Her gentle chiding brings a wide smile to his face, and the way he sees her bite her lip makes him want to lean in and kiss her again. He doesn't though, rather standing there and watching her get in the cab, not heading off into the train station until he sees the car disappear from view.

On the train, he wonders if that's that. But he hopes it isn't, he hopes she doesn't too. He'd understand why, of course. Part of him suspects that as time wears off, she'll sink back to thinking it'd be a folly to contact him, silly to imagine such a thing. Because that's how she was, isn't it?

So about an hour into his train journey, he pulls his phone out and sends a text message.

Really glad those trains were cancelled last nite