The Connoisseur

Chapter 10 - Dreaming

Sophia stared out of the window as the English countryside flew past.  She’d long since given up trying to win back territory from the big man sat next to her, who occupied half of her leg room as well as his own.  She scowled as he opened a packet of crisps and started munching.  Only an hour until the train reached home, she thought, huddling further into her seat.  A very, very long hour.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket – thank god it was the pocket facing away from him.  She excavated it from her jeans, allowed herself a smile when she saw who was calling, and answered.

“Hey, Alex.”

“Good morning, Miss Deveaux.  How are you?”

“I’ve been better.”  Sophia huddled closer to the window.  “And it’s three in the afternoon.”

“Ah, I’m sorry, I’m getting my timezones mixed up.  The sun’s coming up over Manhattan, and it’s rather beautiful.  It inspired me to call you.”

She rolled her eyes, but kept smiling.  “Where are you then?  Penthouse at the top of the Empire State?”

“No.  I’m afraid it hasn’t been built yet.”

“Oh, of course.  And somehow you still have signal.”

“I do indeed.  I’m looking out over New York Harbour towards Liberty Island.  They’re about to put the head on a certain famous statue.  I was wondering if you’d care to join me.”

Sophia opened her mouth to speak, but stopped short.  She looked out of the window at the flat fields of England, the winter sun already setting.  The man next two her kept crunching his crisps.  They smelled of e-numbers.

“You can come along this moment, if you wish,” continued Alexander in her ear.  “Any door.  1886 awaits.”

Crunch crunch crunch.

“No,” said Sophia.  She bit her lip.  “I’m sorry.  Let me...”

Crunch crunch.

Sophia put the phone down.  “Excuse me,” she said to the passenger.  “Can you let me out?”

He looked at her – crunch – and nodded, standing aside.  Sophia swept down the aisle to the empty vestibule. 

“Still there?” she said into her phone.

“Still here.  So is President Cleveland.  He says hello.”

“Okay.  Er, hello Mr President.”

Alexander laughed.  “Don’t worry, he’s not really there.  No one is.  I think they’d try and patent this phone if they were.  Are you sure you won’t come?  There’s going to be a grand celebration later on.”

Sophia lurched as the train rolled around a corner.  Home was close, and her family, and her familiar room.  “I’m sure.  It’s not that I don’t want to, I’d love to go somewhere again with you.  But it’s just that...”

“I understand.”

“You do?  I’ll explain anyway.  I feel like I should.”

“Of course.”

She ran a hand through her hair.  “I’d like it to be an event.  It’s not for me to tell you how to sweep me off my feet, but I’m on a loud, sweaty train, I have been for the last three hours, and it doesn’t feel like the moment to go off on a romantic trip to New York, even if it is just through a door.  Let’s do this properly, and go on a date.”

“I see.”

“Then name the date and the time.”

“Tomorrow evening, 8pm?”