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‘I should have been on that train,’ he said. ‘Now I will be late for something very urgent, very important to me.’
‘Join the club,’ I said.
‘Well perhaps if you had been looking where you were going,’ he said, raking his annoying, floppy fringe out of his eyes.
‘I hope you’re not suggesting that any of this is my fault?’ I said.
He looked at me. ‘You must take some responsibility, no?’
I did a mock double-take. ‘Please do explain,’ I said.
He laughed.
‘And don’t laugh at me.’ I couldn’t stand these arrogant Parisians. Who did he think he was?
‘You feel guilty,’ he said, still chuckling to himself. ‘Admit it.’
‘I do not.’
‘You do.’
‘What have I got to feel guilty about?’
He looked up at the ceiling, pretending to think. ‘Hmmmn. Let me see … perhaps it is because you were running around like a crazy person in a busy train station. Falling over people’s things. Holding them up.’
My mouth actually hung open. He was unbelievable. ‘Well I’m very sorry that I didn’t notice your massive bag, which for some reason you decided to fling right across my path.’
He made a huffing noise. ‘I put it down for one second only to search for my ticket. If you had opened your eyes, you would have noticed it right there in front of you.’
‘I could have been seriously injured.’
‘If it had not been my bag you’d fallen over, it would have been somebody else’s.’
I pressed my lips together. This was getting me nowhere. I should be finding out when the next train was, not standing around arguing with someone I would thankfully never have to see again.
‘Right. Well this was a delightful conversation, but I’m going to go now,’ I said, shaking my head in an exaggerated way so that I could be sure he’d noticed. I felt a bit dizzy afterwards, actually.
‘Maybe you can slow down this time,’ he said, bending to get something out of his bag.
‘You know, you’re very rude,’ I said to the top of his head. He didn’t even look up. I went to say something else and then checked myself: I didn’t need to get into it. Holding my head high I turned and strode purposefully down the platform, which wasn’t easy with a limp.
‘And you are very clumsy!’ he called after me.
I clamped my hands to my sides to stop myself giving him the finger. I couldn’t believe he was trying to shift the blame onto me; I could have broken my neck out there. When I reached the end of the platform, I glanced back to check he wasn’t following me because I’d had enough of his appalling attitude for one day. I needn’t have worried, he’d obviously forgotten about me already and was sitting on top of his bag scrolling manically through his phone. I tutted indignantly to myself and walked on, trying to stay positive. I still had ten hours to get to Amsterdam in time for the wedding – how hard could it be?
