Chapter One - Midnight Train

She was leaving on the midnight train. On her own.

It was a chilly evening, but dry. The threatened rain hadn't arrived yet and for that she was grateful. Dragging her bag along to the station in the rain would have been just too much. But the occasional spit of rain was carried on the swirling breeze and she shivered as she stood on the platform waiting for the train. The warm summer evenings had given way already to the cooler autumnal nights without her noticing until now. She realised her wardrobe hadn't quite kept pace and the thin cotton wrap she wore on top of her dress wasn't up to the job for a late September night.

Autumnal. She like the taste of that word and rolled it round in her mouth a few times to try it for size. It was like smooth warm honey she decided.

Startled out of her daydream (can you have those at night, she wondered), she realised she'd said the word out loud by mistake. She looked round to see if anyone had heard. Mercifully they were all to far away. That was the peril of using her headphones to immerse herself in her music and escape reality. Every once in a while, she forgot that the sounds were only in her head and that what she thought would be covered by the background noise was, in fact, crystal clear to the rest of the world. At least she'd cured herself from singing along – well, most of the time anyway. The world, she decided, would just need to put up with the occasional exclamation or laugh from her otherwise silent self. They could just add it to the other ways in which they felt she was not quite of them.

For her it was a small price to pay for the refuge her musical world had given her. The ability to close herself off into an entirely private space, sometimes shutting out even her own thoughts if need be, was an escape she was not willing to use. It had kept her sane, despite appearances to the contrary she thought wryly.

It was strange to see the platform, normally so busy and full of activity, still and largely empty. It was as if the station were some beleaguered host battling sleep in order to keep one eye half open to see off those last few lingering guests before finally wending his weary way to bed. The town had been like that too. Empty streets and dark shop windows. The occasional person straggling home from the pub, and the breeze whipping up the dust and other remains of the day to dance round her ankles as she rattled her bag along the pavement. Even the ticket barriers at the station that during the day whirred and clicked sternly at passing travellers, stood open and uncaring, yawning her through with an unsettling indifference.

So now she stood on the near empty platform in the chill wind of the midnight hour and waited for the train that was to take her away. Away from this town and that it had meant to her. As she stood and waited, she realised even the town had turned its back on her. The indifference of the turnstiles echoed in the shuttered doorways and blank faces of dark buildings.

Her train pulled in. She stepped on board, took a last look back at her home for the last 5 years and then returned the favour, showing her back to it as firmly as it now turned from her. She didn't notice the single light flicker on high above in the building opposite the station. A solitary gleam saluting her leaving.

The train doors closed and she was gone. The wind sighed a last goodbye as the train slid out of the station into tomorrow. The light flickered off and the town slept again.