'You want platform 3 for the London train, love,' the taxi driver said as I scrambled out onto the pavement. 'no rush - you've got five minutes.'
The bag seemed to have got heavier and I was puffing a bit as I settled down into my seat. The young man opposite smiled pleasantly.
'Just made it,' I panted 'that's the story of my life.'
The station building began to slowly glide backwards and we were on our way.
'Goodbye Leeds.' I waved.
'You seem glad to be getting away.' The young man said
'You can say that, again, I shan't be going back there.'
'It is a bit of a dump, I suppose, but it's been my home for the last 18 years.'
'Sorry, I didn't realise.' I muttered
He smiled and started to read a thick red paperback.
As the train sped on towards London, I got to thinking about my mum and dad and how I had not said goodbye that morning. What can you say at times like this? Words spoken never really help and anyway there had been too many of those already. So I'd left a simple little note on my bed 'I love you both and pray someday that you will understand.' I wrote
Bedford slipped by. The young guy opposite looked at his watch and said. 'I hate weddings, don't you?'
Startled a little by his candour I asked 'Aren't weddings supposed to be happy times?'
'You've got to be kidding,' he replied 'there are more fall-outs at weddings than any other events. Give me funerals anytime; everybody seems to get on at funerals.'
'Are you going to a wedding, by any chance,' was the only sensible thing I could think of to say.
'Yes, my mother is tying the knot again, tomorrow, and she wants me to be there.'
'I see.' I said
He looked at his watch and stood up.
'Will you keep an eye on my stuff for a minute?' he asked
I watched him weave his way past various bits of luggage and other passengers to disappear through the door at the far end of the carriage.
He'd left the book he was reading lying on the table. The train stopped at Watford and a few more passengers got on, then when we were on our way again I couldn't help noticing a couple across the aisle having an agitated conversation, obviously by the way the man kept looking in my direction, it had something to do with me. I smiled at them.
'Excuse me, miss,' he said 'Will your friend be back soon?'
I couldn't think why they would ask, but felt compelled to say something.
'I expect so; he's probably queuing for a drink or something.'
'Yes, I said.' The woman smiled 'My husband is getting into a state about your friend's rucksack.'
Her husband looked sheepish
'Well, you can't be too careful, but if he's with you I suppose it's all right.' He blustered
'He's not with me,' I felt myself blushing 'he just asked me to watch his stuff.'
'Do you mind if I take a look?'
'I shouldn't' I said ' he might not like it and anyway I know it's OK.'
But the man wasn't satisfied
'I'll get somebody.' he said.
When he'd gone his wife shrugged 'Eric's like that; a real whittler, always has been.'
Eric soon returned with a man in an ill fitting uniform and a huge cap bearing a guard's badge.
'Do you know what's in that bag, miss?' the guard waved towards the rucksack sitting harmlessly on the seat opposite.
'I haven't a clue. I was asked to watch it, that's all.'
'How long has it been left unattended?'
'About 30 minutes.' Eric said before I could speak.
The guard looked at me suspiciously
'And the rucksack's owner is a friend of yours.' he said slowly
'He is not my'¦'
At that moment, to my immense relief the young guy came back.
'Something amiss?' he asked resuming his seat.
'Is that your rucksack, sir?' the guard asked. The young man nodded.
'Well, you shouldn't leave it like that. I was just going to evacuate the train and get it blown up.'
'I'm glad you didn't; it's got my sandwiches in it and I'm starving. And there's my mother's wedding prezy too.'
'Well be careful in future,' the guard said sternly.
We were pulling in to St. Pancras and he everyone began to collect their possessions together.
'What a carry on,' the young man laughed 'it's a good job they didn't see my book?' he held it aloft; it was entitled 'Journeys End.'
That made me laugh.
'You and me could be such good friends in different circumstances.' I thought.
The train slowed. The station was crowded. The young man remained seated, obviously waiting for me to make the first move.
'I'll get that.' He said, reaching for my bag.
My heart raced; such a lovely boy ; what a great pity.
The brakes finally brought us to a halt and with the tears streaming down my face I reached under my coat and pressed the switch on the detonator.
Nothing happened, just a dull click.
I pressed it again. Nothing. Then again. Nothing.
'Is anything the matter?' the young man asked.
'Yes, It's that stupid Aziz and his wiring again.' I replied

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