Waiting always waiting
We were a bit of a fraud because we weren’t really waiting. It was a strange room in a lot of ways but getting to it was even stranger. There were two wide double doors that led from the pavement to the Ticket Hall. Once through these you went to the left hand corner where on the wall there was a crooked sign. Even at age 7 I could see that I wasn’t a lady and that we were not waiting for a train.
“That signs been there since the 30’s, pay no attention, things is different now.”
We went through a wide doorway and there was a flight of stairs. The smell reminded me straight away of the toilets in the market next door to the station. Bleachy. The handrail for the stairs was the same colours as that old sign and felt like glass. I held my nose with right hand, the rail with left and bounced up the stairs two at a time.
“You be careful what yer doing and don’t knock that old Lady over.” I looked up. Sure enough an old Lady was descending those stairs very carefully on my side. My mum had gone up the right hand side. Above her head was another sign “Keep to the right.” I swapped to my other side. What a nuisance, only one stair at a time now. Following me mum. We got to the top and there was a dull ‘once bright’ orange sign for Lyon’s Tea and another one saying McVities. Ah my favourite thing… Food!
“Go and get a seat near the winder and keep outa trouble.”
The windows were very large and painted Green. The sort of green that model Trainsets used for the locos. Without mum knowing I had been down to the white bridge to see the trains. They were all painted Black and were very drab. It was a lovely sunny day and there was a nice breeze blowing in. I looked over to the Cafe and my Mum was in a queue waiting to be served. There was the clinking of cups, and the soothing sound of steamy water being poured. The rasping slide of plates and the unforgettable aroma of coffee. Oh well, sit and be good. I hoped it would be Tea and one of those lovely Chocolate biscuits that were wrapped in the silver foil stuff. I liked the Blue ones and me Mum liked the Red ones. I liked getting the tin foil and smoothing all those little folds and creases out by rubbing it circularly with a hanky.
I heard a train coming. The chuff, chuff, of a steam loco was magical. The train was slowing; you could hear its rhythm slowing down. The driver issued a short blast on the engine’s whistle. Just to warn of its approach. The chuff, chuff, was slow now but a nice constant sound and then something magical happened through that open window came great billows of cloudy steam in time with the song of the engine. With it came a wonderful smell of hot burning coals and steamy hot metal and oil. And a squeal as the engine halted. “Sssssssssssss” was its sigh.
My Mum arrived with a battered old wooden tray with two cups and saucers and a plate with a red and blue on it.
“Can I have a penny for a platform ticket?”
“No, the train will only be three of four minutes and then it will be off. I would rather you drank your tea whilst its hot, sides we should be relaxing after all that shopping. “Okay Mum!”
Page | 1Monday, 07 March 2016Ver. 1
