Warrnambool Wreck (1)

Lucy Granger looked up from her book realising she had been very involved in its text for an extraordinary long time and she could be late for the 18:28 Warrnambool train she should be catching. Her mobile phone read 18:20 and she nearly had a fit in fright! Had she not heard the boarding calls?

She gathered her belongings and tried to neaten the hand-luggage she needed to carry on with her. Looking out the windows she saw the massive station spread out below her like a Hornby model train set. City trains coming and going and tiny people jostling about. To the far side she saw a luggage trolley train and recognising her green suitcase on it noted it trundling up the side of the station towards the platforms.

Hurrying now she galloped down the moving escalator stair and wove her way through the commuters aiming for their homes and around to the pre-designated platform 7 for her train.

There were a lot of people standing waiting and 2 bud diesel train engines but no carriages. Lucy back stepped and looked at the tiny monitors and saw that there wasn’t a mention of Warrnambool on the list for that platform. Lost now, and seriously worried she may have missed it, Lucy looked about for another means of information. And there was a man in railway uniform looking like he was wishing he wasn’t there.
‘Hi!’ she approached him smiling pleasantly. ‘You probably don’t want to help me but would you know where the Warrnambool train may be? Or if it’s already left?’
‘Not here?’ he counter-asked brightly and smiled to which she grinned. ‘That’d be the 6:28 right?’ he went on in a less sarcastic tone ‘I don’t think it’s left yet although…’ he consulted his watch and blanched slightly. ‘That’s now. This is supposed to be the Traralgon train. I think the Warrnambool one will be down there somewhere.’ He waved absently back towards the other side of the station and platforms 1 to 6 ‘Sorry cant help any further.’
‘Thanks.’ She smiled and set off at a slight jog towards the lower numbered platforms.

There were five carriages on platform 3 that looked like what the Warrnambool train usually looked like and several hundred people all standing on the platform looking at it; although Lucy couldn’t see any engines to pull it. Relief flooded her as she read “Warrnambool” on the screen at the end of the platform and she made her way around the people to see that the carriage closest to the screen was the first class. Good she didn’t have to hike to the other end of the train.

She took a space that regrettably was directly in front of the door. She felt like a line jumper but it was either that or be right at the back and possibly not get on at all. An absurd thought as she’d booked for the train and purchased her tickets that morning. But even then there were only 1st class seats left so she had decided to splurge and try out the luxury you’d get for the $6 extra. She needed to be in Terang that night so if she wanted to be there she’d have to spend the extra anyway; the indulgence was to get a first class return seat on the Monday.

As she waited, she heard the first of umpteen calls…
“Attention! Attention! Passengers on platform three, please do not board the 6:28 Warrnambool train until further notice. Please do not board the train!”

Looking up and down the carriage she noticed that the people were all obediently lined up along the platform facing the carriage windows; as though, if after they had proved themselves patient and obedient enough, when it was time to board the train would open up like a Ferrari and they could just step off the platform into their seats. It was surreal like a painting and she muffled her urge to explode into laughter.

Turning from the sight, to distract herself, she looked upon a man slightly behind her and was certainly distracted.

In one glance she noted perfection personified! He wore a very well cut suit that showed off broad shoulders and trim waist. It was dark like his short well cut hair and to her amazement he wore a pale pink striped shirt and darker pink tie and looked as if he were the most macho of men! There were gold cuff links at his wrists and a gold watch and a gold tie-bar. His left hand supported a paper while his right used an ordinary biro to work the puzzle on the page open to him. Beside him a small case sat obediently.
But what caught her up short was when his eyes flicked up at her long dark lashes framed stunning sapphire irises trimmed with deepest cobalt making them mesmerizing, startling her; she could swear on a bible, he was as amused as she was about the whole situation.

She turned back to the train and just waited for the attraction to wash over her and leave her alone. She was engaged to a very wonderful man of her own, handsome funny clever, caring. Besides perfectly handsome men, like Sir Adonis behind her, usually came with stunning wife or girlfriend; all neat as a pin, perfect make up and never a nail or hair out of line!
And even if he didn’t they were never attracted to scruffy wildly charmingly chaotic women like Lucy, her red hair always escaping whatever style she tried to get it in and her clothes always looking whimsical and lived in. But still that hint of a smile in those amazing eyes plagued her.

“Attention! Attention! Passengers on platform three, please do not board the 6:28 Warrnambool train until further notice. Please do not board the train!”

The woman standing beside Lucy looked even more ethereal than Lucy thought her own self image was. She wafted mystique with purple gypsy skirts and golden caftan like top and her longer brighter red hair caught in a jewelled butterfly clip. Her pudgy arm supported multitudes of purple pearly bangles and her neck was lassoed in ropes of long purple and amber plastic and wooden beads. Her large purple rimmed glasses belied her attempt at retaining her youth showing up her deep-set wrinkles and tired grey irises.

Lucy turned away to the train again.

Who was she to judge? She was a darker version of madam purple; a somber, duller, less courageous attempt at a similar freedom of expression. Even though she was constantly reminding herself that she was a mature woman now, Lucy’s image would love to be as free as Madame Purple. Her once golden Ginger hair had dulled to dark red; still long and lush, but now warn usually in a high pony tail. Trying to dress cool for the heat was stifling, yet keep her untoned body covered, she wore a long brown skirt and brown top with floaty sleeves and chocolate mock velvet yolk; but somehow she wished she’d worn jeans and a tank top!

“Mature Lucy Mature!” she mumbled to herself

She was just as old as the purple lady; she was a mother of a grown child and other teenage children; she was a woman with a semi-trailer’s worth of baggage from her life thus far. and she had no business judging others. If truth be told she actually envied the purple woman her courage to dress as she liked to project her inner image regardless of other’s opinion.

“Attention! Attention! Passengers on platform three, please do not board the 6:28 Warrnambool train until further notice. Please do not board the train!”

Suddenly there was a frantic beeping and the adapted Golf Buggy that looked like a mini van, obviously for restocking the buffet kiosk, came buzzing along between the train and the passengers, just fitting in the gap the people had left. It stopped directly in front of the purple lady and another woman who’d seemed to suddenly appear between her and Lucy.

‘And now we stare at a van.’ The new woman stated flatly and Lucy laughed in spite of herself.

She registered they’d stepped back a pace for the van and that the man with the pink shirt was now close enough to her shoulder for her to hear him chuckling also. It sent thrills rippling down her neck and back and made her breath catch.

At least the activity of men loading the containers from the little van to the buffet kiosk broke the monotony of staring at an empty train.

But the heat made the waiting worse. It was one of Melbourne’s hot days, a day that the heat and humidity had skin dripping even so late in the evening.
A baby cried out somewhere in the station and Lucy sent up a silent prayer that the poor child wouldn’t be boarding an over crowded train. Lucy visualized in the void beneath the flying rafters, seven stories up, a cloud of collective prayers threats and wishes all of the same thing “Please don’t let that baby be on my carriage!”

“Attention! Attention! Passengers on platform three, please do not board the 6:28 Warrnambool train until further notice. Please do not board the train!”

The little van trundled off and in its wake a Fair-dinkum outback Jillaroo – dust on her cracked well worn RM Williams boots and all – strode up carrying a large plastic tub of personal belongings. Her strong lean muscular arms were tanned and impressive the tank top showed not an inch of unnecessary flesh. Her short brown hair held up her sweat stained dusty akubra, her faded blue jeans were a second skin and her boots aided her rider’s rolling gait. She had a slight altercation with the train staff at the guards van and strode back again with her tub of things.

‘Looks like she might not get on. I hope I do.’ The woman between madam purple and Lucy said; commenting on the Jillaroo.
‘They’ll have enough seats provided you booked one you’ll be fine.’
‘Book one?’ the woman suddenly looked horrified. ‘You have to book to get to Geelong?’
‘This is a reserved service so yeah, you most likely do or you’ll end up standing in the alcoves of the carriages.’ Lucy replied. ‘When I booked this morning there were only first class seats left unless they have added a carriage for unreserved seats. You’d better check with someone in blue.’
‘Thanks.’ The woman said and hurried up to the guards van to speak to the cluster of blue clad train staff there.
Moments later she hurried past again making for the other end of the train to hopefully get a seat.
‘Thanks again’ she called in passing.
Lucy looked after her and saw the swell of the crowd down near the unreserved end of the train. Down there it would be line jumping or sheer luck to get a seat now.

‘It does look busy.’ One lady commented to her companion on the other side of Lucy. ‘But there should be seats left in first class for us.’
‘Um only if you’ve booked.’ Lucy felt compelled to say.
‘Surely not! We came up from Geelong this morning and there were plenty. We didn’t have to book then we have return tickets.’
‘This is a reserved service as is the first morning service but the lunch one isn’t.’ Lucy told them. ‘So I’d suggest you check.’
‘Oh thank you we shall.’ The woman replied and the pair also hurried up to the group in blue, as only elderly ladies with tired feet in best town heels could.
Moments later they too made a hurried dash for the other end of the train.
‘I should ask for a commission.’ Lucy commented aloud to herself… and heard that soft deep chuckle behind her shoulder again.

“Attention! Attention! Passengers on platform three, please do not board the 6:28 Warrnambool train until further notice. Please do not board the train!”

Lucy felt uncomfortable. Her feet ached in her new leather sandals and sweat began trickling down her spine and the backs of her legs. It was close to seven now and the heat was just as intent as it had been at midday. She longed for a shower and one of her fiancé’s muscle melting massages. Why hadn’t she worn a more practical outfit?
A woman down the platform wore crisp cotton trousers and a contrasting silky tank top and looked model gorgeous. Lucy thought of her own freckled creamy skin and the fact there was somewhat more of it than that slender woman’s; and decided she was better off hiding her arms and shape than enhancing it.
She found herself staring back at the first class sign on the side of the train’s door and wishing she was slender, that just once in her life she could have been slim and able to wear whatever she wanted to.

“Attention! Attention! Passengers on platform three, please do not board the 6:28 Warrnambool train until further notice. Please do not board the train!”

But a small cheer went up as the staff were coming up the train unlocking and opening the train doors from the unreserved end; making a lie of the last call.
Finally they were allowed to board their carriage and Lucy found herself first on. More than anything the coolness of the air-conditioning enveloped her and she paused for a satisfying breath before continuing inside. She found her seat without a hitch and discovered with stunning delight, the pink shirt man had followed her and smiling held out the ticket for the window seat beside her aisle seat. Thrilled and excited beyond just that of getting on the train and the adventure of the trip ahead, Lucy allowed her smile to shine.

She slipped into another seat to give him room to get in and settle which entailed putting his case up in the luggage rack and taking his suit jacket off and putting it up on the case. Watching him Lucy realised he was quite tall and without the jacket his shoulders were still powerfully broad and his waist suitably trim. He had to be a gym junky yet somehow he still projected the air and grace of a gentleman. Rather “James Bond”-ish; debonair and charismatic yet exuding the power of a jungle cat and the perceived cleverness of McGuiver!

When he took his seat and she slid in beside him he smiled at her and she nearly gasped. Men like him should wear a warning sign; “Devastating” would do!

• favorite this
• report a concern

Add your comment

You need to login or signup to add your comment to this work.

Tags:

action, adventure, comedy, drama, forbidden, love, mystery, novel, romance, serial, story, train and travel