing along as their step brought them closer to the area; torches, lanterns, and even candles in jars had been utilised to try to bring a gleam of hope to this jumble of chaos, broken glass, wood, steel and human remains.

“George?”

“What now?”

“I didn’t think as they was using this bit anymore.”

“They wasn’t, they’ve not done for years, just the odd truck in case the troops ever needed to be here again.”

“So what’s it doing here now?”

“Looking up the price of peas I expect! How should I bloody well know!”

The man at the head of the beams of light stood and wiped the soot from his forehead. He shook his head. “Another dead ’un, great bit of metal through the ribs, wouldn’t have stood a chance, best pull her free and get what’s left down to the lane.”

“What about the other services?” the small man asked his mate George.

“They will have to be stopped, or diverted, I expect.”

***

Constance McGregor stroked the oblong cardboard box. It was tied with string and was tissue filled; a pure extravagance lay within, white and crisp, a soft falling of snow like pearls dancing over the tulle and a fine muslin under-dress. She was going to look like a girl from the films as she walked down the aisle of Saint Barnabas. Her mother would frown, but when she saw it on she would melt, all the silent stars were wearing this style now.

The train slowed down and Constance could smell the heat of the brakes. The carriage lights dimmed and then all was still. A door opened, and a woman stepped up into the corridor from the platform.

“She looks a bit of a mess, needs to go to town and have that hair done I think. We don’t usually stop here, though!”

Constance’s thoughts took on to the darkness of the station and how lovely it would be to live in the centre of a modern and thriving town, but her trail of dreams was broken as the door to her compartment slid open, and the woman announced to the three occupants,

“I am so sorry to bother you, but there has been a problem on this line and it seems that everyone has to get off this train and wait for another one. If you would be so kind as to follow me I will take you to the waiting room. It is just along the platform, and I know that there will be a fire and possibly a hot cup of tea too if we are in luck; always a shock how cold it can become at this time, especially when you have to break a journey so suddenly.”

“Thank you.” Constance followed the messenger along the carpeted passage and down the steps on to the platform. She noticed that the woman with the unkempt hair was wearing a strikingly good set of country tweeds. Must have money! she thought.

“In there, through those doors, soon have you all sorted, this mist will always be bound to make one shiver at first, in you go. Well done, must just see if my helpers have got the rest of you who are coming. In you all go that’s right, soon have you sorted and yes! There is tea.”

It had got cold, a wet summer so an early winter. Constance rebalanced her parcel as she entered the waiting room. She turned to the man beside her as he said, “This could give some of the other train companies a run for their money, seldom do we see a good fire in the waiting room at Haybarn and I must say never is there any form of refreshment room there, not now anyway; was in the 1890’s of course, everything was like this then, knew where you stood.”

“I didn’t see the name of this station as we came through, it was so dark outside, they must still have the windows blacked.” Constance looked above the fireplace at the embossed mirror; the name of their temporary stop was etched into it with the livery of the train company. “Oh, ‘Narrow House’. Trains never stop here I thought, or not often anyway, fancy having such a lovely building and hardly anyone to use it.”

The tweed clad woman entered the waiting room, and several people followed in her wake. Somehow she seemed to be in charge. Constance wondered how and why this woman had taken control; maybe she was the lady of the local manor and these things came naturally to her; probably had the entire village knitting socks for the troops in France. This would be something to tell Freddy about. She would write to him as soon as she got home.

“Please do help yourselves to tea. A train will be ready for you all very soon, but until then do try to get warm and dry.”

“Heavens I am wet, I had not noticed!” exclaimed Constance to her standing companion. “It must have been that mist on the platform. I hope my parcel is unscathed, it is my wedding dress. All being well, my fiancé Freddy will be back from the front next week and we will be married at Saint Barnabas.”

“Did I hear of a wedding? Oh my dear how delightful, is he a local boy?” The tweed woman had paused and overheard. “Anyone we may know?”

“Frederick Morris-Baker, his family live in Willow Bridge. We met on this line before he was called up last Christmas. The trains were late because of the snow and we just got talking and before we knew where we were we were walking out together, all quite romantic really.”

“Morris-Baker? Probably knew the grandparents, seems a familiar name to me, lovely, I do so love a romantic story. But get some tea before it runs cold! Mabel, pour this girl a cup, go on dear, go and get it!”

Constance took the offered cup from the woman behind the counter; this woman in charge must have rallied the entire neighbourhood to help.

***

“Get me some lights down this end, I think we might have another person here, might be another living one, too many bleeding stiffs so far.”

“That’s good George, very funny, bleeding stiffs!”

“It wasn’t supposed to be funny, mate!”

“I think they are sending another train up the other track through one of the sidings, get the survivors to the town and the injured to the hospital.”

“Good, this will take a week to clear; bloody war will be over before this one’s opens again.”

“Wot dun it George, do you reckon?”

“Bloody great bomb I shouldn’t wonder.”

“They is serving cups of tea at the old station.”

“Get us a cup then, mate!”

***

The tweed lady, as she was now called in Constance’s mind, was talking to the young woman behind the tea and refreshment counter. “So good of you to do all this at such short notice. I am really very proud of you for coming, after all you not being so readily found like most of the others. But we have put up a good welcome I think, not often we get to greet a crowd, you must find this too, just the few people passing through, ones and the odd couples, possibly a little family, but to have a train full already, I think, Mabel, we have done well!”

Mabel Larch looked to her baby in the small cot beneath the trestle.” Just like old times, really.”

The tweed lady clapped her hands together. ”Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. A special train has been laid on for the final part of your journey, please remember to take any belongings with you that have survived so far, as I fear that if you leave them here we may not be able to retrieve them at a later date. The train is already quite full as we have had to make collections at previous venues before here.”

People began to move towards the side door of the waiting room which led out to a lesser platform.

“Ah, young lady!” It was the tweed woman. “I have found a friend of yours, knew that name was familiar, and did I not say I like romantic stories?”

“Freddy? What are you doing here, I thought you were in France! I was just going to write you a letter about all this and you are here! How?”

Freddy smiled from one dimpled cheek to the other. “We got put on a troop train, but the line was blocked and somehow we got on to a replacement and ended up on this line.”

“But from where, Freddy?”

“Well, France of course!”

“Please board the train on platform two, Ladies and Gentlemen, now hurry along, thank you.” The tweed lady gave Constance and Freddy a polite push. “Show him the dress, dear.”

“Oh I couldn’t, it would be unlucky!”

“Go on with you, times have changed, show him!”

“Oh, Freddy, it is a wedding dress, for us, well me to wear for us, you shouldn’t see it really, not really, but I suppose we are in modern times now.”

Constance opened the box at one end.

“Oh, Freddy, I have got the wrong one! How could that have happened? This is not the one I saw in the shop.” Little red flowers decorated the folds of each hem and small red poppies had replaced the pearls. “Oh Freddy, what can have happened?”

“It looks just fine to me Connie, very pretty.”

***

“Bert, there is a box down here by this one, shine the torch and keep it bloody well still, another for the undertaker.”

“That’s sad, George, looks like a wedding dress! Covered in her blood though look.”

“Bert, I hate this war, I do really.”

“No one loves it, George.”

“Those bloody politicians do, Bert, they bloody do.”

***

The train pulled away from the station. The tweed-clad woman and her helpers stood and watched it vanish.

“How long will it take them to realise they are on their final journey?” Mabel looked across at the now empty waiting room, the empty grate and the dusty cups.
“When did you know you had died, Mabel?”

“I think it took a day or two to sink in.”

“I suppose when they realise that the train hasn’t stopped at the next station.”

“So is it back to our graves now?”

“Until another welcoming committee is needed, yes, ladies. Oh, and thank you all.”

*********************************