The commuter train jolted forward, letting a gust of fresh air sweep through the oilsmelling carriage. A woman with bright, lively eyes kept watching the two youngsters sitting opposite her, a soft approving smile never leaving her face.
You know, sometimes you can see straight away when people are meant for each other! Already married or planning it? she asked, her tone as warm as a summer afternoon.
The young man and woman, each tucked into opposite ends of a threeseat bench, lifted their heads from the screens of their phones. Their eyes met for a heartbeatconfused, questioning. Neither could figure out who she was talking about, and both assumed she meant someone else.
Ah, how wonderfully the world works, the lady continued, settling more comfortably opposite them. Two kindred spirits, open and bright! Such a rarity these days!
Her words hung in the air, unanswered. The woman dived back into her phone, the man stared at his tablet, building an invisible wall around himself. Undeterred, the lady examined the pair like rare exhibits in a museum, nodding to herself in quiet approval.
I bet your children will be absolutely adorable! A little girl, just a copy of her mother, and a boy
Were not a couple, the girl said softly, cheeks flushing, and glanced again at her neighbour.
The mans lips twitched in a restrained smile.
Stop it, youre teasing me! the woman replied with a mischievous grin, but her smile met only a serious, unamused expression from the girl. She then turned her curious gaze to the young man, who finally put the tablet down.
Not together? she prompted, hunting for confirmation in his eyes.
He shook his head silently, shattering her romantic construction.
Oh, what a pity she sighed, crossing her arms and staring out the dusty window at the grey outskirts of London. Where are you looking? Even the little ribbon on the side!
If she hadnt let slip that sharp, cheeky remark, the encounter might have ended as a fleeting glance on a train. Instead, those words fell like tiny stones into the quiet pool of their solitary journeys, stirring a grain of curiosity that neither could ignore.
Tom Harper.
For the fourth time he skimmed the same paragraph on his tablet, unable to grasp its meaning. His gaze drifted, and he caught sight of the stranger beside him again.
Like she stepped out of a glossy poster. Not my usual type, but pleasant to look at.
Tom usually favoured brunettes, the kind his girlfriend Emma likeddark hair, hazel eyes. The auburnhaired girl across the aisle was a different sort, and hed never even considered her as a romance prospect. Yet after the womans blunt comment, she lingered in his thoughts.
Such an unusual look. Direct, open, with a hint of mischief. And that habit of flicking a stray lock of hair away from her face. Shes undeniably pretty, and theres a certain inner glow about her
He paused longer than he ought, unable to look away. Their eyes met, a brief, embarrassed smile lighting both faces before they quickly stared down.
Poppy Greene.
Brilliant start to the day, isnt it? A commuter train and a bespectacled bearded bloke? Why does she think were a pair? To think Id be with someone like that! Im not the sort who finds a scruffy beard fashionable thats just laziness. And honestly, hes far too quiet.
Scrolling through her social feed, Poppy realised she hadnt seen anything else for several minutes except the echo of that womans words. She stole a wary glance at the guy, afraid to be mistaken for flirting.
Hell think Im winking at him!
Their gazes collided again. A faint, almost weightless smile tugged at his lips, and Poppy mirrored it without thinking.
His face is interesting, his stare sharp and intelligent. A shame the beard hides his features. she thought. She waited until he was absorbed in his tablet again before studying him more closely.
Handsome, broadshouldered, looks like he works out. Probably midtwenties, maybe a bit older. Might be in an office, perhaps IT. she mused, eyes lingering on his hands resting on the device.
At that moment their eyes met once more, and this time the smiles that flickered were a little less shy, a touch more aware.
The train let out a long sigh and finally halted, its doors swinging open onto a platform bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun. A tide of passengers surged forward, each looking to claim a few precious minutes of calm before the evening rush. The crowd pushed and shoved, nerves taut as violin strings at the slightest misstep.
In the crush, Poppy was swept onto the platform, while Tom barely made it to the stairwell, stuck in the human whirlpool. He rose onto his tiptoes, desperately scanning the colourful mass for the flash of auburn hair. Poppy, keeping pace, nearly ran across the platform, her heels clicking in time with a foolish, persistent hope: What if I catch up?
Its not meant to be, Tom muttered to himself, moving slowly forward, seeing no sign of her. The thought of a missed connection gnawed at him, perhaps a way to dodge the cracks forming in his relationship with Emma.
He descended into the dim tunnel of the Underground, and, halfheartedly, sprinted the last fifty metres, slipping into the closing doors of the departing carriage. He frozeshe was there.
Hed been watching her from the next stop when she felt his gaze and lifted her eyes. Their looks met again, like old conspirators. He couldnt suppress a grin; she gave a brief nod, a silent acknowledgment of shared understanding.
Poppy.
Ask her why she did itshe wont answer. Not out of secrecy, but because she herself never quite knew. Why get off a stop early? Selfpreservation? Or perhaps the sudden clarity of her own thoughts? After looping around the station concourse, convinced no one was following, she returned to the platform.
Stupid! she scolded herself, fiddling with the strap of her bag. The panic now seemed both absurd and pitiful.
Tom.
Donkey! he mentally chastised himself, hurling an imaginary stone at a trash bin. I should have walked up to her! I should have left with her! What if it really was a sign? And I chickened out!
He stepped off at his stop, drowning his sour reflections in hot toasties at a tiny café near the tube exit.
And then they met again. He was finishing his last bite when she appeared, frozen with her mouth halfopen in astonishment.
Are you following me? Tom managed, a grin breaking free.
Me? Follow you? she replied, a hint of hurt in her tone, as if offended by the accusation. Will you let me pass?
No, he said, his face lighting up with a boyish grin.
Really? her lips curled, wiping away the pretended offense.
They wandered the city streets until dawn, unable to break the strange, magical connection. Both felt theyd finally found the missing half of a longlost soul. Exhausted and elated, they collapsed into a modest hotel room, phones switched off, letting the previous lives stay out of their newlyborn world.
He didnt turn up for work the next morning. She skipped her lectures.
When everyone finally understands what happened to us, theyll forgive this little sin, Tom said, pulling Poppy into a hug as he signed the forms at the registry office.
I think Im losing my mind, she giggled softly, looking at their intertwined names on the official document.
Weve both gone a bit bonkers, Tom echoed, his laughter light and freeing.
They said goodbye at the office doors, promising to meet again that weekend for more madness. But within minutes of parting, both phones buzzed. The old life, with all its debts, obligations, and unfinished business, crashed back in with a rude thud.
Poppy.
What were you thinking, you daft girl?! What do you even know about him? Who are his parents? Whats his background? I never expected my daughter to be so reckless!
She sat, hunchbacked on the sofa, like a schoolgirl caught in a serious misdemeanour, babbling apologies as the voice of her mother echoed doubts.
And he? What does he think of you? Met on a train and straight to the bedroom! her mother huffed.
Mum, we didnt
It doesnt matter! The point isnt that! You know nothing about him! Only God knows what he thinks! How will you live with that?
Mum, were just exhausted and fell asleep
Fool! Simpleton! I never taught you this! her mothers voice cracked. I was with your father for half a year before she stopped, tears welling. She sobbed, collapsing onto the sofa beside her daughter.
Poppy silently hugged her, feeling a hard knot forming in her own throat.
Dont be like that she whispered. I know this feels like madness, like fog.
We need to collect the paperwork, her mother wiped her eyes, taking Poppys face in gentle hands. If hes a good man, hell understand and wait.
Maybe we shouldnt rush? We have time to think, to get to know each other
Do you like him? her mother asked, eyes fixed on Poppys.
Poppy looked away.
Yesterday I probably wouldnt have even noticed him.
Exactly! The eclipse will pass, but the consequences will linger! her mother hugged her tighter, a bitter tenderness in her voice.
Consequences? Poppy asked, puzzled.
The ones youll ask the chemist about! Change your number and dont call him again.
She needed to stop thinking about him. Yet Toms shy smile and steady gaze haunted her constantly. Without knowing why, she stepped off the metaphorical train of fate a stop early, clutching a tiny piece of plasticher SIM cardtossing it to the crowd and hopping onto the next train.
Tom.
Think about it! You betrayed me! All that, just on a commuter train straight to the registry office! Emma, his girlfriend, wailed silently, clenching her fists.
I was honest with you. I told you everything, Tom said, fighting the urge to hug her, knowing it would only make things worse. You found out first.
And Im supposed to thank you for that? she shouted. What about the year and a half we spent together? All those love words? Do you not love me anymore?
She leaned on the window, vulnerable as a child, and Tom looked away. No, not now, dont dig into that, he thought.
Who is she? Emma demanded, eyes drilling into him. Which stop did you pick her up?
Enough! Tom snapped. Shes just a girl, a student. We clicked. Its not like our endless fights and complaints.
Youve known her less than a day! You know nothing about her! Maybe shes just another commuter who loves hopping trains! Emmas tears began to dry, replaced by anger. What did she buy you?
Stop it, Tom muttered, still avoiding her gaze. She didnt buy me anything. It was my choice.
What does she have that I dont? Emma pressed, closing the distance, her body pressed against his. She stood there, exposed, showing the familiar lines of a woman he once loved. In that instant, the veil of that crazy day seemed to lift, and Tom feared hed made a monstrous mistake.
He found no words. Instead he took her hand and pulled her close.
A blind, desperate passion seized them, and they collapsed onto the carpet.
Twenty minutes later, breathing hard on the floor, Emma asked, eyes on the ceiling:
Is this goodbye?
Im sorry. Im an idiot, Tom whispered, rummaging for his trousers, pulling out his phone and prying open the SIM tray. Just in case, he muttered, snapping the slim plastic in half.
A month passed. Both Tom and Poppy kept drifting back into thoughts of each other, slipping the bright, fleeting feeling into their grey, everyday lives. Both agreed that night had been perfect, and both blamed themselves for the collapse.
He could have found me. Its not that hard. He knows where I study! So he didnt want to change his mind? Poppy reflected.
My address was on that form. If I wanted, I could have found him, Tom thought.
Chance led Tom, on the day marked in his diary as his wedding day, to a street beside the same registry office. Instead of catching the tube, he walked down the boulevard into a park.
Im just taking a stroll, he rationalised. He wandered the paths, watching happy couples with photographers snapping away. Near the registry, he sat on a bench and found himself amid a noisy crowd awaiting the newlyweds exit.
Here you go, a stranger handed him a small packet of rice.
Just dont dump it on the bride; shes got a proper hairdo.
Tom took the packet automatically, preferring a simple action to any explanation. The doors burst open, the crowd surged. He tore a corner and poured a handful of rice onto his palm. Raising his hand to toss, he saw her.
Poppy. She stood on the opposite side of an improvised corridor of guests, looking straight at him.
Tom froze, the rice still in his hand.
Hey, throw it! the stranger shouted from the left, and Tom, on autopilot, gave the packet a good shake, sending rice scattering over the head of a passing bride.
The shocked cries, the laughter of newlyweds, the muttered comments of the strangerall faded into the background. Tom tossed the empty packet to the ground, stepped to Poppy, and took her hands.
Sorry, they said at the same time, the words carrying all the remorse, hope, and promise.
Got your passport? Tom asked quietly.
She only nodded, unable to speak. He lifted her onto his arms, climbed the steps, and, after murmuring a thankyou to the man with the rice, walked inside with his future wife.
