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‘There’ll be another one along in fifteen minutes or so,’ a familiar voice tells me. I turn and come face to face with Elliott.
‘This is horrific!’ I exclaim. ‘Do you do this every day?’
‘It’s worse today, because there has been a load of cancellations due to a signal failure earlier, so people are just getting on any train that will get them out of London in the hope of changing trains later. It’s always pretty busy, though. We’ll get the next one with any luck.’
‘I’m not sure I can face it,’ I tell him. ‘I might come back later when it’s calmed down.’
‘Really? What will you do?’ He seems genuinely interested.
‘I don’t know. Maybe I’ll find a pub somewhere and have a glass of wine, perhaps get something to eat. You don’t fancy joining me, do you?’
I have no idea why I said that, a definite case of failing to engage my brain before opening my mouth. Elliott is obviously embarrassed, as I can see him trying to find a way to turn me down politely.
‘Sorry, that was silly of me. Forget I said anything,’ I tell him. ‘I’ll see you on the platform tomorrow, okay?’
I don’t wait for his reply, but turn away and start fighting my way through the crowd to get back to the escalator. I really need to get out of here, as the sheer number of people pressing against each other and blocking my path is starting to make me feel a bit panicky. Eventually, I reach the escalator and make my way back down into the foyer, positioning myself out of the main flow of people while I catch my breath. Once the claustrophobia has subsided, I reach into my pocket and bring out my phone to search for somewhere suitable to go.
‘How are you with Lebanese?’ Elliott’s voice asks. I look up from the screen to find him standing right in front of me. I’m so surprised that it takes me a moment to reply.
‘Umm, fine, I guess,’ I manage.
‘There’s a place about five minutes away. It’s always pretty busy, which I reckon is a good sign, but there are usually a couple of free tables. I’ve never been in, but I’m happy to give it a try if you are? There are plenty of other places if not.’
‘Lebanese it is,’ I tell him.
The restaurant is obviously popular, but there are some free tables outside under the patio heaters as Elliott predicted, so we settle ourselves at one of them and start perusing the menu. It all looks delicious, but what I’d really like is a glass of wine, so we place our drinks order with the waitress and promise to order food shortly.
‘Have you had any more thoughts about what you’re going to do?’ Elliott asks, as I take the first sip of Sauvignon Blanc. It’s cold and crisp, and I almost sigh with pleasure.
‘What do you mean?’ I reply.
‘The thing that we were talking about on the train this morning. Sorry, I’m not being nosy, I’m just trying to make conversation. It’s been a while, so forgive me if I’m a little rusty.’
‘You do seem very private,’ I tell him. ‘We’re next-door neighbours, and we get on the same train pretty much every morning, but I feel like I hardly know you.’
‘I’m sorry. The truth is that I seem to have lost the knack of chatting easily with people I don’t know well. I’ve never been particularly outgoing, but I guess living on my own has made me even less sociable.’ He smiles. ‘Perhaps I’m a modern-day hermit.’
‘Hmm. You don’t look like a hermit. I’m pretty sure most of them don’t commute, for a start. In fact, I’m fairly certain that a central part of the whole hermit gig is kind of staying where you are. I think you’re also supposed to have a long beard with bits of twig and stuff in it.’
He laughs. I’ve never heard him laugh before, but it’s deep and rich. Again, I get that tantalising glimpse of someone else. He’s like a crab in some ways. On the outside there’s this hard, protective shell, but there’s something completely different inside. Thinking of crab meat puts my mind back on to food, and I pick up the menu again.
‘What about you?’ I ask him, once we’ve placed our orders.
‘What about me what?’
‘You said you were divorced. What happened?’
He looks deeply uncomfortable, and I realise I’ve overstepped the mark.
‘I’m sorry. That was crass of me,’ I tell him. ‘I was just curious because it’s something we have in common, that’s all. Let’s talk about something else.’
‘It’s fine. You just caught me unawares,’ he replies. ‘Her name was… is, Nikki. She was a friend of a friend, and we met at said friend’s birthday party one year. I should have seen the warning signs at the start, but she was beautiful and I was smitten. We got engaged after six months and married a year later. I thought I’d hit the jackpot; this might come as a surprise to you, but IT isn’t the kind of career that many people consider to be especially sexy, so I was definitely batting above my league.’
‘What were the warning signs?’
‘Her mother, mainly. She was completely overbearing. I think Nikki was looking to me as a way to escape from her mum, but they were so totally enmeshed, it was never going to happen. I was just so desperate for this beautiful girl to be my wife that I didn’t pay it the attention I should have.’
‘So, when you got married…?’ I prompt him.
