AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The train came to a stop and there was the usual flurry of activity. People shot out of their seats and I watched them scrabbling their things together, clambering to be first off the train. Perhaps I’d just stay on board, unnoticed, until the train filled up again and we turned back to London.
The doors pinged open. The aisle full of eager passengers began to empty out. My throat felt tight; I swallowed hard to loosen it. I stood up and pulled my coat and my cabin case out of the luggage rack, light-headed now as well as nauseous.
I stepped off the train. There were only a few of us straggling behind the crowd, a woman trying desperately to strap a toddler into a buggy and businessman on a phone call, his briefcase swinging wildly in his hand. We’d come in on Platform 4. That would buy me some time to gather my thoughts. According to the departures and arrivals screen above my head, it was 11.54. Six minutes to go.
I began to walk very slowly along the concourse, feeling as though I was dragging my suitcase through mud. I badly regretted bringing it now, but the plans we’d made were so vague that I hadn’t known what to do. In hindsight, it would have looked much cooler to have come with only my shoulder bag, to have given the impression I was just breezing through Paris for the day, and that I might, might pop along to Platform 19 on the off-chance he’d be there. At least I’d booked a hotel – there was no way I could presume I’d be staying at his. And my return journey was locked in for the following evening. Even if he was there, even if it was as lovely as the first time, I wasn’t going to moon around waiting for him to dictate how long I should stay. I’d bought myself a ticket for an exhibition at the Centre Pompidou too, just in case. So that if he didn’t come, I could somehow convince myself that the trip hadn’t been for nothing.
I stopped, my breath catching in my throat, fumbling around in my pocket for my phone. 11.58. There was no way I could be early. I killed some time waiting underneath one of the lamp posts that were dotted about; I’d seen them last time, sprouting randomly out of the concourse. Passengers weaved past me, kids or suitcases in their hands, headphones on, phones clamped to their ear. Everyone looked relaxed, everyone knew where they were going and why. Nobody looked as nervous as I felt, although perhaps they were just hiding it well. I swiped at my phone again, bringing the screen to life with a shaking thumb. 12.00. I took several deep, abdominal breaths and I touched my hair, smoothing down the curls. I’d worn it like I’d had it before, half up, half down, in case he only recognised me that way, although my hair was a few inches longer than it had been.
I made my way to the platform, slowly at first and then more quickly, because now it was time, I sort of wanted to get it over with. If he wasn’t there, I’d put a brave face on it and I’d move on, just as I’d been doing my whole life. If he was? Well, then, I didn’t know. My ankle boots clip-clopped on the marble flooring as I walked along. My skirt flipped against my thighs. I had a white vest on, like I’d had before, but this time I wore a chunky knitted cardigan on top of it, my winter coat slung over my arm.
I arrived at Platform 19, placing my hand on my chest, like that was going to stop the hammering. I stood very still for a bit, but it was too quiet and I could hear my pulse beating in my ear drums, so I turned full circle, very slowly, as casually as I could, my eyes flickering left and right. Where would he be, if he was here? Where would he stand? I did one full rotation and couldn’t see him. I crossed my arms, swallowing down the lump in my throat.
‘Hannah?’
I was looking down the platform at the time, out at the end of the glass canopy, the way I had been when I’d missed the Amsterdam train and had been staring at it in disbelief. I turned my head, scared to look. What if my mind had been playing tricks on me? What if I’d imagined his voice, because that was what I’d wanted to hear?
‘Hey,’ he said, smiling at me.
It was him. His hair was shorter than it had been before. He had jeans on and his leather jacket and a grey scarf and looked a little unsure of himself.
‘Hi,’ I said.
I felt breathless, as though I could only speak in short bursts.
‘You are upright, at least,’ he said.
I smiled, gripping the handle of my suitcase. ‘Yep. No accidents yet.’
‘You look beautiful, Hannah,’ he said.
I nodded, my eyes fixed to the floor. ‘You too.’
He took a step closer to me. ‘Did you believe I would be here?’
I lifted my head. ‘I wouldn’t have come all this way otherwise, would I?’
‘You have found your confidence, I see.’ He reached out to touch my hair. ‘It is longer,’ he said.
‘You cut yours.’
An announcement blared over the loudspeaker. We both jumped and then laughed, self-conscious.
‘I’ve missed you,’ I said, which felt strange to say, but I’d decided that if he was there, I was going to be completely honest about my feelings for him. Was going to share every single thought in my head.
‘I think about you all of the time,’ he said.
I cupped his head in my hands, tugging at him to come closer.
‘Oh, right. I can kiss you now, can I?’ he said, teasing me.
I pretended to think about it, and then instead I kissed him. Gently at first, enjoying this moment that I’d daydreamed about every single day since I’d seen him last. Then his thumb was running across my cheek and his hands were in my hair and I dropped the handle of my suitcase and it clattered to the floor and I didn’t care who could see us. I pressed myself into him.
‘I am so happy to see you, Hannah,’ he said, kissing my neck, then my lips again.
I laughed softly. ‘We have so much to tell each other.’
‘I want to hear everything,’ he whispered in my ear, running his fingers up and down my spine.
