Meet Me Under the Clock

Chapter 2

2

TOM

I know it s ridiculous but I m beginning to worry slightly that Lola isn t going to turn up this evening. I mean, I know she is, because she s the one who instigated this and it was only three days ago when she messaged, and she was very precise about where she d be coming from, where we should meet, everything. It s a little odd that she isn t here already, though.

Rationally, her train s probably delayed, British Rail being what it is.

What time is it, though? We definitely agreed to meet at seven. I m surprised she hasn t messaged me to let me know she s running late.

I walk backwards to look up at the clock and, bugger… I ve crashed into someone.

I hear a piercing scream (basically a very loud Gaaaaah ) and get an impression of a lot of red clothing topped off by a lot of dark brown curly hair before I put my arm out and catch her (it turns out that the person I ve nearly taken out is a medium-heighted woman).

I m so sorry, I tell her. Should have looked where I was going. I m surprised I didn t see her somehow in my peripheral vision; the dress she s wearing is bright .

Oh, no, don t worry. It s easily done. Honestly.

I hope she isn t just being polite. I have a nasty feeling that I might have crushed one of her feet beneath mine.

Are you… I begin to ask before I m interrupted by an incredibly loud Tannoy announcement.

What? The woman frowns. I m frowning too. What did they say? Lockdown? As in… what?

No bloody way, screeches the middle-aged woman to my right, whose truly vicious argument I ve been trying to ignore for the past few minutes. No way am I staying here with you, she yells at the man she s been arguing with. That s life taking the piss one step too far.

I think you re going to have to stay, Carole, the man tells her. We don t have to speak to each other. He sounds quite hopeful.

Too right I won t be speaking to you, yells Carole. I m going.

The announcer informs us all again at very high volume through the Tannoy that we all need to stay exactly where we are for the time being and that all the station exits to the streets and Tube and Waterloo East mainline station have been closed.

I look around. The concourse is full of people – in ones and twos and larger groups – in various states of confusion, disbelief, irritation. Close to me, under the clock, there s the woman in red, Carole and her arguing partner, and two elderly women, who ve been holding hands and beaming at each other since I got here.

The announcement starts again. No-one s really moving. It s actually quite hard to believe that this is happening but the gist of what they re saying seems to be that there s a suspected terrorist incident unfolding outside the station and that we re locked down inside. We must stay where we are for the time being until they ve completed preliminary investigations and then it s possible that we will be asked to move.

I don t want to worry you, but— the woman in red s semi-whispering, like she even less wants to worry anyone else —do you think they re telling us to stay exactly where we are because they think there could be a terrorist inside here with us?

Erm. No? I reply cautiously, thinking Fuck, maybe she s right. And oh my God, where s Lola? She must have been caught up in this . And then I think, no, of course the woman isn t right. That would just be a monumental cock-up on the part of the police. They must have better information than that. I hope. No, I state firmly. If there were a terrorist inside with us, they d be moving us to shelter, wouldn t they, not leaving us here like sitting ducks.

I say, Excuse me, pull out my phone and try calling Lola. There s a ringtone, but she doesn t pick up, so I send her a quick message telling her that I m already under the clock.

As I type, Carole screeches, Sitting ducks. Oh, God.

Yep, I could probably have used a better expression.

Not sitting ducks, I say loudly. Very safe. Very, very safe. I don t feel that anyone is going to benefit from Carole or anyone else getting too panicked. Obviously, I am myself panicking a little, about Lola, but, being rational, it would be incredibly unlucky for her to have been caught up in this and injured in any way. She s probably just somewhere on the other side of the concourse, or stuck on a train just outside the station. There are probably a million good reasons she hasn t picked up my message.

Exactly, agrees the woman in red. We re all going to be completely fine. She waves her phone at us and then scrolls. Nothing on here. Social media, BBC News, nothing. If anyone had been injured so far there d already be stuff about it online. We re going to be fine .

Really? Carole s still operating at very high volume.

Definitely, the woman in red says. I mean, this is Waterloo station. They must have practised this loads of times. Obviously. All big stations must have done.

That is probably true, concedes Carole.

So we should all stay calm and do exactly what we re told, says Carole s partner.

Fuck off, Roger, Carole tells him.

A muffled choking sound like a swallowed gasp of shocked laughter comes from the direction of the woman in red, and then to my admiration she steps into the breach and says to the rest of us, I think we might be stuck here together for a while. I m Nadia.

Carole and Roger stare at her.

The elderly women stare at her.

I take pity on her.

I m Tom, I announce. I hope your foot s okay. I think I trod on it very hard just now. She looked as though she might be hobbling.

I mean, I m pretty sure you broke my foot but other than that I m okay. She remains completely straight-faced for a moment, and then she grins at me. Joking. Totally fine. Honestly.

Ha. I laugh politely. You got me there for a moment. I m glad you re okay.

I m Bea. The taller of the two elderly women has released her companion and is holding her hand out, and Nadia and I both shake it.

After some hesitation, Roger shakes her hand too, and eventually so does Carole.

And I m Ruth, the shorter elderly woman joins in. We shake hands with her too.

Roger, says Roger, and then he sticks his hand out, and Bea, Ruth, Nadia and I all politely pretend that we didn t already know his name.

And then Carole says, I m Carole, and we pretend again.

And then we all stare at each other for a few seconds, before Nadia says, Well this is a bit of a shock, isn t it.

It is, rather, Bea agrees. And then, as though the words won t stay inside her, she says, I m so sorry, I appreciate that this isn t exactly the best timing for a happy announcement and that we re all complete strangers, but I just have to tell someone: after decades of being apart for various reasons, Ruth and I have just got engaged.

Ruth nods, beaming and looking a touch tearful, and they slide an arm each around the other s waist.

Oh my goodness, that s wonderful news, says Nadia. I m so pleased for you. Congratulations.

Yes, huge congratulations, I say.

There s a bit of a loud silence from where Roger and Carole are standing, both very rigid, about a metre apart from each other, and then Roger says, Great news. Congratulations, and then Carole adds, How lovely. Both of them sound very flat, but at a guess, they ve just split up, possibly due to something Roger s done, going by the yelling Carole was doing before the loudspeaker announcement, and they probably aren t totally up for celebrating other people s news.

A few awkward seconds pass, and then Nadia says, I m so happy for you. When did you first meet?

I check my phone quickly as Bea says, Well , like she s about to start a long story.

There s no update on any news channel, and there s no reply from Lola. I try calling her again, and again she doesn t pick up.

Are you alright? Ruth asks me.

Yes, no, I mean, yes. I was just checking on a… friend I was supposed to be meeting.

Oh, I m so sorry, Bea says quickly. I was being hugely insensitive. You must be very worried. I m sure, though, that they re absolutely fine. What time were you supposed to be meeting?

Seven.

We all, as one, look up at the clock. It s almost seven thirty now.

They were probably held up by this incident, Ruth says.

Yeah. I nod. Rationally, that is true. But why isn t Lola answering her phone?

I m sure they re alright, Ruth says. Were you also…? she probes delicately in Nadia s direction.

Yes, but, you know, I… Nadia looks round the circle that we ve more or less formed ourselves into. It was a blind date. And I wasn t totally sure about it. And if I m honest, I don t think he was going to turn up anyway. So really don t worry about me. And I m really not worried about him ; I m sure he isn t involved in the incident. Well, I hope he isn t. No, I m sure he isn t.

We all mumble that we re sure Nadia s possible-blind-date is absolutely fine, especially since there s still no news of any casualties of any kind, while obviously not wanting to agree with her that – given how late he already was – he was probably not going to turn up, because it never makes anyone feel good to be stood up. It s odd, actually, because Nadia s very attractive-looking and on first meeting seems very nice, so why would a blind date not turn up? Saying that, people do get cold feet. And who knows how anyone comes across on a dating app or however they got in touch.

Yeah, no, honestly, it s fine. She clearly wishes we would all shut up, and fair enough. Bea, you were in the middle of telling us about how you and Ruth met.

Oh, yes, well, I m not sure…

I d love to hear the story, Nadia says.

Roger and I agree that we would too. Carole seems to be having a bit of a silent strop, and who can blame her if this really is a break-up based on something Roger s done.

Our relationship goes back nearly sixty years. We… Actually, maybe you should tell it, Ruth. Bea looks lovingly at her.

I can t help wondering if this is kind of how Lola and I will be once we actually find each other tonight. Obviously, since we re thirty-five, we do not have a sixty-year relationship, but ten years of mutually thinking about each other on and off (and in my case experiencing a failed marriage during that time) and then getting back together – tonight – is pretty impressive.

Let s both tell it. There s something very endearing about Ruth. We first met at university when we were eighteen. And we became very close friends, but, well, speaking for myself, I m not sure I even understood my feelings then. Things were very different in those days. And we both ended up in relationships with men. She pauses and looks at Bea.

Yes. And to give my husband his due, Bea says, he was a good man and I did love him.

And neither of us can ever regret our marriages, because we both have children, Ruth adds.

Exactly, Bea agrees. We obviously both love our children immensely. I have three daughters and Ruth has two sons. All in their forties now.

But, something was missing. Sexually. And we ve found it. Ruth does a very dirty laugh, which makes all the rest of us laugh, which is impressive, because I m internally worrying about Lola every few seconds and Carole s still shooting homicidal looks at Roger pretty regularly.

If it isn t too indelicate a question, Nadia asks delicately, how did you find it?

You want the sexual details ? Ruth asks.

No, no, no! Nadia squeaks. I meant how did you find each other again?

Bea sniggers and then says, We d stayed in touch over the years and we ended up at the same barbecue recently, and talked late into the night. And then Ruth…

Thought to myself I ve just turned seventy-six and I d realised in recent years that I m a lesbian and that Bea was the great love of my life and I just suddenly decided that I wanted to give it a shot.

So she told me.

And then we kissed. And it was wonderful. Ruth s all misty-eyed and it is beautiful. And I can t stop thinking about Lola and hoping that she s alright.

And then we both had family commitments and had to leave, and we agreed to meet here, this evening.

And when we got here… Ruth pauses and looks up at Bea, and then they relink hands and squeeze.

Ruth proposed. And I said yes. Bea looks tearful in a happy way.

I congratulate them again and think about Lola as Nadia says, Oh, that s so, so wonderful. I m so happy for you.

Roger shifts around a bit where he s standing and then says, Good on you.

Carole says, Congratulations. And then she suddenly changes the subject. Well, we re stuck here, aren t we. Why don t we do this too, Roger? Tell them our news?

Roger shifts some more. I don t think…

Don t you? Oh, I do, actually. Carole stands straighter and looks ahead of her as though she s addressing a large room of conference delegates. Roger and I got married twenty-eight years ago today. As in, today is our wedding anniversary. We arranged to meet here, under the clock, to go for a special dinner. Roger got here early. And so did I. From the opposite direction. Sad old loser that I am, I tiptoed up behind him to surprise him with a hug and a kiss. And it turned out that he was on the phone. Talking very sexually, shall we say. Would anyone like to guess who he was on the phone to ?

We all shake our heads mutely. This is awful but I don t have the words to halt it, and apparently the others don t either. And maybe Carole needs this, so maybe we shouldn t try to stop her, anyway.

Roger, would you like to tell them?

Roger mutters that he wouldn t and do we really need to do this.

He was on the phone to my best friend, Carole informs us, very loudly and very clearly. Such a cliché. Apparently they ve been having an affair.

Roger suddenly finds his voice. In my defence, you ve been working very long hours and she was there .

We all stare, wide-eyed, as Carole replies, I ve been working hard to fund our lives. Remember how we had to have a nanny because you were too busy playing golf to look after our children? And shagging Samantha too, obviously.

Yes, well, I ve said I m sorry.

Oh well that s alright then. There s a long, nasty, nasty pause, and then Carole suddenly bursts into huge, wracking sobs. Nadia and Ruth shake off their horror-struck musical-statue look and converge on her and hug her.

You absolute tosser, says Bea. There s something very powerful about swearing from someone of a generation that doesn t swear as much as subsequent generations do. Also, she isn t wrong. What an arse.

In your defence? joins in Nadia. Really?

My husband worked very long hours, says Bea. And I hadn t been attracted to him for years. And I did not play away.

Well now I do still find Carole attractive. Roger says it like he s paying her an actual compliment.

Carole lifts her head from Bea s shoulder to say, Oh, fuck off.

Carole, I m so deeply sorry. The words feel so inadequate but I want her to know how much I feel for her, how much any right-thinking person would.

Er, solidarity? Roger gives me a despising you re-letting-down-the-brethren look. I ignore him.

Ruth hugs Carole more tightly. Carole, would you prefer to continue to discuss this with Roger or perhaps stay here with us and ask him to take a few steps away?

Away.

I look at Roger and indicate with my head that he might like to move a few steps to his left.

He shakes his head and pulls a small box out of his pocket. Carole, I bought you an anniversary present. He opens it and tries to show it to her. Earrings, look.

Give them to Samantha, Carole says, very quietly and quite magnificently.

Roger looks genuinely confused. But her ears aren t pierced.

As the rest of us draw Carole away from him and turn our backs, I see that Nadia has one arm round Carole s shoulders and her free hand clamped over her mouth and am pretty sure that, like me, she s almost laughing in shock at Roger s incredible behaviour but very aware that she cannot actually allow a laugh to escape.

Carole, I am so deeply sorry, says Ruth. We d like to keep you company if we may. I promise we won t talk about our engagement again.

No, please do. Carole sniffs. I m happy for you. I d like to be distracted by nice things before I think about sorting out the shit show that s my life. Divorce. I ll have to fucking pay him alimony, I m guessing.

One of my sons is a divorce lawyer, says Ruth. Ferocious, apparently. We ll get him involved.

Thank you. Carole manages to smile a little. Then she physically shakes herself and says, Tell me more about your children.

Well. Ruth launches into a description about the lawyer and her other son (a doctor) and the three other women listen to her, interjecting sometimes, while I surreptitiously check my phone to see if Lola s been in touch. Nope. Nothing.

There s still no real update on social media or the news outlets about what s going on here, either.

I try hard to focus on the conversation, which has now moved on to include stories from Carole and Bea about their adult children, rather than spiralling into extreme panic about Lola.

We met ten years ago at a party in a pub outside Waterloo and just had an incredible connection. Nothing happened between us because I was about to move to New York for an amazing work opportunity and Lola was in a relationship (it turned out). She told me at the end of the evening, on our way into the station, that she was actually twelve weeks pregnant, and for that reason didn t want to leave her partner, which I obviously totally understood.

We did swap numbers and made one of those straight-out-of-a-corny-film agreements – which you don t think real people would ever make – that if we were both single in ten years time we d meet here at Waterloo under the clock tonight, on the longest night of the year, ten years on.

I actually deleted her number a couple of days after that meeting because I just felt grubby thinking about someone who had a partner and was having a baby with him, and put her out of my mind, and managed not to think about her much after that, other than on the occasions I walked past the pub where we d met.

And then, three days ago, I got a text from her asking if I was still single. I am officially single, as of about nine months ago. And apparently so is she now.

And so we agreed to meet. And if I m honest, I ve been really excited about it.

And it seems inconceivable that she would contact me out of the blue, send all the messages she sent, and then not turn up.

And for that reason, worry is clawing away at me now.

Nadia breaks into my thoughts. Honestly, Tom, I m sure your friend is okay. British Rail being what it is, they were probably just delayed, and then got caught up in all of this.

No replies to any of my messages, though?

There are so many rational explanations for that, Nadia says. Lost the phone. Stuck in an underground station somewhere due to all of this. Out of data. To name but three. She has the air of a woman who could name about fifty possible explanations but has suddenly realised that it might seem insensitive to turn my worry into a guessing game.

Yes, there are, says Ruth firmly. Why don t you tell us about your friend? If you d like to? Please don t feel you have to, of course.

And then I find myself doing exactly what Bea and Ruth and Carole did: I find myself seduced into that splurge-your-secrets-to-strangers-who-have-just-become-your-new-best-friends thing.

Her name is Lola, I begin.