Shadow in the North

Chapter Twenty-One - The Man at the Station

'Oh! so that is the fellow Isabel has a fondness for! My, he appears to be a frightful fellow; it's no wonder that our little Isabel likes him, for she has about her an unseemly pungency of character.'

'Frederick!' scolded Margaret. 'Isabel is very kind; she is only a little wilful and independent.'

'She is certainly not comely.' Seeing his sister's frown, 'Oh! to look upon, she is bewitching, but her manners - do not let her nurture that independent streak of your own, dear sister. You have it in just the right measure - Isabel, I fear, has too much of it. No! I see now why it is that she finds herself drawn to such an unprepossessing sort of fellow, for only one such as he could harness her. Let us go to the ticket office now; I don't wish to delay you in this darkness, my darling.' And so they made their way back up towards the platform, and Margaret left Frederick hidden in the shadows, whilst she presented herself proudly at the ticket office, purchasing the fare to Liverpool. She caught the curious glances of the station master and a few idle young men who had reclined languidly upon benches, whilst awaiting their train, and lifted her chin in her defiant and haughty manner, as though daring them to question her presence at that darkened station.

Isabel stood back, in an isolated corner of the platform, at the far end from the ticket office and the waiting passengers. She looked cautiously for Leonards, believing that he would appear not long before the train to Liverpool arrived, but when she heard a voice; the speaker sounded as though he was drunk - his speech somewhat slurred - and she knew, instinctively, that she had happened upon Leonards.

'Evenin', there, miss,' leered Leonards, his voice crowing from behind her. She looked up at him; yellowed-teeth and crooked nose, and noticed immediately the strong smell of alcohol and the dirty staining to his porter's uniform. He had about him, in his glazed eyes, a look she found unsettling, and she was not easily unsettled.

'I require no assistance from you, porter,' replied Isabel, in a deceptively even voice, as she attempted to portray the serenity of character she knew could be found in Margaret. 'As you can see, I have no luggage.'

'What's a little lady like you doin' travellin' alone and in the dark, then?'

'I am not alone; my companion is purchasing my ticket.'

'And you stand here in the dark,' said Leonards, with a low sneer, stepping closer. She tensed, her hands instinctively clenching into fists, as her heart began to race with nervous excitement.

'Have you no work to do, porter? You are bothering me,' came her haughty reply, but it was merely an outward appearance. Inwardly, she began to panic.

'I'm only thinkin' of your safety, miss - alone here, in the dark, with men about.' And he took another step closer. The threat was visible, and Isabel stepped quickly to one side, but Leonards caught her movement and grabbed at her. She felt his fingers curl about her arms and she tried to push him off, but his grip was cruel, biting into her skin, and so she could only shove at him roughly as she cried out in alarm. He tottered on his heel - head thick with drink - and fell backwards, tumbling off the edge of the platform and onto the track. Moving hastily away, Isabel left him lying in the darkness, and hurried towards Margaret and Frederick, just as the train was pulling into the station.

'Hurry! Hurry!' implored Isabel, in a panting breath, taking brother and sister by alarm. 'I believe I have seen Leonards - working as a porter. Frederick, you must go into the carriage at once and not be seen.' Isabel stood back, allowing the parting siblings the chance to whisper a few private words of farewell, before the carriage door was shut up, and the train pulled away, leaving Margaret and Isabel on the deserted platform. 'We must be off, Margaret. At once! We cannot be found here.' They hurried towards the exit, keeping to the shadows, as a man stood talking with the station master.