Gregg Wilkinson

Waiting

Gregg Wilkinson

Bored with looking at the arrivals board inside, bored watching the inconsiderate parking manoeuvres outside, she pondered counting the black facing tiles on the wall that went through the middle of the station to the car park and noticed the wall like a gentle wave flowing through on its side. A memory drifted through, someone telling her about the famous sculpture at the old station, the wave sculpture. As far as she could remember, she had never seen it, but maybe the architects had used that old wave sculpture as one of the themes in the new station. That tune, Mr Probz, wave after wave slowly drifting......my face above the water my feet can't touch the ground.

Slowly drifting. Wave after wave slowly drifting away. She sang to herself, looked at the mark on her ring finger. How quickly memories fade, the old station that was white tiles wasn't it, trying to remember, she had been through a thousand times, it was always loud, noisy, too small and inadequate, a place you hurried through to get to, or from the train. Here it was quieter, more comfortable, less hurried, less crowded, altogether more pleasant inside and outside, Neil Atkin must be very pleased.

Still miles too early she thought, I could murder a cup of Earl Grey and walked over to Costa with the stupid guide book.

Journeys from Costas Gregg Wilkinson

Jimmy looked up as the crowd pushed through the door with their instruments one, two, nine, ten, ...twenty three.

Hell, nearly seven am Friday, no room for the regulars this morning, he thought and asked, 'What will it be?'

'Fourteen coffees and nine teas please.'

'Small, medium, regular?'

'Regular, please!'

'All with milk, semi skimmed?'

'Please!' Said the trumpeter. At least Jimmy thought he must be, with those cheeks.

'Where are you bound?' Asked Jimmy.

'London, 7:12!' Said the trumpeter.

'Take outs then?'

'Yeah, please!'

'Got held up this morning.' Said the trumpeter, as Jimmy called to Sarah and Steve to help speed up the order.

Later, morning rush over, Jimmy turned round to see a solitary customer. 'Yes please?'

'Earl Grey please. Drink in and semi skimmed please.'

'Are you catching the Edinburgh train?' said Jimmy.

'No, errm! 'She looked confused, slightly anxious even.

'The guide book'' pointed Jimmy, 'Scottish Highlands.'

'Oh!' She said, 'No, err! I'm meeting someone.'

'Ah! take a seat, I'll bring it over.' Jimmy wondered what the guide book had to do with meeting someone.

She took a sip. 'Mm! Perfect!' She smiled, their eyes met for the first time. Her anxious distracted look lifted, for a moment.

She was attractive, no rings, but a mark where one had recently been. Possibilities flittered through Jimmy's mind. He smiled back.

Platform Colour

Gregg Wilkinson

Oh my aching bones! And up since 6am.

Early morning, early Autumn sun rising but rising later now and any warmth southbound side shielded by the town and station building. A lovely morning, but chilly and heavy dew.

How many times have I done this run now? I've lost count. I suppose someone somewhere will have a tally.

Bang on time again and I've not had a hold up for ages now. The last one was those bloody points, or was it signals, between Doncaster and Wakefield. Lasted days.

Why when something fails on the line does it take at least 2 days to fix it properly?

Why can't they fix it first time? Overhead lines South of Peterborough is the worst section, the number of hours that's delayed me over the years I dread to think.

Platform 1 packed as usual for the 7.13, very popular from here due to the non stop to London, arriving 9.05, ....... most of the time. I suppose an extra 15 mins of sleep is important, otherwise more would get on the 06:50.

Mostly men, over forty, grey suits, bags, rucksacks and roller cases. No school kids or youths at this time, a tad too early for them.

At least on the morning outbound journey people look clean, neat and tidy, expectant or thoughtful ‌ most of them.

Not like the evening return! Talk about the great unwashed, tired, sweaty and fractious. More mums with kids and push chairs, particularly outside term time.

What a lovely still morning. I can smell that slight aroma of aftershave ... and perfume as I drift by the ladies and of course coffee. The waft of coffee always there in the mornings. As we get older we seem to need more stimulant to get us going in the mornings, me included. My aching bones!

Closer to the track the smell is a bit more industrial, this morning a mixture of fresh air and oily diesel fumes.

Crikey! Look at those heels, must be 9 inches. Nice legs though.

Northbound looks more youthful at this time, more females too, but not many around this morning. No doubt going to work in Leeds. The lads look half asleep, they have probably been out on the lash last night.

Oh my aching bones, I wish I was young again.

What's that down the platform? a splash of colour. I love a little colour, a bit of variation from the dark suits, dark bags, dark shoes. All smart and businesslike, but no fun! Dull dull dull.

A nice yellow brolly. You won't be needing that today ... I hope not anyway.

A lovely purple handbag, matches bugger all else you are wearing lady.

Grey, grey, grey, black, black, grey black, yawn boring, boring!

Large, large, tall, slim, very tall, small, medium, medium, medium.

Oh my goodness, unfit and Lycra clad, with cycle, why is he catching the train, isn't that cheating? Team Sky, who are you trying to kid?

Ha! Nanuk of the North next, looking a bit overheated and definitely no need for that Parka today. Berk! or maybe inexperience, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt, he'll regret it in the London underground.

Middle section of the platform nearly always a little more interesting, a guy having an argument with someone over the phone, huge beer belly, I can hear him 'effing and jeffing' from here. Sounds like his wife or ex wife. What a charmer!

Nearly all have phones to their ears, or in their hands, or the red Costa cup. I like a bit of colour.

Look at those two talking, I wish I could hear what they were saying looks very interesting from her expression.

Here we go first class end, always less crowded, but usually even more dull. A bit smarter, more expensive wheelies, matching bag sets. Dull, dull, dull.

Hang on a mo! What's this?

Two blokes in Shorts!

Shorts and summer print shirts!

Shorts, summer prints shirts and two kids dressed the same as their dad's!

I like a bit of colour but that's too much for first class.

Will they allow that combination in first class? Surely they are at the wrong end of the platform. I don't want any hold ups.....

Perfect alignment on the stop, well done driver and I'm all awake and ready for the 2 hour sprint to London.

I suppose I better open my doors and let them on.

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