‘Nick?’
‘Yes?’ I turn to look at Matt.
‘Get out of the fucking car already.’ Matt grins at me.
I slide out of the car awkwardly and walk up the icy path towards her front door, almost falling on my arse at one point. I take a deep breath and knock.
I knock again.
‘Sarah?’ I yell. ‘It’s me, Nick. I need to talk to you.’
‘She’s gone away for Christmas, love.’
Startled, I look up and see an elderly woman leaning out of the window above. It must be Mrs Grainger.
‘Oh. When did she leave?’
‘About fifteen minutes ago. You just missed her.’
God bless intrusive neighbours. I thank her and run back to the car.
‘She left about fifteen minutes ago. I need to get to the station.’
‘Which one?’ he asks. ‘There are twelve major stations in London.’
‘I’m sure she once said that her parents live in Kemble. . .’
We both start quickly googling, though Matt is decidedly faster with two working hands.
‘Paddington!’ he declares. ‘Trains are every hour. Next one is in forty minutes. If we hurry, we’ll make it.’
Matt breaks at least three rules of the highway code en route, but he’s clearly determined to get me to the station, leaving me to buy an e-ticket to get through the barriers.
As we reach the drop-off point, Matt wishes me good luck as I sprint from the car, tucking Spot under my fully functional arm. I still have five minutes to spare but I need to find the right platform. By the time I get to the live departure boards, I’m completely red-faced and out of breath. Not the look I was going for.
My eyes scan the board until I see that the train is platform five, but when I get there, the platform is nearly empty and Sarah and Alfie are nowhere to be seen. They must already be inside.
With less than two minutes to spare, I jump on board and set Spot down. I start racing through the carriages, eyeballing everyone I pass while Spot happily pads behind me like this is just another normal doggie day for him.
When I reach the second-to-last carriage, I see them. Sarah is at a little table facing Alfie, whose legs I can see kicking at the side of his seat. She looks amazing, even better than in my head, even though she is wearing a giant jumper and tracksuit bottoms.
I’m almost right beside her before she looks up and realises it’s me. She looks like she’s seen a ghost. Her mouth literally drops open.
‘Nick? What are you doing here?’
‘I spoke to Matt,’ I pant. ‘I had to see you.’
The train conductor starts announcing departure.
‘So, Matt sent you to speak for him? Why didn’t he. . . wait, is that your dog?’
‘What?’ I spin to see Spot trying to hump the leg of a disgruntled man two rows behind me. I quickly pull Spot away, mouthing my apologies. ‘Oh yes, this is—’
Suddenly the train begins to move, then abruptly jolts, making me fly forward. I knock my hand against the table, howling in pain, and making the rest of the carriage turn in my direction.
‘Shit, sit down,’ she says, moving her bags to her feet. ‘What the hell did you do to your hand?’
‘Mum, I think he likes me.’
