Train Traps

“There’s nothing that can be done, sir. You’re going to have to wait until the next station where we can open the left side doors.”

The voice laboured its way over the tannoy of the packed train. It was the morning commute and today the rough passage over the rails was not the only reason a lot of the passengers were shifting uncomfortably. In fact, the part of the train which seemed to vibrate the most was that closest to the left side door, or to be more accurate, closest to the last passenger to have boarded the train, Arthur Stone.

“What do you mean there’s nothing you can do. Open the bloody doors so I can pull my bag strap from them. It’s just a button you have to press. It’s not so damned hard.”

Arthur Stone was turning red faced from the exertion of holding down the carriage intercom buzzer with a frenzied force.

“Sir, I appreciate these is frustrating,” the train driver’s voice was calmly infuriating. “But I cannot open the doors for health and safety reasons. The next platform is on the right side. Regulation prohibits me from opening the left side doors.”

“Oh for crying out loud no one’s going to jump out out of the bloody thing.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I will open them at the next available opportunity.”

An extended electronic noise ended the conversation.

“Can you believe this?” Stone said loudly.

He glanced around the carriage but his fellow passengers were on their phones with a few exception reading books. Either object provided ample opportunity to dodge Stone’s desire to catch their eyes.

Stone muttered expletives and pulled out his own phone. Navigating past his popping email app he opened the calendar app. His next string of expletives caused the woman next him to jump. Stone shot her a dirty look. As he dialled his secretary’s number, another man offered his spot to the woman. It was in the thick of commuters with elbows and armpits at the height of the woman’s face. She thanked the man profusely as they swapped.

Thankfully there was phone service and the voice of his secretary greeted him. As good as she was at her job, he had picked her for her looks. And her age. She was over twenty years younger than him. The age gap was designed to protect him from repeating a regrettable mistake.

“Julia, get a load of this tosh. They’ve trapped me on the train… yes, I said trapped… no, no one’s restraining me, it’s my bag… yes, my bag. It’s stuck in the door and the bugger behind the wheel won’t bother opening it… it’s not a slight inconvenience, Julia. It’s a bloody catastrophe. I have the meeting with Satchal Investments…no, I can’t leave my bag here. Don’t be ridiculous... I can’t carry it’s contents, Julia, that why I use a bag…yes, well good for you...Okay, can we get to it now...yes, the meeting…no, we can’t cancel so get the team to stall. See if you can get Jeremy to present his idea...yes, I know what I called him but we need to keep the clients there until I get in so let’s just do it...okay...okay, and Julia, find out what stations the left hand doors of my train open...I don’t know call someone!”

With that he hung up. He could not he be late for his Satchal Investments meeting, not for a deal like this. He’d made sure to take the earlier train so what on earth had he done to deserve this? He was a few stops from the office now but, try as he might, he couldn’t remember which side the doors opened. It had better be the left side one.

“Does anyone know what side the next station’s doors open? Hello, I’m speaking here.”

No one seemed to know. Or more accurately said, no one wanted to talk to the agitated bald man on the stuffy, morning train. Damn these phones, Stone thought, it was too easy to hide behind them. He would just have to speak louder.

“No we don’t, mate,” said the man in a suit and pea-coat close to him, finally. “And it doesn’t make a difference, if you’re stuck you’re stuck.”

He was taller than Stone, more thickset around the shoulders than Stone and he would be able to get off whenever his station arrived. Stone wasn’t sure what was more enviable, that or his full set of hair. Before Stone could decide and adjust his riposte accordingly the man had pulled out a defence even more devastating than a phone. He placed the large pair of headphones over his lavish locks and filled the carriage with the muffled thump of bass beats.

Stone couldn’t believe the rudeness. He reached out to try and tap the other man on the shoulder but couldn’t reach, something was holding back his leg. All he managed was to bustle his cramped neighbours.

“Oi! Stop it.”

“What do you want, man?”

“I want to speak to him!” Stone said, pointing.

“And does he want to speak to you?”

“Mind your bloody business will you.”

To the dismay and shouts of the crowd, Stone lunged forward, reaching out towards the man with headphones. He stretched out his arm and winced at the effort. His hand was almost at the brute’s shoulders. Just a couple more inches. Now it was touching, it had to be. Surely he could feel it. But the man did not react and Stone could not reach any further. Something wrapped around his leg held him back.

When the train lurched to a stop, it was again the wrong doors that opened. This was Stone’s stop. And also that of the man in the suit with headphones. And most people in suits for that matter.

“Excuse me,” said the woman, the one who had previously traded places away from Stone. The train had started again and it was considerably more empty. He could see more clearly what he took to be a colourful, distasteful blouse that only just managed to round her midriff and disappear into a pair of boring black trousers.

“Excuse me,” she said again. “But your bag. It seems that actually you’re just-”

“I know about my bag,” he snapped. “I don’t need to be told, damn you.”

The woman’s jaw dropped and then recovered into a well practised smirk.

“Well then you don’t deserve to know what an imbecile you are being. Unfortunately, I have to be on this train for quite some while so I’d like to know when you’re getting off and when I can get some peace and quiet.”

“Listen you, can’t you see I’m stuck! And, not that you’d understand, but I’m also missing a meeting of the upmost importance, you-” He searched for the right insult but his anger tripped him up which gave the woman time to scramble away to the safety of a nearby seat. Fat cow. That was what he had needed. Fat cow, why had he realised the insult so late. He realised too many things too late it seemed.

“Tell me you’ve got good news, girl,” he barked into his phone when Julia rang. “A dozen stops?… what do you mean a dozen stops. That’s ridiculous!...I can’t just leave it, there’s valuables inside...yes, I know I’ve said it’s an important meeting and it bloody well is...okay, maybe I can abandon my bag. How is the meeting going?...what do the mean the team is trying?...well, that’s not going to cut it. This is Satchal we’re talking about...Look, Julia, just find a way to get me out of here...I don’t know how, think of something. I can’t lose this brief.”

He clicked the button to hang up and at the same time was pressing down the train’s intercom. Time was running out to get to that board room and save the deal. He should have hired better people though management no longer trusted him with that after what had happened.

“Train driver, speaking. What’s your emergency?”

“You know what’s my bloody emergency. Open the bloomin’ doors.”

A sigh.

“Sir, we’ve been through this. I can’t do that.”

“Yeah, well what we haven’t been through is that there are twelve stops until a station with a left hand door, which you obviously knew and kept quiet.”

A pause.

“It’s eleven stops now, sir.”

“You bastard. Open the bloody doors! Open the...hello...hello!”

But there was only static on the other end. Stone grappled with the button suddenly fuming that he might have broken it. There was another one on the other side of the carriage, hovering tantalisingly close to the opening doors. This time they let on a group of young, laughing people. Great. Students. As if he needed to be reminded of his lateness and straddled with this lazy group of society. One of them, a girl with a freckled face and more earrings than Stone had ever seen, even possessed the audacity to walk up to him. It was something Deborah might have done. It surprised Stone that he was thinking of her but after all, this student was probably the same age as he and Deborah had been when they first met.

“Excuse me, but you seem to be standing on your-”

There was something in her voice, an assurance and a kindness. It was the same traits Deborah had had, well probably still had, in her voice. He was in no mood for the memories.

“Oh just piss of, will you.”

“What the hell, man.”

There was a group of them. He had made a mistake. There were a few boys and the girl was pretty enough for them to act. He saw them round on him. A couple were considerably larger than him. Of course there were, students had nothing to do so they just lazed around in the gym. Though Stone dared not voice that comment out loud.

They were interrupted by a giggle from the freckled girl. Somehow, the fat cow from earlier had managed to lift her ample backside from her seat, hobble over and whisper something into the girl’s ear. Almost as great a miracle as the cow’s lips not being caught on a stray earrings.

“Lads, leave it,” said the girl. “You’ll never guess what this kind lady’s told me. You’ll love it.”

As Stone watched the boys follow her into the next carriage his thoughts turned to his bag. It must have been the recollection of Deborah that drew his attention to it. After all he had bought it in Venice, though it hadn’t been with her. Could he leave it here? He might still make the meeting. It held his laptop which he could take with him and maybe some of the expensive pens too. The few loose sheets of paper would have to stay but they were just forgotten deals and admin that had gathered over the years. Some might be confidential but who would open a bag and be interested in pieces of paper. Especially inside a luxury bag, even if it was four years old. He’d bought it on a solo trip, his first in over a decade. He would have liked to have taken Max but Deborah hadn’t wanted that and the court had ruled in her favour.

In Venice, everyone else had seemed more well dressed and handsomer than him. The suit jacket he wore didn’t seem to mould his shoulders the way theirs did. He had tried to comfort himself with the knowledge his pay check was likely much larger then theirs. Though that hadn’t gotten him far. It wasn’t just how they looked. They seemed to have the worldly knowledge he so desperately wanted. Too late in life had he learned the things that had a value cash couldn’t buy. It might have been a thought to delve deeper into. Perhaps if he had he there might still have been an opportunity to fight. Instead, he focused on those bags. What a quiet confidence they seemed to give. Yes, that must have been what he was lacking. He theb bought one, the most expensive one he could find.

No, he could not leave it.

“Don’t tell him, please, sir. He’s been odious to everyone on this train ever since he got on. He deserves everything he gets.” The fat cow was talking to someone again, this time a man who Stone did not recognise and seemed to have been making his way towards him. The man shrugged, deciding any form of further conversation was not worth it.

A pram boarded at the next station prompting Stone to swear. Now the mothers were coming on with their useless offspring. He was well and truly late. Was there a way to still save this meeting? It was unlikely. It was then he thought he saw Max. In tow with the mother and her pram was a boy. It wasn’t him despite the boy being about six, Max’s age. Yet, Stone didn’t dare move, as if any sudden movements might scare the thought of his son away. The new boy stared back at Stone.

“Mum,” said the boy, pointing at him. “Why is the funny man standing on his bag like that.”

“Don’t point, honey. I don’t know, perhaps it’s so no one steals it.”

The boys eyes widened.

“Are there robbers on this train.”

“No, of course not.”

Stone watched the boy tussle between relief and disappointment.

“Arthur. Arthur. I’m talking to you.”

He had been watching the boy, trying his hardest to make it seem like he wasn’t. He was unable to say when the attractive, slender girl wearing a trench coat with a belt tightly gripping her waist had come onto the train.

“What are you so distracted by? Oh, is that Max?”

“What? No. Hullo Julia, how the hell did you get here?”

She smiled, pleased with herself.

“I intercepted you. There was a direct train to this station. I thought I’d relieve you. But I see that’s not actually necessary.”

Relieve him? Oh the bag and the meeting. It seemed to matter less now, somehow. Stone would have more meetings. Each month was a procession of them. They were marked in his calendar the way a child’s height was marked in a doorway. Except the calendar entries never seemed to go away.

“No, you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not actually watching him,” Stone said.

“What, are you talking about?”

“The boy- wait, what are you talking about?”

She pointed down at his feet.

“You haven’t really moved, have you.”

The strap of his satchel was wrapped around his leg. He was standing on the end of it. Without the mass of passengers around he could see that no part of it was trapped in the door. He looked around. The fat cow grinned at him flashing him a wave. He suddenly felt very foolish standing in front of his beautiful secretary whilst in the background a woman laughed mirthfully and a child played. Again, his trap had been entirely his own doing.