by Jess Foley
Once settled in, she thought back on her meeting with Mrs Acland. It was so splendid that everything had gone so well. She had not dared to hope for such a positive outcome, but it had all come to fruition.
She was so caught up in her thoughts that she was not immediately aware of the train departing. Only when her gaze from the window met the sweeping view of the November landscape did she come out of her reverie.
The fields and woodlands trundled by, punctuated here and there with hamlets, villages and small market towns. After a while the train halted briefly at Church Cresson, and again further along at Stretton, where the three other passengers alighted, leaving her alone in the carriage as the train called at Pippinly, and moved on then towards Hanborough. There a short woman in a dark, plum-coloured coat climbed aboard. As she moved to a seat in the far corner she nodded at Lily, and murmured a little greeting, which Lily returned.
The train rattled on its way, and after a while drew into Corster. Lily sat looking out onto the bustling platform as the passengers came and went to the accompanying sounds of the opening and slamming of the carriage doors. Turning her head to her right, her casual glance was drawn to the window on the other side of the compartment, beyond which a train was just pulling into the adjacent platform, heading in the opposite direction. Idly she watched as it slowed, while some of its passengers rose from their seats, collecting up their belongings, preparing to depart. She turned her head away, and as she did so she heard the sudden flurry of raindrops pattering against the window, and then from the other corner the woman’s voice, saying with a sigh, ‘Ah, here comes the rain. You could bet the dratted stuff wouldn’t hold off for long.’
Lily turned to her, gave a nod, and murmured, ‘Yes, indeed.’
And then froze in her seat.
In glancing at the woman, Lily’s gaze had also taken in the train on the adjacent, downline track. It had now come to a complete halt, and stood so close that its near carriage window was no more than three feet beyond the window of the compartment in which she sat. From her seat in the corner, she gazed, riveted, into the other compartment, where the passengers chatted to each other or sat reading their newspapers and books. Lily’s rapt attention, however, was fixed on one particular man.
Without realising it, she rose from her seat, her taut body leaning towards the far window. Her mouth open, she lifted a hand to her lips, as if to stifle a cry. Then, almost in the same moment, the man turned his head and looked through into the compartment in which she stood. Their eyes met, and in a second the man’s widened, and his mouth opened and she could see her name, Lily, on his lips.
‘Joel . . .’ She whispered his name without being aware that she was uttering a sound. She watched as he rose up from his seat. He was so close and yet so completely inaccessible. From behind her, out on the platform, a whistle blew. In just a few moments, she knew, her path and Joel’s would diverge, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. She was helpless, standing there looking at him across the carriage, and through the two grimy windows. A few moments more and he would be gone.
He was trying to speak to her, but she could make out nothing from the movement of his lips, and no sound penetrated the two panes of glass and the distance between. Then suddenly the carriage gave a lurch, and she staggered slightly before recovering her balance. As the train began to move off, leaving the other train behind, she saw Joel lift his newspaper and turn its face to the window. In the same moment his right hand came up, moving in a sharp gesture. But how the gesture ended she did not see, for in another second he was gone out of her sight.
As she stood there the rest of the train was left behind and vanished from her view, and then all she saw beyond the rain-lashed window was the collection of smoky railway buildings, and the houses that nestled close by.
Chapter Fifteen
‘Excuse me – are you all right, miss?’
The voice came from the woman sitting in the corner seat by the far window, and Lily turned to her, seeing her slightly bemused expression, a little frown of concern on her round, good natured face. Lily’s eyes widened as she began to come back to the reality of the moment. ‘I – I beg your pardon . . .?’
‘I asked if you were all right . . .’
‘What? Oh, yes. Yes – thank you.’ Lily half turned and lowered herself once more into her seat. From her bag she took a handkerchief and touched at her forehead and cheeks. Her flesh felt hot, and she could feel herself gasping as her breast rose and fell sharply. She took a few deep, steady breaths and tried to gather herself, but her gloved hands were trembling as she returned her handkerchief to her reticule, and she could feel the faint dampness of perspiration again upon her brow.
Joel. He had been there. Just a few feet away, separated from her by the shortest distance and two rain-streaked, soot-stained windows. Now beyond the glass, the fields, hedges, farmyards and common sights of rural Wiltshire passed by. Seeing it all glide before her, she was only aware that with every yard she travelled, the train was taking her further and further away from him.
The next station on the line was Killetshaw. Lily sat hunched over in her seat as the train pulled into the station then a few minutes later pulled out. Fate had determined that she and Joel should not meet again; it was fate that had played so capriciously, placing him there under her gaze, so close and yet so far, and then sending her on her way once more. A short while ago she had felt so positive. She had had a successful interview with Mrs Acland, and at last had seen a future before her – and then, out of the blue, Joel had come back into her life. He had come back and then as swiftly gone again.
‘I couldn’t help but see what happened . . .’
Hearing the woman’s voice, Lily turned to her.
‘What an extraordinary thing,’ the woman said, ‘to catch sight of your friend like that.’
‘Yes.’ Lily nodded.
‘I felt so sorry for you both – not being able to make contact, not being able to talk to one another, yet being so close.’
Lily, distracted, nodded again. She wanted only to be alone with her thoughts, but the woman was not to be stopped. ‘Well, when you next meet,’ she said with a smile, ‘you’ll have something to laugh about.’
‘No,’ Lily said, unable to stop herself, ‘we shan’t be meeting again. I don’t know where he was going.’
The woman frowned. ‘But – he was going to Hanborough, surely.’
‘Hanborough?’ Lily was at once alert. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘Oh, but – but I thought that’s what he was telling you . . .’ She shrugged. ‘Wasn’t it?’
‘Telling me?’ Lily’s tone was almost breathless. ‘I don’t know. I couldn’t make it out – what he was trying to say. I didn’t understand.’
The train had begun to slow, preparing to pull into the next station. The rhythm on the tracks was subtly changing.
‘Oh,’ said the woman, ‘maybe you couldn’t see – not from over there – but I could see from my seat here, just as we drew away. He was pointing at the banner of his paper, the The Hanborough Gazette. He was pointing at the name – Hanborough. You couldn’t see that?’
‘No. I couldn’t.’
Lily straightened in her seat, and then rose to her feet. The train was pulling in alongside a station platform. She must get back, back to Hanborough. ‘Where are we?’ she said distractedly, and looking from the window saw that they had arrived at Hardy Chennell. She picked up her bag and umbrella. ‘I must get off.’ She turned to the woman. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Thank you – so much.’
‘You’re getting a train back to Hanborough now, are you?’ the woman asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Well, you won’t have too long to wait.’
Lily clutched the carriage door-handle and pushed. ‘Goodbye,’ she said to the woman, and with the woman’s cheery farewell, stepped down onto the platform. The rain had stopped now. Closing the door behind her, she stood for a moment getting he
r bearings, then turned and headed off along the platform towards the narrow bridge that spanned the line.
Not many passengers had alighted at the stop, and they had soon left. In less than a minute Lily found herself alone. Within seconds she reached the stairs leading up to the bridge, and started up. As she did so the train on which she had arrived began to move, the smoke billowing and clouding the air. As she crossed the bridge the train passed beneath and chugged its way along the track. At the same time she saw that a train, the train she wanted, was approaching from the opposite direction.
It was slowing already, the smoke belching up from its stack as it came nearer. She quickened her step, clutching at her skirts with one hand, her umbrella and bag held in the other, while the train passed directly beneath her.
Now it was coming to a stop, and as she reached the top of the steps she heard the sound of its doors beginning to open and close. She hurried down.
Reaching the foot of the steps she started forward, while the guard, ten yards away, and with his back to her, raised his whistle to his lips.
‘Wait – please . . . !’
At the sound of her voice, he turned as she came across the boards, and lowered his whistle and acknowledged her with a nod that was half impatience, half good will, then stepped to the train and opened the nearest door.
Another few seconds and Lily, gasping out her thanks, was in the carriage, and the guard was slamming the door behind her. Even as she settled into a seat, the whistle was sounding. Moments later and the train was moving away.
Lily hardly took in the other occupants of the compartment, but sat with her hands clasping her bag and umbrella. Beyond the window on her left the fields and woodland moved more quickly by as the train gathered speed. Her heart pounded.
The minutes passed as the train chuffed its rackety way through the rain-wet countryside. First would be Killenshaw, then on through Corster – where she and Joel had set eyes upon one another – then further on to Vineleigh, and after that, Hanborough.
She sat there while the stations came and went, and the passengers alighted and boarded. Inside her gloves she could feel her palms damp, and a dampness too upon her brow beneath the crown of her hat. Then at last the train was slowing once more, as it pulled into Hanborough station. She picked up her bag and umbrella and got to her feet. The train was running alongside the platform now. She turned towards the door, looking out of the window to where people stood, waiting to climb on board.
And there he was.
He was standing about halfway along the platform, a leather case in one hand, his newspaper in the other, his anxious glance sweeping the length of the incoming train. And in the seconds after Lily had caught sight of him his gaze lighted upon her, and a look of relief and joy washed over his face.
Lily kept her eyes on him as he turned and began to stride along the platform while the train came to a halt. Another moment and she was opening the door, and even as it swung open, Joel was moving towards her. She stepped down onto the weathered boards, and the next second he was there, one hand reaching out to help her.
They stood there while the other travellers came and went around them.
‘So,’ Joel said, ‘you’re here.’
‘Yes – I’m here.’
‘I had no idea,’ he said, ‘whether you understood what I was trying to say to you – while we were on the train – but you did.’
‘Thanks to a kind lady in the carriage with me,’ Lily said. ‘Were it not for her, I’d still be on the way to Sherrell.’ On the periphery of her vision she was aware of the guard moving purposefully with his flag. Then a whistle blew. The train began to move out, its speed gathering as smoke and steam billowed into the autumn air. The guard moved away across the platform, took up a broom and began to sweep. Lily and Joel remained facing one another.
‘Well,’ Joel said, ‘can we go somewhere and talk?’
‘Yes. Of course.’
Together they headed across the platform to the exit, and emerged onto the street.
The station was situated on the outskirts of the small town. A tavern stood on the corner across the road from the station, and on the opposite side a coffee house. Joel gestured towards the latter, and they stepped into the road and made their way across.
The coffee house was small, but looked comfortable. Lily followed Joel inside and they took a table by a window that looked out onto the busy Station Road. The only other patrons were a pair of middle-aged women who sat on the far side of the room. As Joel set down his case, hat and newspaper he asked Lily what she would like to drink, and she replied that she would have tea. A young waitress came to them, took their order and went away again. The room was quiet, almost the only sounds being the rumble of carriages from the road outside.
After moments of silence had passed between them, Joel said, ‘Where were you heading for, Lily?’
‘To Sherrell. And you?’
‘Here to Hanborough. On business for the company.’
‘I hope this isn’t putting you out.’
‘No, not at all.’
He leant back a fraction on his seat and took her in with a little nod of approval. ‘Well – I have to say you’re looking very well, Lily,’ he said. ‘Is life being good to you? I hope so.’
‘Yes,’ she murmured, ‘things – things are going fairly well.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He added a moment later, ‘It’s grand to see you.’
She answered with a faint smile, ‘And to see you again, Joel.’
‘You’re going to be a bit late getting to Sherrell now,’ he said. ‘I hope you didn’t have an urgent engagement.’
‘No. I’m living there now – staying in lodgings.’
‘I see. So you moved away from home again – from Compton Wells.’
‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘I – I didn’t stay there long.’
‘I see.’ A long moment, then he asked, ‘Did you get my letter, from Cambridge?’
‘Yes.’ She could not meet his gaze, but looked down at her hands as she peeled off her gloves. ‘It was forwarded on from Whitton.’
‘I wondered.’ He gave a grave smile. ‘But you decided not to answer it.’ When she said nothing he gave a sigh and a little shrug. ‘Ah, well . . .’ Then he added, glancing at her bare left hand, ‘I can’t help noticing that you’re still Miss Clair. You’re not wearing any wedding or engagement ring.’
‘Oh,’ she said, ‘no,’ and lowered her gaze again.
He smiled. ‘I thought perhaps you might be married by now. That maybe you went back to Compton and met some young admirer from your earlier days.’
She frowned. ‘No. There’s – no one.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to be flippant.’ Then he added after a moment, ‘I – I’ve thought of you – so much.’
She wanted to say, Yes, and I have thought of you, but she did not speak.
The brief silence was ended with the arrival of the young waitress with her laden tray. When she had gone away again, Lily, glad of the distraction, stirred the contents of the teapot, giving all her attention to the mundane action. When the tea was poured, she passed a cup to Joel, then sipped from her own. All the while she could still feel his eyes upon her.
‘Why did you do that, Lily?’ he said after a moment. ‘Why did you end it like that? Had I done something so dreadful that you could write as you did?’
She did not answer, but looked down into her cup.
‘I was shocked,’ he said, ‘and bewildered. I couldn’t understand what was happening. When you wrote your letter you didn’t even include an address. All I knew was that you were writing from Compton Wells. So I had to write to you at Whitton, and just hope that it would be forwarded. And I waited, hoping you’d write back – perhaps saying that it was all a mistake, that you’d had second thoughts – but there was no word. As the time went on I thought I’d never see you again.’
Lily said nothing. She could hardly remember n
ow the words she had written; she could only recall her turmoil at the time that had driven her to write.
‘When I didn’t hear from you, I didn’t know what to do,’ Joel said. ‘So on my first chance, coming back from Cambridge, I went to the house – the Haskins’ house in Whitton, and asked after you. I saw her, the lady – Mrs Haskin, I suppose it was. She confirmed that you’d gone, but wouldn’t tell me anything else. I got very short shrift, I’m afraid, so I was none the wiser.’ He paused. ‘What did I do to you, Lily – that you should write to me as you did? Tell me. I thought, truly, that you were coming to care for me, and I know I wasn’t mistaken. But then you wrote ending it all, saying we could have no future together, that we were worlds apart. But that wasn’t true. We did have a future. I know we did. Did you have another reason for writing as you did? Was it me? It must have been.’
She could not keep her silence at this. ‘Oh, no!’ she breathed. ‘Oh, no, it wasn’t you at all.’
‘Then, what?’
After a moment she turned her face to him. ‘Please – I can’t talk of that time, not just now.’ She shook her head. ‘Please – don’t ask me.’
He sat frowning, gazing at her with a look of puzzlement, then after a moment he said with a nod, ‘Whatever you say. I’ve got no right to question you.’ He picked up his teacup, slowly drank from it and set it down again. ‘So,’ he said, adding a deliberate, lighter note to his voice, ‘tell me what’s been happening to you. You say you’re now living in Sherrell.’
‘Yes.’ She was on safer ground here. ‘I’m lodging on Aspen Lane with a Miss Balfour. She’s an ex-headmistress of a school in Shalford. She’s been very kind to me, and has helped me enormously.’ She paused, then added with a faint touch of pride in her voice, ‘And today I got a position as governess.’
‘You’re to be a governess!’ He beamed at her. ‘Oh, that’s wonderful news. I know how much you’ve wanted to teach. That’s splendid.’
‘Yes!’ Her joy sounded in her tone. ‘I’ve been to Little Patten just today, for an interview. A lawyer and his wife – Mr and Mrs Acland – they have two children. I’m to start my duties in a fortnight. I found lodgings there too, just a little distance from the house.’