The Cursed Hill (Rick Thane Series Book 1)

Chapter 2 An Annoying Journey

The following day, on the 18th of October, which was set to be another cold, wet and windy one, I had my planned route to venture out of London. My first stop was to London's Euston station by tube, then from there, connect to an overground service to Preston. Then once I arrived to catch a connecting train to Burnley Manchester Road. I was due to arrive at half-four that afternoon, but there were lots of delays to the line on my way to Preston; as track-works were taking place somewhere near Birmingham, that was causing disruptions. And somewhere between a rock and a hard place, screaming children and snoring old people, the train had literally stopped.

Rain lashed at the windows, and carried on strong winds from the east, adding to a headache that was starting to form because of the warm carriage. I stared out at the greenery to my side and saw an impressive yet depressing landscape. Though the lands were lush and green, where trees dotted the fields and black and white cows were laying down for comfort, the sky was abysmal. It was a large, dark grey mass and looked dismal. The grey looked like it was glued to the sky. But in any case, I was grateful that I managed to get a window seat on the left of the carriage.

Having no one to talk to as I left Edgar in London, it was relatively quiet, which I was thankful for. I noticed that a lot of the other passengers were either dozing or reading a book or magazine. And that screaming baby three seats in front had finally quietened. There were a few families or couples who were talking, but they were whispering. That's what I liked about the British. They aren't loud on public transport.

There was a collective groan as the conductor explained why we had stopped but that a trolley with drinks and snacks will be around for everyone. After half an hour, when the trolley of hot drinks and cold snacks came by me for the second time, I asked for a coffee and a Snickers bar. I figured I was going to be delayed a long time, and I was growing hungry. I checked my watch; it was nearly four o'clock. I was going to be extremely late for the Harbridge family.

"That'll be £2.15," the snacks assistant said, handing me my hot drink and a chocolate bar.

"Wow, extortionate prices for someone who is delayed and is missing out on hourly paid work," I said with a sickening smile. "Thanks."

She was unsure of what to say to me, and I thought I heard her mutter an apology before toddling off to the next person.

Sometime later, when my coffee had been drunk and my Snickers bar munched on, one of the train staff walked into the car. Lots of people, including one rather attractive lady who I'd only noticed was sitting opposite me, called out to him with the same question: "How long will it be before we get to Preston train station?"

The balding man who wore a wine-coloured uniform with black pants and shiny black shoes shrugged in a way that suggested he was sorry but didn't care. "I'm sorry; we are trying to find out that information. When the conductor knows, he'll pass on that information. We just have to sit tight for a little bit longer."

"I don't suppose you guys have any sleeping bags?" I asked as he went by; he ignored my comment and went into the next car.

The lady in the seat opposite me caught my attention, and she smiled. "I don't have a sleeping bag, but I have a tent." She flicked her long, straight, dark hair away from her ears, flashing her delicate earrings that were in the shape of a cross. She was quite an attractive woman of porcelain appearance with full lips that were touched slightly of a light red shade which looked natural. Though what I found striking was her large brown curious eyes.

Unperturbed by her looks, I gave her a casual smile in reply. "There's a field outside we could pitch it in," I replied, and she giggled. "It's full of cows, but that's never stopped me before. So, I guess you go on a lot of trains that break down, especially if you have a tent."