Under the Clock – Amy

Amy stared without seeing as the conductor inspected her return ticket – she’d not expected  to use it quite so soon. It had been a heart wrenching moment when she’d caught sight of that chap with Jenny under the clock. From the back he’d looked just like Des, stopping her in her tracks as the past suddenly seemed to materialise before her eyes. It had taken a moment or two to realise that this was someone entirely different. In fact she recognised him as the guy who’d been around when Jenny had been producing that play two or three months ago. What was his name? Ethan, that was it. She wasn’t in any way surprised that they seemed to have finally got it together and realised that it probably answered her recent feeling that Jenny had been somehow distracted. She’d slipped away, no doubt she’d hear all about it soon enough.

But that moment under the clock had really shaken her. She’d not thought about Des for years, had managed to put the whole sordid affair out of her mind. Now she couldn’t shake off the image or the memories that came flooding back of how they used to meet at that very spot. She a rather naive 20 year old, he not so old really, maybe 30-ish, the age she was now. Nothing wrong in what they were doing he’d said, it was just… Well people get the wrong idea when a professor and a student fell in love so best to wait until you graduate Amy, you see that don’t you?

And of course, like a fool she’d agreed. She was in love, she’d have agreed to anything. She didn’t see the clandestine afternoons at the Central Hotel as something furtive or sleazy, but instead lived for the moment when they they would be free to be together properly. They’d get married, have lots of children, live happily ever after… Her eyes smarted as she remembered. She took her book from her bag and tried to read but the words swam before her eyes. Her usual ploy of staying frantically busy just wasn’t working today.

Today she couldn’t dismiss the memory of that moment 10 years ago when a tall woman in a striking red coat had walked right up to her as she approached their usual rendezvous point under the clock. A tall woman who had come up close and hissed in her face, “How dare you! There’s no point looking for him, you little bitch, he’ll not be coming today, or ever!” She’d thought she was going to faint as she struggled to make sense of the barrage of words that followed, hearing them as if they were coming from far away. “Bastard. Bitch. Whore. Wife and 3 children. How COULD he?” Making any kind of reply was impossible in the face of the torrent of fury and hatred. What could she say anyway? “I didn’t know”, “I’m sorry”…?

Any shuddered as she remembered those eyes boring into her as she backed away and managed to stumble to a seat where she sat entirely still for what seemed like an eternity until the pain in the pit of her stomach abated and she felt she could stand up without falling over.

She’d lost the baby that night. Maybe it was just as well.

Thank God, the train had finally arrived at her station. She gathered her things and prepared to step back into her life of perpetual motion.

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