Against The Tide

He is packed, shoulder to shoulder, between two women on the boiling train to King’s Cross. Standing room only. The smell of electricity and irritation swirls around the vestibule, locking his jaw: we have paid our tickets, we deserve a seat. There will be no refunds unless the train is late. The woman on his left is expertly reading a book, leaning back, body swaying with the tracks. Her upper arm, bare and pale, presses into the sleeve of his jacket, in rhythm. The woman on his right is upright, staring at his shoes. Occasionally, she glances sideways and up; at his charcoal suit, his hands, the side of his face. He gazes resolutely at the floor. She thinks he hasn’t seen her looking.

*

The man to my left has ghostly tidemarks on his black brogues. The whole triangle of toe is diluted white. It’s July, but perhaps the shoes haven’t been out since the January gritters: the bringers of salty melt. His suit is dark and inhospitable to his body. I can’t see his wedding finger. The marks might be fresher than winter. Maybe he went for a walk on the beach and misjudged a wave. An accidental paddle. Or it could be whitewash – he’s been helping his mother with her outdoor toilet. His hands are older than his face. I glance at his shirt; wonder where he’s going. He has a smart rucksack between his ankles, nothing else. He is a little translucent, vague. *

The swaying woman keeps up the alternate pressure on his arm. It is utterly without passion for him; she belongs to the tracks. He thinks about vibrations, about beat. The woman on the right is still staring at his shoes. He is used to being looked at – he could come from anywhere – Turkey, Pakistan, Egypt. The media makes sure people look twice. But, unlike the upright woman, most people glance away when he catches their eye. He’ll escape in four minutes, at Sheffield, away from these people, the craziness of mayfly living, people going nowhere, touching their phones, forgetting to listen. She’ll have to stop looking at him then.

*

I realise that the man is gathering himself, drawing energy into his body