We'll Get You Home

5 - Lottie

I jolt awake, disoriented. With bleary eyes and a tired mind, I remembered that I'm in a train to London. It's still dark outside, and we aren't moving.

'We apologise for any inconveniences,' A crackly voice says over the intercom, 'but unfortunately there has been a problem with the track further ahead, so there will be a delay until it is fixed.'

I hear a few people groan. Checking my phone, it's still only eight at night. I slump back into my seat and sleep takes me again.

***

Something vibrates in my hand, and I try to ignore it. But the vibration is insistent and makes me come out of my blissful slumber. I'm still in the train cabin. Remembering the vibration, I look down to see my phone in my hand. 5:48 am, it says on the lock screen. And I have a missed call from Ellie. My eyes are rimmed with sleep and I'm so, so tempted to sleep again. This time though, I force myself to sit up, to concentrate on why I'm here and what I need to do next.

Right. The train was stranded. It was delayed. But I see the bustling Paddington station through the window. Hundreds of people walking in and out of trains, sitting on the benches, engaged in phone calls and with cups of coffee in their hands. Meanwhile, this train is almost empty, the few people in it gathered near the exits, waiting to spill out onto the platform.

My stomach growls and I vaguely think that I haven't had anything to eat since lunch yesterday. That's enough motivation for me to scramble up and hurry out onto the platform. The early morning is cold, crisp and fresh, and under the tall domed roof of the station, all the voices, all the beeping horns and wheels on rails blend into an irregularly calm cacophony of normal city life. Tugging my suitcase with me, I somehow make it out without too much fuss. Already there are an abundance of cars about. Yet hardly any of the shops are open in the vicinity. Only one, which has a neon 24hour coffee sign above the entrance illuminating the dawn air. I hurry across the road to it. Inside it's warm, stuffy even. It's also kind of gross. The tables are obviously old, and the barista looks half asleep himself. Thankfully only one of the tables is being used.

As I wait for the barista to finish washing cups, I look around more. Old music's playing in the background. Dim lighting. The man – no, boy, on closer inspection – in the corner is glumly stirring his paper cup with a straw. He yawns and slumps his head on the table. He looks like he needs another coffee. He was probably having a worse day than me.

'How may I help you?' The barista asks me. His shoulder-length hair is tousled and messy, he has stains on his uniform, stubble on his chin and bags under his eyes. He belongs in this old, let down café. He also needs a coffee.

'Good morning. May I have... two cups of triple shot coffee and two muffins please?' No, I'm not having all that. It's for the boy. I'm too tired to be thinking clearly.

The barista eyes me, like he's judging me, but puts my order through the machine. 'Fifteen pounds twenty-four pence. Your order will be done soon.'

I hand him a twenty-pound note, not bothering to count the change. Walking towards the boy, I think of what to say. Hi, have a free coffee. Morning, want a free coffee? You look like you need it.

'Hi. Can I sit here?' I decide to say. The boy – who upon closer inspection is stunningly handsome; golden hair, pale skin, piercing ice blue eyes – nods. 'I – I bought you a coffee. I thought you'd want it. And a muffin. I hope that's okay.'

The boy looks at me. He obviously didn't sleep. His hair is messy, and he had bags under his eyes. 'Thanks.' He says and slumps back down. He doesn't say anything else.

That is getting awkward, so I continue talking. 'I'm Lottie Pumpkin by the way.'

He snorts. Honestly, I'm pretty hurt. 'Sorry, sorry.' He says once he sees my face. 'Keefe.' He answers. 'Sencen.' As if an afterthought.

I smile politely. A tired, awkward silence descends on us. I fiddle with my cardigan. Pull my suitcase closer. Then tap it with my shoe. Pull it closer again. I get distracted from thinking about the awkwardness. And get pulled right into the problem I just very un-princess-like ran away from. For the first time in hours I let myself think about what I'd done. Everyone knew I wasn't the princess. Everyone knew I lied. And instead of acting like a princess, I ran away. I did nothing to solve my problems. I just left that burden for everyone else to deal with. I hug my middle, feeling sick. I feel tears pooling in my eyes. I'm an awful person, aren't I? And buying someone coffee and a muffin doesn't fix that.

If only I'd have been braver. I'd have stayed, and possibly could've talked to Jamie. After he willingly left for Leviathan, nothing – no one – was the same. After I'd failed to tell him the truth. After he thought we'd all betrayed him. The only thing I wanted to do now was apologise. For everything.

If only I'd have stayed. Then I could have made things better. Now I've made things worse. So much worse. I can't come back now. I'm not brave enough. A sob escaped me. It rattles my whole body. The tears spill over, overflowing into a river. Keefe looks at me, startled, concerned.

'I-I'm sorry. I – I didn't mean to.' I say through sobs and sniffs.

'Hey, it's all right.' He speaks. He says it gently, carefully. Like I'm a small deer in the headlights.

I go to stand up. To get away before I embarrass myself even more. But the barista comes with two pairs of coffee and muffin. I sit back down and try to cover my face with my hair, very, extremely embarrassed.

'Thanks.' Keefe says to the barista, who doesn't even smile. 'You okay?' He whispers to me, reaching out a hand.

I nod quickly and wipe away the tears. Deep breaths. Deep, deep breaths. In, out. In, out. It's all right. I should have some coffee. It'll calm me down. After a sip of the still hot drink, I look at Keefe. He's eaten half his muffin and is chugging down his coffee like its water. 'I'm sorry. Again. I didn't mean to cry.' I try to compose myself.

'That's fine. Mmmm! This muffin tastes better than it did... whenever I ate it last. I can't remember when. Thank you so much for this. Literally went broke, so this is awesome. Thanks.' The coffee was already getting to him, I think. He's kind of hyperactive, smiling that beautiful smile.

'No problem. I'm happy I helped.'