Read Page 17

Thank God the trains are running today. It took hours to get home yesterday and I don't want to be out on the streets any longer than I have to be tonight. It only took a few minutes to get from the square to the station and I didn't have to wait long for a train. Christ knows what Tina's going to say to me tomorrow if I go back to work. I could call her from my mobile now and explain what's happened but I don't want to. I don't want to speak to anyone. I just want to get home.

There are just three carriages on this train. There can't be any more than twenty people on board. I've found myself a seat as far away from everyone else as possible. This is literally the last seat on the train, right at the very back of the third carriage. There are two other people in here with me. They're both nearer the front, one on either side of the aisle. I find myself trying to watch them constantly, scared that one of them might turn because as long as the train is moving I'm trapped in here with them. Now and then I see one of them look around. They're as anxious as I am. My stomach is churning and I feel like I'm going to throw up. I don't know whether it's the movement of the train or nerves that's making me feel sick.Advertisement

We're pulling into the last station before home. Christ, I hope no-one gets on here. I've got my mobile phone in my hand and I have had since I got on. I want to call Lizzie and tell her I'm on my way back but I can't bring myself to do it. How stupid is that? I don't want to talk out loud because I don't want to attract any attention to myself. I don't want to do anything that's going to give the other passengers any reason to even look at me.

The train slows down and stops. I look out onto the platform (trying not to make it obvious that I'm staring) and watch as a handful of people shuffle quietly towards the train doors. One person from this carriage gets up and gets off and another passenger arrives. It's a man in a long grey trench coat with a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. I do everything I can to avoid making eye contact with him but I have to keep watching. I have to see where he's going. Is he coming this way? Shit, he is. I quickly look down at the floor now, desperate not to let him know that I was watching. Is he still coming towards me? Is he getting closer?

He's stopped. I'm sure he must have stopped and I can't believe how relieved I suddenly feel. Christ, this is stupid. Am I paranoid? Am I the only one acting this way? I can't believe I am. Very, very carefully and moving very, very slowly I allow myself to look up and around again. The train judders and jolts as it shunts out of the station and I cautiously pull myself up using the back of the seat in front of me for support. The newly arrived passenger is sitting halfway down the carriage on the other side of the aisle. He looks like he's deliberately put as much distance between me and the third passenger as he can. Thank God.

I press my head against the window and watch the familiar sights and landmarks rush by. It all looks the same but everything feels different this afternoon.

Not far now. Almost home. pqdm.com