Strangers on the 16:02 by Priya Basil

Author:Priya Basil
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Transworld

Chapter Eight

The train comes to a stop with a jolt and Helen loses her balance, flopping forwards onto the man seated in front of her. It’s only Kerm’s quick reaction, reaching out to grab her shoulders, that prevents her from collapsing onto him fully.

‘Sorry!’ She tries to stand again, but it feels like everybody else in the carriage is pushing up behind her. She remains suspended over Kerm, one hand clutching his arm for support, the other holding onto her phone. Her handbag slides off her shoulder, the strap lodging in the crook of her elbow while the bulk of the bag falls on Kerm’s thigh.

‘Would you like to sit down?’ He shifts as if to get up from his seat.

Helen doesn’t hear the words but understands the action. ‘No! No, I’m fine. Thanks.’ She manages to straighten up, shakes her hair out of her face and thrusts her phone into the pocket of her coat.

‘Are you sure?’ Kerm’s bottom hovers just above the seat. Thick eyebrows rise over his dark brown eyes.

Helen pulls her earphones out as he repeats the question. ‘I’m OK, really.’ She’s not sure why she’s insisting when it would be nicer to sit down. One of her ankles is turned at an odd angle, making it hard to balance. She almost falls again as the train lurches into motion once more.

The man gives her a smile as he settles into the seat again. His grin is boyish: a row of perfect teeth set off charmingly by the chipped tip of one central upper incisor. She studies him as he goes back to reading his newspaper. The corners of his eyes and mouth are untouched by lines. Although his face lacks the seriousness of wrinkles, there is an authority in the hard set of his jaw and a confidence in the tousled mess of his overgrown hair. She can tell he’s tall from the way his head looms higher than all of the other seated passengers. His legs stick out into the aisle on either side of her, like barriers.

Without the protection of her earphones, Helen registers the din around her for the first time. In the conversations she overhears, every word seems to be followed by an exclamation mark: ‘Sandra! That’s! The! Wrong! One!’ She feels weary just listening. Suddenly she can’t wait to be off the train and at her destination. She notices that the train’s slowed down again. She thinks they must be approaching a station, but suddenly they draw to a sharp halt right in the middle of nowhere.

Outside there is only a bland darkness. It is the typical dark of cities: soft at the edges, its purity corrupted by the electric grid, which stretches through every park and down every dead-end street.

Helen looks left and right, as if for an explanation for the stoppage, but there’s no announcement – nothing – and nobody else seems bothered. The school kids banter away as if they have all the time in the world, and the few other passengers Helen can see appear absorbed in their newspapers or mobiles.

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