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It had been a weird day even before Jerome rang, nothing had done what was expected, Bob was on time and the sun had shone, Lucy looked dazed as she hung up the receiver As the last customer left, Jerome sighed. Another day had come and gone with too little profits to pay even the electricity, never mind the rent on the shop.
Jerome counted the day’s pitiful takings and began to lock up. The silence of the shop had never really bothered him; Jerome felt much easier on his own than with a crowd, but not when the silence meant that there was no-one paying to keep him in business.
Sullenly, he turned out the main light & turned on the window display. Hundreds of little diamonds sparkled as the bright lights played through them.
The shop door creaked as it shut. Jerome locked it and walked out into the rain. Jerome drew his coat around him as the wind and rain hit him.
The street was quiet, as could be expected at eight o'clock. He turned out of the Hareford Street and on to Lincoln Road, where the busy traffic splashed water on to the pavement beside him.
There he stood for a second trying to remember if the cupboard had anything worth eating in it, or if he would have to visit the supermarket on the corner. A quick look in his wallet confirmed his suspicion that the bank would only stretch to food if he did not want to go home by train.
Even more sullenly than before, Jerome walked on towards the train station. The rain and continual splashing of car on the road were not doing anything to lighten his mood.
He passed a book shop on the way and decided to have a look inside because, although the wallet might not stretch to the latest Jeffery Archer, Jerome hoped that the rain might have lessened by the time he returned to the road.
After a few minutes of pretending to look for something whilst knowing that the shopkeeper was staring intently at him, Jerome decided to try his chances outside again, and left the shop.
There he found the rain to have redoubled its efforts and was rapidly forming puddles on the pavement. Quickly, Jerome walked the last hundred yards to the train station and its shelter.
Inside the station was dull. Not only dull, but draughty with it. The air caught him and he clutched his coat tighter to him. He walked, slowly, over to the ticket office in the wall and bought a ticket.
George handed him his ticket after taking Jerome's money and sat silently behind the desk. George and Jerome only knew each other because during the late nights, when the trains were late, they would often chat and swap a joke or two. At least Jerome thought his name was George, I might not be, but he had never been corrected.
Tonight, however, George seemed more withdrawn and did not seem as responsive as he normally did. Jerome put this down to the fact that George had recently been declared redundant, as had the entire station. George ad spent most of the previous night telling Jerome about the letter he had received, and his views on British Rail. Oddly enough, his opinion of British Rail was still considerably higher that of the rest of the country.
Sensing that George wished to be left alone, Jerome walked through the stone archway, on to the platform to wait for his train.
The train was late, but as Jerome saw it, that was par for the course. Jerome sat down on a wooden bench to wait for the train.
Beside him lay a discarded newspaper which was sprawled appealingly across the remainder of the bench. Glancing around and seeing no-one else on the platform, Jerome gathered up the paper into its more usual order, and looked down at the front page. He had barely begun when the train arrived.
Taking the paper with him, Jerome boarded the train and sat in the end carriage.
Opposite Jerome sat an unshaven man in a dishevelled coat, clutching a small bottle and staring out of the window. But, apart from him, the carriage looked exactly like any other, except that the graffiti was different.
The man showed no reaction to Jerome's presence in the carriage, but took a drink from the bottle and continued to stare out of the train window.
Jerome sat silently for a moment or two, then turned to pick up the paper which he had placed beside him. As he did so though, he caught a glimpse of a girl rushing into the station.
It was only a glimpse, but it was enough to make him stop and watch her. As Jerome starred through the window, the girl rushed on to the train. She was just in time because as she did, the train began to move. Behind the girl, Jerome saw a man was running after her, but he quickly disappeared as the train pulled out of the station.
Jerome was about to return to reading the newspaper, when the door to the carriage opened and the same girl walked in.
She walked silently over to the far side of the carriage and sat on a seat facing him. As she sat there, Jerome had a good chance to look carefully at her.
She was medium height, had blamed hair and seemed to be in her mid 20's, not unlike Lucy, but blond with an almost ginger shine, and many more freckles. She seemed quiet agitated and kept folding and unfolding a piece of paper in her hands, whilst at the same time staring out of the window and mumbling something indiscernible to herself.
She had been crying, Jerome noticed. Such pretty blue eyes were not meant to cry, thought Jerome.
Transfixed, he continued to watch her for some time, until a flash of lightning illuminated the carriage and broke his trance.
Jerome turned round to look through the window behind him, conscious of how obviously he had been staring at her.
Jerome sat and gazed out of the window for a couple of minutes as village after village raced by.
A movement made Jerome's gaze return to the carriage. The girl had left and was quickly walking up the carriage.
Jerome noticed that she had left behind the piece of paper which she had been clutching so tightly. He picked up the note, and ran up the carriage to give it her, at least that would give him a chance to talk to her.
She had already reached the front carriage, and Jerome began to wish that he had taken more exercise recently. Seeing that the girl had stopped, Jerome slowed his pace to a fast walk and began to think about what he would say to this girl who had so hypnotized him without a single word.
When he reached the last carriage a cold blast of air hit him and made him look around for its source.
He was just in time to see the girl throw herself through an open door, and a moment later saw her body bowl down the embankment.
Feeling shocked at the girls impetuous action, Jerome shut the open door and returned down the train to his seat.
Jerome's other companion - the man in the dishevelled coat - had gone, but Jerome did not really notice. His eyes drifted aimlessly about the carriage whilst he wondered why such a lovely girl should want to kill herself.
His gaze finally alighted on the newspaper which had fallen to the floor with Jerome's hasty departure, and now lay open on an inside page.
Staring back at him from the page was a picture of the girl he had just seen throwing herself from the train.
"Girl throws herself from speeding train" the headline read. "'Don't want to be under your thumb', this was the last message from Louisa Martin, 26, who yesterday morning jumped from the 4:50 train ...."
Stunned, Jerome stopped reading and opened the folded scrap paper which Louisa had left behind.
Those same seven words confronted him and, as Jerome finished reading, the sheet dissolved quietly away into nothing.
Jerome returned to the newspaper, and began to shake violently as he realised what he had just seen. Or had he?