Spoiler
After redrafting & rearranging parts of the novel various chapters have now been edited and moved about and I've also had to new chapters to link some of the chapters together. Sorry if this causes any immediate confusion but ultimately it helps it all make more sense.
It was a typical Monday morning just another average rush hour on the London underground. I was running late - again and again like many times before I had managed to make it on to the already packed train without getting my head trapped between the doors. I had witnessed it happening so many times and I’d concocted a special manoeuvre to avoid it ever happening to me.
As I leapt onto the train my body contorted round, my shoulders, and neck folded downwards. My head was first through the door and my body followed suit. Today, like other days, I made it…just! However today, unlike every other day I had chosen to wear a scarf. As I attempted to shuffle to the right, my scarf tugged on my neck and I realised that it hadn’t completely made it.
A shaggy-mousy-brown haired, handsome man chuckled as he turned to look in the other direction.
“Is something funny?” I asked sharply.
He turned to face me, knowing that I was talking to him, his brown eyes met mine and I felt my frustration disappearing.
“Sorry, are you talking to me?” His voice was smooth and clear, his words spoken with such elocution that I couldn’t help but wonder why he was riding on the same tube as me. His mouth curled up in one corner as he held back his smile.
“Do you think this is funny?” I asked
“Quite. Those were some pretty nifty moves you had on you there. It seems your scarf hasn’t had as much practice as you have. Shame, it’s a very pretty scarf.”
The train came to a halt. People squished, and pushed and asked to be excused. It was a relief when the doors opened and the scarf became looser around her neck. But before I had a chance to appreciate the relief, the other passengers wanting to get off were pushing me backward off of the train.
“This isn’t my stop,” I pleaded. “Ouch, that was my foot. Excuse me, excuse me, can I just get - please, if you don’t mind -“
I had almost given in to submission, when I felt a hand tugging me back into the train. I ducked and weaved as the mystery person pulled me through. As the beeping began to announce the closure of the doors, we stopped. The tall shaggy-mousy-brown-haired man and I were now stood side by side, our hands still gripping tightly to one another.
“Thanks,” I said
“It’s no problem,” he smiled. “Damn, looks like your scarf didn’t make it.”
My hands instinctively flew to my neck to feel the emptiness where my scarf had been.
“It was a nice scarf. Looked expensive.”
“Yeah,” I sighed on cue, knowing that my replica Chanel scarf that I bought down on Brick Lane cost no more than eight pounds.
“Well, um, this is my stop.” He said as the train pulled in to Green Park. “It was lovely meeting you…?”
“Sophie.” I intervened.
“It was nice meeting you, Sophie.”
As I watched him walk away I felt a sinking feeling down in my gut. This perfect stranger had made this day like no other. I did not know his name; I hadn’t even thought to ask. It was better this way, to have a fleeting moment of mystery that I already looked back on and thought ‘what if?’
My feet stumbled on a briefcase I guessed that the perfect stranger had left behind. This is my chance, I thought, this must be fate, dealing me the most magnificent of cards. I grabbed his briefcase and leapt to the doors as they began to close; I had completely forgotten about the danger I had so religiously been avoiding.
The door snapped shut on my head. My plastic glasses cracked, stabbing my temples before they fell to the floor. Passengers on the train and bystanders on the platform gasped in horror as they tried desperately to peel the doors open to release me.
“-Are you okay, Love?”
“-Oh my God, that was horrific, do you need to sit down?”
“Do you need a drink? A doctor? An ambulance.”
“Here’s what’s left of your glasses.”
I couldn’t make out who spoke from the crowd that had congregated around me, but I felt my cheeks flush as the embarrassment set in.
“I’m, I’m okay, honestly. Thank you so much for helping me. Thank you.”
I got to my feet - with a lot of help - and walked away in shame, a shame that was so strong it masked the pain that was welling up in my head. I didn’t have time to think of either; my delay might already have cost me the chance of catching the stranger. I had never been more thankful for the stay-right rule of the escalators then I was at that very moment.
Once out of the underground I had no idea, which way to turn. Left toward the Ritz or right toward Hyde Park? All I had now was my instincts and my gut feelings and I couldn’t honestly trust either. As I turned left and started towards the Ritz I knew I was wrong. I spun around and went back on myself, passed the station and down toward the park.
“Wait,” I yelled, recognising the man from the train. He stopped and turned to face me. I ran at him and when I stopped I gasped for air. “You left this behind.” I told him, showing him the briefcase. “I mean, I think you did. This is yours isn’t it? Oh my god, what am I doing? Running after you with some briefcase that might not even be yours. It was a total guess, I had no idea, I never seen you with the briefcase so why would I assume that it’s yours? Oh, crap, it could be a bomb couldn’t it? Please tell me it’s not a bomb; it’s yours isn’t it?”
I was freaking out now. I couldn’t stop the word vomit as all of my thoughts spilled out.
“What am I saying, I don’t know you, this could be your briefcase, and it could still be a bomb right?” I placed the briefcase onto the floor and backed away. “What have I done? Any other sane person wouldn’t have done that, would they? Ran after you with a potential bomb. I’m not so used to living in the city - I don’t register bomb threats, I don’t know the signs. I’m so … rural. I’ve never felt more out of place.” My head began to spin.
“Are you okay? Here, sit down. Wait,” He laid jacket out on the curb for me to sit on, “now sit.”
“Thanks.”
“You have a little - “ he wiped my temple with his thumb, his touch calmed me, “- blood.”
“Damn it. I didn’t realise I drew blood. I just had a minor accident getting off the train, it’s stupid really, no big deal.”
“What happened exactly?”
“My head, it - um - it got trapped in the train doors. Like I said, no big deal.”
“Holy crap! You’re not concussed or anything, are you? Should I get you to a doctor? I feel terrible. If I hadn’t left my briefcase, none of this would have happened.”
“I don’t regret that,” I said.
“You don’t regret getting injured?”
“Not entirely, no. If I hadn’t, I might never have seen you again. And I’ve quite enjoyed seeing you twice today.”
“We’ll do a test. What is your name, full name?” he asked
“Sophie Maria Appleton.”
“Your age?”
“Twenty-three.” I said
“Your favourite flower?”
“How exactly is that relevant?”
“This is a very scientific test to see if you remember the most minute details.” He said
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Okay, I guess - purely for scientific reasons - my favourite flowers are pink lilies, specifically the pink ones.”
“Ah, I see. Where do you work?”
“iOffice, Piccadilly Circus.” I said
“Well I think that just about covers it. Are you positive that you’re okay?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m sure. Scouts honour.”
“I’m really sorry to have to leave you like this but I have a meeting I really need to get to…Thank you so much for bringing me my briefcase, you literally saved my professional life. My head would have been on a stake if I didn’t have this in the meeting. Oh, and no my briefcase is not a bomb, so I think you’re doing pretty well for a rural.”
“Glad to hear it,” I smiled as I watched him walk away.
The rest of the day was pretty mundane. After relaying the events of the commute to my colleagues everything continued as normal. Nothing out of ordinary, nothing peculiar, excepting the fact that I was finding it a little difficult to see. My phone buzzed interrupting my train of thought.
“Hi Sophie, it’s Rachel from reception. There’s a Man here holding what can only be described as an embarrassing array of flowers.”
“Tell him to just leave them with you.” I said.
“I tried, but he insists that he wants to give them to you himself. He has a gift for you as well. Said his name is Ben.”
“Ben? I don’t know any Ben.” I told her. “What company is he with?”
“He didn’t say, told me he’s here on personal business. He refuses to leave until he’s seen you, says he can wait all day if he needs to.”
“I honestly think you’ve got the wrong person, Rach.”
“Excuse me, Ben.” I heard her say on the phone. “I’m really sorry but Sophie’s actually busy at the moment, maybe I could arrange an appointment for you some other time?”
“No thanks, now will be fine.” I heard him say. “Ask how the rural’s been coping today in the city, after having a not-so-great start. Go on; ask her - she’ll know what I mean.”
“I’ll be two minutes,” I told Rachel before she had a chance to relay his message to me. I hung up the phone and began to panic. He was here, in my work, waiting for me and I finally knew his name. This was so incredibly romantic, so unbelievably unexpected and I was so inexplicably unprepared. I checked my face in my handheld mirror and straightened out my dress. When I walked into reception Ben was sat with his back to me.
“Ben. Hi, what a surprise. And here was me thinking you asked all of those questions purely for medical reasons.” I said.
“These are for you.” He said, handing me the lilies. “And I got this for you to.” He handed me the white box, wrapped in Chanel logoed ribbon. When I opened up the box, wrapped in the tissue paper was a scarf identical to the one I lost on the train except this one was authentic Chanel.
“Thank you, you really shouldn’t have…” I said.
“I wanted to, to thank you. Besides, I was looking for an excuse to see you again.”
“And why would you want that exactly,” I teased
“Well, I was hoping that maybe I could take you out tonight?” he asked.
“Tonight, right, I have plans already.”
“Right, of course. I get it. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come, sorry to have bothered you.” He said before he turned to leave.
“Wait, I’m not blowing you off. I genuinely have plans already. My friends and I are heading down to Zander down on Buckingham Gate about 8 - you’re more than welcome to come along?”
As soon as we arrived in Zander I was preoccupied looking for Ben in the crowd. I had had butterflies in my stomach all day in anticipation of seeing him again.
“Would you stop daydreaming about being somewhere else,” said Sarah, noticing my preoccupation. “You spend all of your time alone in that flat of yours, the least you could do when you’re out of it is to try and look like you’re having a nice time.”
“I am I swear. I’m actually thinking about someone else not somewhere else.”
“A guy?” she asked intrigued.
“Yes actually, I met him on the tube this morning. Then this afternoon he showed up at work and asked me out so I told him we were coming here and he was welcome to join us.” I said.
“So, is he coming?”
“I hope so.”
Ben didn’t show that night and I was surprised. After him coming all of the way into work to see me and ask me out, why would he stand me up? I suppose he never actually said that he would definitely come but I still expected him to show. I spent the entire preoccupied by him and he wasn’t even there. I wasted my time thinking about him when I should have been enjoying the time I had with my friends; it really had been a long time since we caught up.
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