Here’s Part 1 of a brand, new story, in which passenger Alex’s longed for journey is sullied by the attentions of a fellow traveller-

The carriage isn’t too full when Alex steps inside the door; better still, there’s a table free. She’s in no doubt that within a couple of stops she’ll be sharing, but for now she can sink into the seat, enjoy her coffee and revel in the luxury of having the space to herself. She doesn’t feel too much like reading, preferring to gaze out of the window and savour the anticipation of the weekend to come, a feeling that eclipses her exhaustion.

For the first two stops, she’s lulled into a false sense of security, then as the train pulls into a larger station, a crowd is waiting on the platform, a mix of students, commuters and holiday makers lugging cases, making for the airport, which is the next station along. Alex sighs as the doors wheeeze open and the first passengers fill the aisle, looking right and left, heaving cases on to racks and sinking into seats; bringing with them an acrid scent of vapes, tarmac and sweat.

She’s staring out when someone slides into the seat across the table. It’s become dark enough to outside to see the man’s reflection as he settles. She can also see that he’s gazing at her. Perhaps she’ll get her book out after all. She turns towards her bag, keeping her face down as she unzips and delves for the book. But the man seizes the chance mid-turn and leans forward to speak.

‘Will I be disturbing you if I get on with my whittling?’

‘Excuse me?’ Alex frowns. What on earth is he talking about? She is obliged to look up and at him then.

‘Will you mind very much if I indulge my hobby while we’re travelling together?’

Travelling together? Alex pulls in her chin and squints at him. He has leaned across to her side so far that she can detect a faint aroma of something like polish and can see the faded grey of his protruding, frog-like eyes. He has thinning, sandy wisps of hair combed over a bald patch and a pale, dry complexion. She suppresses a shudder then shrugs, shakes her head. There’s no time to open her book before he places a bundle on the table between them, his bulging eyes never leaving her face.

‘I can see you’re intrigued!’ he grins, prompting her to frown. He’s unrolling the fabric bundle now. Alex executes a demonstrative opening of her book and plonks it down in the space remaining on her side but he is undeterred, continuing to gaze at her over the table, having revealed the contents of the bundle. She risks a glance at the items displayed: a type of knife, a soft cloth,some woodshavings and a rudimentary, wooden spoon. She’s aware that he’s grinning like he won the lottery, having almost caught her attention. He picks up the spoon and waves it in her face.

‘Know what this is?’ Although she’s adopted and expression of mild irritation now, he’s either failed to notice or doesn’t care. ‘It’s a love spoon, a Welsh love spoon. Have you seen one before?’ Alex’s lack of response fails to halt the deluge of enthusiastic tedium as he describes the tradition of love spoons, how they are Welsh, how young men gave them to their sweethearts as romantic tokens, how he makes them and sells them at craft fairs. The unsolicited flood of facts streams on and on. Alex picks up her book and slumps back. He’s still talking. She leans slightly to the right to ascertain whether there could be an empty seat further along the carriage but it’s busy. When the tannoy announces that they’ll be arriving at the next station she wonders if she’ll be able to move along to the next carriage and find a seat, although as the train pulls in only a handful passengers leave and she can see that the platform is crowded with people waiting. It’s Friday evening after all…

Check in next week to find out if Alex escapes!

Novels: The Year of Familiar Strangers and The Conways at Earthsend aare widely available. Visit my website: janedeans.com