Our Stop

by Laura Jane Williams

  Emma nodded. ‘He’s so wonderful, and I just wanted to tell you – don’t worry. Just enjoy it. Enjoy him, okay? He’s … I really like him.’

  Nadia didn’t know what to say. Her heart swelled and beat faster, her breathing speeding up to match.

  ‘I have something I am supposed to tell you, though. Hold on.’ Emma unfolded a piece of paper, where she’d scribbled something down.

  ‘Ready?’ she asked. Nadia nodded.

  ‘Coffee Spill Girl. Time to put our money where our mouth is and finally have this date. We’re only about four months behind, but I have no doubt you’re worth the wait. I can’t believe I didn’t say hello to you the first time I saw you. I promise not to make a habit of being so stupid. See you in a minute, Train Guy.’

  Nadia rolled her eyes. ‘I was an idiot too,’ she told Emma.

  ‘Nah,’ Emma said. And then: ‘Okay. Head down that alleyway there. Go. Fall in love.’

  54

  Nadia

  Nadia walked down the back alley as instructed, seeing, in the distance, a handsome man with a yellow rose in his hand.

  ‘Hello?’ she said, uncertain.

  ‘Nadia,’ the man replied. ‘Are you Nadia?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, reaching him.

  ‘Lorenzo,’ he said. ‘I’m Daniel’s … I know Daniel.’

  Nadia waited for him to continue.

  ‘He’s been nuts about you ever since he heard you talking to your boss one lunchtime,’ Lorenzo said. ‘And I thought he was over-egging it a bit. Thought he was crazy to get so excited about a woman he hadn’t actually talked to himself.’

  Nadia smiled.

  ‘But, that’s who he is. He gets a read on people. Knows people. He’s waiting around the corner for you, at The Old Barn Cat. Where you should have met last time. He wanted me to tell you how excited he is, and to ask if you saw the paper today? He wrote another advert, but – well, I don’t suppose it matters now.’

  ‘I don’t suppose it does.’

  ‘He was always going to find you again.’

  Nadia smiled. ‘I think we were always going to find each other,’ she said, before thanking him and turning the corner to the bar.

  55

  Daniel

  Daniel had gone straight into the bar this time, no dilly-dallying outside. He’d ordered a bottle of cava, some tap water, and a charcuterie board. The place was dark and peppered with candles, and the cold outside but warm air inside had forced condensation up the windows, making it feel cosy and like winter had almost arrived. His jacket was hung under the bar, on one of the hooks, and his phone was face-down in front of him. He waited.

  56

  Nadia

  ‘It’s you,’ she smiled.

  ‘It’s you,’ he smiled.

  Nadia stood before Daniel, her flowers cradled in the nook of her arm. Her cheeks were flushed and she felt jittery and coy, like a schoolgirl. Her heart thumped.

  He leapt up, remembering himself, and gave her a hug.

  ‘Thank you for these,’ she said, as they stood facing each other, nodding at the bouquet she held. ‘And for the trail of people …’

  ‘All the people that knew about you and me, before there was a you and me to know about …’

  Nadia and Daniel sat next to each other at the bar – the same place they should have met the first time. The same guy was behind the counter. As he approached them he said, ‘Hey! You guys found each other!’ and they all laughed. Daniel poured them both a glass of cava, explaining that it was dry, like champagne, and Nada told him that she’d read something about that, maybe in The Times.

  They had so much in common, and so much yet to learn.

  ‘You know what?’ Nadia said. ‘Do you mind if we move to go and sit over there, at a table?’

  Daniel cocked his head at her. ‘Not at all,’ he said, and Nadia explained: ‘This is where I waited for you last time. When you didn’t …’

  ‘Say no more,’ Daniel nodded, understanding. When he didn’t show up.

  The barman gave them a little bowl of olives with toothpicks and a bowl for the pips, and said their charcuterie would be on the way. Once he’d gone and the polite chit-chat was over, Nadia finally stole a peek at Daniel and decided it was too far away to sit opposite him, so moved her chair around so that she sat on the corner of the table, next to him, her knees knocking into the side of his legs.

  She said, ‘Tell me from the beginning. Tell me what happened.’ She raised her glass to his, and they said a small ‘cheers’.

  ‘Tell you what happened,’ Daniel repeated. They were both doing that grinning thing again. They were both just so damn happy to be there.

  ‘Well,’ he said. ‘I got a new job, and so hadn’t been doing this commute very long.’

  Nadia dropped her jaw, playfully. ‘Oh wow, okay. You really are going from the beginning, beginning.’

  Daniel’s face dropped, disappointed. ‘You said to!’

  ‘I was just kidding,’ Nadia said. ‘Sorry. I’m … nervous.’

  ‘You are?’

  She shrugged. ‘A little. Maybe.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad you said that,’ Daniel said. ‘Because I am too.’

  Nadia wanted to remember every detail of what was happening, like he’d said to. The shadows of the candles across his face and the taste of the bubbles against her throat and the way he half smiled when he was unsure and needed encouraging. She wanted to frame the smell of the place, pine cones and orange, and see herself from above, flicking her hair back off her neck.

  She smiled at him. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘The commute.’ He was so handsome – and so polite too, always making sure she was comfortable and topping up her glass without asking.

  ‘Well. I saw you by the market one day, not long after I had started my job. Before the summer – maybe in May? You were with some slick, corporate guy, talking so passionately about, like, artificial intelligence? And laughing, and being smart, and I just knew you were a woman I wanted to know.’

  ‘Slick corporate guy? I mean – if that was with Jared, that really was months ago! I got the go-ahead on that in … May, I think. April, even!’ Nadia wanted to know everything about this man who had spotted her in a crowd so long ago. Why hadn’t she seen him then?

  Daniel looked down at his lap, where he fiddled with his hands. ‘Yeah. I felt so stupid for not approaching you then, but what was I gonna do? You were working, and—’

  Nadia realized something: ‘And if you had tried to say hi I would have totally blown you off.’

  Daniel laughed. ‘Exactly. Let the woman have her lunch meeting!’

  Nadia laughed too. Now she thought about it, it was pretty rare to have a guy randomly strike up conversation. Maybe that was why she’d stayed and talked to Eddie when he did, on that fateful night. It was important not to be hassled on the street, but on reflection, she hardly ever spoke to somebody she didn’t already know. Like Eddie had said, it just didn’t happen.

  ‘But then I saw you,’ he continued, ‘on the train. My train. And over a couple of weeks I figured out that on a Monday you always got the 7.30, and sometimes on a Tuesday too.’

  Nadia laughed from her. ‘Ha! That’s hilarious to me. I always have the best intentions at the start of the week, and it never lasts. I’m just not a morning person!’

  ‘Noted,’ Daniel said. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’

  Nadia smirked.

  Daniel blushed.

  ‘But I panicked then too. What was I supposed to do? Talk to you on the underground like a psychopath?’

  He took a long sip of his drink. The condensation cooled on the outside of his glass, leaving a little wet mark on his chin. Nadia wanted to lean over and wipe it for him. She wanted to straighten his collar and touch his neck and pull him in close.

  ‘Again, I would have told you where to go.’ It’s true. She’d never spoken to another human on the tube in her life, except to maybe say ‘Excuse me’ or ‘Can you move your
bag, please?’

  ‘So I wrote to you. And then you wrote back. So I wrote again. It’s funny, but I actually sent another Missed Connection after the cinema, and it ran today. But then I saw you on the tube and you recognized me and the adverts … didn’t matter anymore.’

  ‘This is so weird, but my friend Gaby tried to set me up with you. Didn’t you go to the RAINFOREST summer party?’

  ‘Yup. Gaby. Gaby asked me to. But you never showed.’

  ‘And then the night at the bar? I showed up then!’

  ‘My mum … she’s just widowed. My dad died earlier this year. She was so upset …’

  ‘Oh gosh,’ Nadia said. ‘That’s so awful. I’m so, so sorry.’ She could see the sorrow flicker across his face. She could see the traces of grief in his expression.

  ‘It’s okay. She had this huge meltdown that night and I think it was a relief for both us, to be honest – it stripped away a bit of the trying-to-be-strong and made us a bit more honest. She goes swing-dancing now, and got a karaoke machine for the living room so she can have a bit of a sing-along without anyone in the house to tell her she carries a tune like a strangled cat.’

  Nadia reached out and slipped her hand into his, on his lap, playfully nudging him. The tenderness of it sent pulses through them both. He continued, encouraged: ‘That’s why I left that night – she was so upset. And then the next day I saw you with your boyfriend and thought maybe it wasn’t you I’d been writing to after all. I mean – I meant it to be for you, but … Oh, I don’t know!’

  ‘Do you know when I met that guy?’ Nadia said, understanding he meant Eddie.

  ‘When?’

  ‘The night you stood me up.’

  ‘No way.’

  ‘Way.’

  Daniel stroked her hand with his thumb. ‘Shit! I thought you’d been together for ever!’ He knew leaving would have cost him, he just didn’t account for how much.

  ‘And then the cinema thing …’ Nadia continued. She figured Daniel had been pretty honest and vulnerable with her, so she would give him something of herself in return.

  ‘I have a confession,’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I found you. On Instagram. After that. I was on the geo-tag and your friend had uploaded a picture and tagged you and …’

  ‘Oh shit,’ he laughed. ‘How far back did you scroll?’

  ‘Pretty far.’

  ‘Ooooooh. There’s some dodgy filter usage in my past.’

  ‘I saw,’ said Nadia. ‘A little sepia on those sunsets.’

  He cringed. ‘Guilty as charged, your honour.’

  ‘I wanted you to ask for my number that night. I was so mad when you disappeared!’

  Daniel laughed. ‘You’re telling me! I spent the whole night trying to find your face in the crowd!’

  Nadia stared at him, earnestly. ‘You did?’

  Daniel shrugged. ‘Maybe. Yeah.’ He looked at her. She wanted him to kiss her.

  ‘That makes me happy,’ she said, uncrossing her legs and inching forward in her seat. ‘Because I looked for you too.’ She tilted her face upwards slightly, being brave enough to make it clear what she was doing. Daniel smiled. His voice dropped low and he leaned forward himself.

  ‘So all these near-misses,’ he said, his mouth centimetres from hers, his head tipped to the right. ‘And only now do we get to be in the same bar …’ He tilted his head the other way now, delaying the inevitable moment, making Nadia’s breathing shallow and heart race and she swallowed, daring to push forward the tiniest bit. ‘… at the same time.’

  ‘Apparently so,’ she said softly, their noses touching now. ‘It’s quite the build-up.’

  ‘Isn’t it just.’

  And with that their lips met, and they kissed. Slowly, gently, magically. And then, faster and more passionately – and a different kind of magic.

  ‘Well,’ Nadia said, grinning, eventually coming up for air. ‘Nice to meet you, anyway.’ She pushed her forehead against his. ‘I’m Nadia Fielding.’

  Daniel laughed, his hand firmly on the back of her neck, pulling her in for more kisses.

  ‘Daniel Weissman,’ he said. ‘It’s very nice –’ his mouth kissed her cheek, her neck, near her mouth ‘– to meet you.’

  57

  Epilogue

  MISSED CONNECTION BECOMES CHARITY UNION

  Two lovebirds commuted beside each other every day but never spoke, and then fell in love by writing to each other via this paper. Now they’re launching an initiative as close to their hearts as each other.

  They say love strikes when you least expect it, and for artificial intelligence worker Nadia Fielding, a warm July morning seemed a day like any other. But then an advert in this very paper changed the course of her life – and her heart.

  Nadia, 29, didn’t know about engineer Daniel Weissman, 30. She didn’t know that two weeks into his new job in London Bridge he’d overheard her talking to her boss in Borough Market, and been captivated by her. She didn’t know that he then saw her frequently on his new commute, where he was desperate to catch her attention.

  ‘I knew, though,’ laughs Daniel, perched on the blue and red velvet of the Northern line carriage, ‘that I had to be clever about it. I knew Nadia wasn’t a woman you made a pass at on a busy tube journey. I’d heard her talk, and knew that if I was only going to have one chance to get her attention, that I had better put some thought into it.’

  An offhand comment from Daniel’s housemate prompted him to reach out via Missed Connections – the famous Lonely-Hearts-style section of our newspaper, designed for commuters of TfL to get a second chance at a connection if they don’t have the nerve or opportunity to ask out a commuter crush.

  ‘He was absolutely right,’ agrees Nadia, beaming, sat next to her unmissed connection as they ride into work together. ‘I don’t think I would have given a bloke cracking on to me at half seven in the morning the time of day. But I am obsessed with Missed Connections – not that he could have known that.’

  She pauses to smile at him again. The pair are attentive to their interviewer, but constantly look to the other to share their attention, making it clear they are a firm partnership.

  ‘My best friend and I would send each other our favourite adverts sometimes, but then one day she sent one and said it sounded like me. I couldn’t believe it! It suddenly made my mornings so much more interesting!’

  She wasn’t 100 per cent convinced it was meant for her at first, though:

  ‘It said something about being on the last carriage of the Northern line tube that goes through Angel at 7.30, and that’s the one I try to catch, but I thought lots of women must! It was my best friend who sent back the first response to him.’

  ‘Nadia’s best friend Emma definitely deserves to take a lot of the credit for this, then,’ Daniel says, bumping his shoulder against Nadia’s in a display of what is obviously an established joke between them. ‘Because from then on, throughout the summer we’d send notes back and forth, in the newspaper – which feels odd to say, but it didn’t feel odd. It felt fun and exciting, although also a bit like having your private Tinder messages read by half of London.’

  And half of London did, indeed, read them: the hashtag #OurStop trended on Twitter, with invested fellow commuters desperate to see the pair finally meet.

  ‘But then he stood me up for our first date,’ deadpans Nadia, before laughing at Daniel cradling his head in his hands, obviously mortified. Nadia continues: ‘When we’d finally arranged to meet up, he had a family emergency and left me waiting for him at the bar. I was furious!’

  Furious she might have been, but Nadia was, in spite of herself, also determined to know who the author of her letters was. ‘Even though it killed me to admit it,’ she adds.

  ‘In the meantime I dated, but I always wondered if he was still on my tube carriage sometimes. I wanted to at least get a look at the guy with enough imagination to write me letters in the bloody paper.’

&nbs
p; But a chance meeting at London’s Secret Cinema saw them meet face to face for the first time.

  ‘And not long after that, it was officially love,’ says Daniel, with Nadia tipping her head up towards him for a peck on the lips. They’re easy in each other’s company, and very openly affectionate.

  That was six months ago. ‘But we’re in no rush,’ says Nadia. ‘Daniel just moved down the road from me, so we see each other a lot, but we’re happy to make sure this all unfolds naturally. We both know falling in love isn’t a happy ending – it’s just the beginning.’

  Just the beginning is a theme for them, then, as they join forces for their new charity venture, Future Connections – a play on their own connection, and their love for shaping the work culture in their industries of technology and engineering.

  ‘It’s about training people who would normally get left behind by the tech revolution,’ explains Daniel.

  ‘I work in AI,’ says Nadia, ‘and, shamefully, build robots making people technically unemployed. This is my way of giving back.’

  Daniel is quick to leap to his girlfriend’s defence. ‘Not that she shouldn’t be doing that: lots of jobs are done better by robots. But people always come first, and with our training programme they can hopefully gain skills and opportunities to develop.’

  ‘Our biggest focus is getting older people into STEM, and even more women too.’

  Launching tomorrow, anyone is able to apply for the month-long programmes, which take the form of downloadable modules, meaning students can work at their own pace.

  ‘And then they can stop by the studio on a weekend for real-life demonstrations and advice,’ says Daniel, referencing their Newington Green office area, paid for through a donation from Nadia’s employer RAINFOREST.

  ‘There’s no judgement or expectation of what anybody “should” know,’ adds Nadia. ‘We just want to help. And we’re so proud that we can do that together.’

  As we pull up to London Bridge tube station, Nadia whispers to Daniel, ‘Babe, it’s our stop.’

  The pair say their thank yous and goodbyes, and walk out into their Future Connection, together.