beyond the blue

Chapter One

Tom sat on the bench, the cold of the metal seeping through his jeans and stinging the back of his legs. He opened the morning paper and pointed his eyes in the direction of the print. All of his senses however, were awaiting the noise of the train about to pull up at the platform.

The tanoy cracked to life and the monotone male at the other end announced the 7.32 am from Crewe. The hairs on the back of Tom’s neck stood up. He braced himself, his fingers grasping the morning paper just a little too tightly, his breath coming a little faster than he wanted.

He stood and carefully made his way to the exit just as the train squealed to a stop. His back towards it, he fought the urge to turn and scan each carriage door to look for her. Bodies brushed passed him on all sides but none of the faces registered in his brain.
Quickly passing through the exit he strode through the large marble foyer. The coffee shop was on the far side next to the book shop where he knew she loved to browse before catching the 8.10 am bus into town.

She was there, not far behind him, he could feel it. He dug his clammy hands into the pockets of his cream Harrington jacket. It’s times like this, he thought, that he was glad that designer labels weren’t important to him. Who wanted to be noticed anyway? Not him, at least not for his clothes. The faintest grin hovered briefly over his face as he thought of how, someday, everyone would notice not him, but his work. He had always known that he was special, that he had something to do. It was only after his father died a year ago however, that he realized where his talents lay. The thought of his father made his stomach lurch. Tears prickled his eyeballs and he clenched his teeth and blinked harder to make the sadness go away. Tom was not prepared to be distracted from his job, not here, not today.

Entering the coffee shop, he made his way to the counter. He was grateful for there being no-one else waiting to be served. Tom slid his money along the formica work top towards the young lady manning the till. She looked towards him and placed the change in his hand, consciously trying hard not to look down, but unconsciously not being able to control her eyes from flicking a glance at the sweaty place to which the coins were dispensed. She was always so careful not to touch him. She smiled at him as he picked up his sweet tea and he headed for the table near to the window. He did not smile back and he didn’t notice that her eyes had not moved, that her smile had not reached them.

“Creep”, she mouthed silently as he walked away. He always followed the same pattern, same time, same seat. Unlike most of the regulars, he stood out because no matter what she did or said to him, his responses were always the same, nothing, blank. In the beginning she had thought of him as ignorant but after a few weeks she had noticed the focus of his attention. Her heart sank as that focus stumbled over the metal strip in the doorway that marked the end of the marble and the beginning of the sticky pink nylon carpet of the coffee shop.