One of a few stories I got to type up during my internet absence. Please let me know what you think. TTFN.
Cheers
Wolf

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A time of Hope

The ten o’clock train to Portnevarragh “click-clacked,” gently as the countryside turned into a green blur. It reminded Hope of an artist mixing colours on an old wooden pallet. She could see herself in the window’s reflection. She looked slightly haggard but she felt that it was a vast improvement on her appearance compared with what she had looked like during these past two weeks. Her straight dark hair carried a few white strands here and there but she wasn’t too concerned about them. She had given up wearing any make up around the eyes in case the tears come again and transformed her into a living inkblot test. She still took some pride in her appearance though as she still made the effort to wear lipstick.

She briefly awoke from a state of drowsy half consciousness to thrust her hand into the pocket of her light blue raincoat. She brought out a piece of paper clutched in her hands with the reverence of a child holding their safety blanket. It was dog-eared from over reading. Hope proceeded to unfold it and take comfort from its words as she had done hundreds of times before.

“My dearest Hope,

I want to start by apologising to you. I find it hard to express emotions at the best of times but that is no excuse for depriving you of the love you so richly deserve. My psychologist has suggested that I try to unlock it by finding the missing piece of myself. I don’t know. I can’t really explain Hope but what he said made sense. So I’m going into the world for a month. I know you’re angry at me for doing it this way but I don’t want to remember my latest time with you as one where we are arguing. You have to believe that I’m doing this for you. I wouldn’t do this for any other reason than to become a better man for you. Please stay safe. I’ll get back as soon as I can and then I’ll start making up the years of winter to you. I love you.

Yours forever

Dean.”

Hope was indeed angry at first whenever she read the letter. She had loved Dean as the warmth in his eyes and the comfort in his embrace told her all she needed to know. She was worried about what it was that could shake him up so badly to make him leave like this. He was normally a rock. Her rock. After a thorough investigation involving a phone call to nearly every relative in Dean’s family and numerous wild goose chases she had come to the conclusion of her latest lead. His cousin had suggested that Hope try Dean’s father’s grave in Portnevarragh. After the turbulent relationship those two shared the last place she would expect to find him would be that cemetery.

A soft “flump,” and the image of someone sitting down at the corner of her eye interrupted her train of thought.

“Mrs Corvey? Hope? It is you isn’t it?” Hope turned to see a small man in his sixties dressed in a ridiculously large, sky blue, padded coat. He had green Wellington boots and brown cords. His huge spectacles and bushy white eyebrows made his brow look like a landscape painting of mountains at sundown. The lower half was an eerie cave. His bushy grey moustache formed the roof with loose pegs that he called teeth forming stalactites and stalagmites. He carried a large scrapbook, which from the look of it had been read a lot more than Hope’s letter. So much so in fact that the ends of his fingers were black with ink that rubbed off the pages and onto his skin.

“Who are you?” Hope asked tentatively.

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Henry Bahrami and I have come here to give you a very important message.” Henry started frantically searching through the pages of his book. Hope glanced at it long enough to see that it was a book full of newspaper clippings. ‘That explains the black fingers.’ Hope thought to herself, but there were still too many questions that trailed in the wake of this stranger’s entrance. Hope set out to get some answers.

“How do you know my name?”

Henry looked up momentarily to stare at her with huge eyes, magnified by his glasses and a not so toothy smile.

“Seen you in the paper didn’t I!”

“What do you mean? I’ve never been in any newspaper to my knowledge.” Henry laughed and retorted,

“Just goes to show that you don’t know much, at least not yet. Ahh here we are.” The answers Hope received were creating more questions. All the while Henry spoke confidently as if his answers made perfect sense because he knew all the secrets that lay behind them.

“What paper have I been in? Is this it?” Henry simply pointed to an old, faded paper clipping and said, “Read.” Hope did so, her eyes widening as the fog of confusion started to lift.

“Tragic tandem train accident kills 457

Four hundred and fifty seven commuters died today in a tragic accident on the line between Strandburn and Portnevarragh. Both trains were headed for Hodgeston when the electronics that control the timing and guidance of the trains malfunctioned. Normally this would have just meant that the trains would have arrived within minutes of each other. However a fault on the line turned a minor problem into a tragedy. The first train was forced off the rails and crashed to a halt on the line to lie in the path of the second train. The second train being so close was unable to stop in time causing a collision that is said to be the worst in the history of Railwerks fifty years of service.

Of the few survivors left to walk away from the wreckage many of them owe their lives to one man. From witnesses’ descriptions and a positive identification of the body this paper can exclusively reveal the identity of the man. Dean Corvey (43) was travelling home with his wife Hope (39) to their home in Hodgeston when they got caught in the tragedy. Hope died when the first train de-railed. Not sparing any time for grief, Dean hurried about looking for survivors and getting them off the train. He was still trying to get a mother and child out when the second train hit, killing him instantly. This is the only glimmer of human bravery in a tragic tale of terrible coincidences. Officials from Railwerks were asked to comment…”

Hope couldn’t read any further as shock was starting to take hold. Henry broke the silence, bringing her back to earth.

“You saw the date I imagine?” She nodded.

“Two days from now. Yes. Look I don’t know what you think you are doing but if this is a joke then…” Henry held up his hands.

“I can assure you this is not a joke and what I am doing. What I am in the business of doing is giving you and people like you a second chance.”

“Why me?”

“You were chosen because you can make a difference. Here take the clipping and if all goes well you’ll be kept out of my book.” He pressed the paper into her hands as he got up.

“This is your stop. I hope you can save yourself. This book is a heavy enough burden to bear as it is.”

With that the old man ambled off into the crowd. Hope followed swiftly.

“Wait. What can I do?” It was too late the man was gone. Hope stood there on the platform trying desperately to get a grip on the situation. She had to find Dean and with him stop an accident that hadn’t happened yet. As Dean had left his mobile behind there was no immediate way to contact him. Hope lost no time in finding a phonebook and phoning all the B&Bs in the immediate area. She breathed a sigh of relief when she eventually did find the place.

Hope entered the dimly lit hallway of Sally’s B&B only to find out from Sally that Dean had gone out a while ago muttering something about this time being all or nothing. She said he had expected to be back soon. Hope asked if she could wait in his room. Sally wore a knowing smile when she told Hope that she could. The room itself was nice enough if a little basic. It was quite light with cream walls and blue curtains. The smell of the seaside battled with a bowl of potpourri left in the room. The odd picture of seaside scenes were scattered about the walls like shells on a beach.

Sally was right about Dean’s timing as it wasn’t long before he entered the small room dressed in a black hoodie and blue jeans. His black hair was spiked up after swimming in the sea. His eyes were red and blotchy round the outside as if he had been crying. Hope didn’t really know what to say when she saw him. She had never seen him this broken before.

“Back from the cemetery?” To answer her he ran to her and held her tight. He didn’t cry but shook every once in a while as he made an effort to hold the sobs in. Hope spoke softly to him.

“Don’t run out on me like that again. We are a team. Where you go, I go. If you have troubles then tell me and not some know it all shrink and I will help you to bear the load.”

“Oh Hope. I’ve missed you. You don’t have to worry about me running anymore. I can’t really explain it but something has happened to me these past few days and I realised that I just don’t work properly without you. You complete me.” Hope smiled, unexpected tears running down her face.

“I love you too hun but you don’t get to do this to me again or I’m allowed to kill you deal?”

“Deal. So how did you find me?”

“It doesn’t matter how I found you. What matters is that I did. Listen honey something happened to me on the way over here…” Hope proceeded to explain what happened and finished by handing Dean the clipping. Dean soon wore the same look of shock that his wife had on earlier.

“We need to find this place in the picture.”

“Why?” Dean frowned in thought.

“I don’t know. It’s just a hunch I have but I think that when we find it there will be something of use there.”

“Ok.” Hope said. She studied the picture looking for a familiar landmark. A small white line stood out of the black and grey gorse bushes that lined the track.

“Dean look. I think it’s a marker. What’s the number on it though? I can’t make it out.” Dean took the clipping and squinted hard.

“It’s sixty seven. Hope you are a genius. Ok we still have one day so tomorrow we’ll head out there and see if there is anything of use.” Hope was happy with this plan. Finally her rock was back. They spent that night in each other’s arms and both found that peaceful sleep came on a lot easier in each other’s company.

The next day they took a taxi down to the spot that was closest to the tracks. They were careful to look for trains while they searched for marker sixty-seven. It was about half an hours walk from where they started before they spotted it. To Hope’s surprise there was a small wreath placed around the post and some flowers that looked quite fresh. She carefully crossed the tracks to take a better look at it, with Dean following right behind her. It wasn’t long before she found what she was looking for however she wasn’t expecting the name scrawled on it. A small card lay on the wreath it read “Henry Bahrami, 1943-2006.” Hope put her hand to her mouth and gasped.

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“This is the Henry I was talking to you about. He seems to have died last year.”

“So what is he? Some sort of ghost?”

“No. He’s more like an angel. Whatever he is there must be something that will help us out here that he is guiding us to. All we have to do is find it.”

Dean looked around. His face brightened when he spotted a lever near the fork in the track.

“That lever back there must switch the tracks. That would stop the second train but not the first. If we figure that out then we’re ok.” Hope frantically looked around for the crucial thing that might save her life. After two hours of painstakingly searching the grassy banks and gorse bushes they had come up with nothing. In a moment of exasperation Hope kicked the rail. A dull “clang” was heard. She looked down at the spot she had kicked to see that there was a crack in the line.

“Dean” she cried “I’ve found it. We’re saved.”

Within minutes they were in a taxi, speeding towards the train station. The two waded through the steady stream of people before reaching the customer services desk. To their despair they found that it was closed and saw a sign stating that the staff were on holiday until the next day. As the rest of the station was automated things were not looking good. Dean spoke softly into Hopes ear in an effort to calm her.

“It is clear that this is the way things are meant to happen. Listen the trains still have an emergency brake right? Lets use what we have. Ok?” Hope nodded. The two left the station and spent the rest of the night walking and talking before they headed back to Sally’s B&B. They didn’t eat as the fear made them lose their appetite. The morning came too quickly. The two got ready in silence, making sure to look their best in case they died. The only things they could really think of that were worth saying after their talks last night were “I love you,” and “Good luck.” They left the B&B saying their fond farewells to Sally and walked arm in arm towards the station.

The train sighed as it came to a stop. The couple sighed with it and got on board. The soft “click clacking” of the train mimicked the rhythm of their hearts as adrenaline pumped through their bodies. Hope watched out the window looking for the lever that changed the tracks. The gorse bushes became a green and yellow blur.

Back at the station the automated timetable blinked for a moment as if the reception on the device was bad. When it returned to normal not many people noticed that the next train had been brought forward by a few minutes. No one cared, so long as they got to where they were going.

“58…59. It’s close now honey.”

“I’m ready.” Dean said with a purposeful voice. Further up the line the rattles of the approaching train made the crack larger until the track eventually snapped.

“62…”

“Wait for it.”

“65.”

“Do it now Hope.” In an instant she was up on her feet and yanked the cord with all of her might.

“Nice one. Keep at it until we stop.” Hope nodded and watched as Dean dashed to the back of the carriage and opened the doors. He took a large gulp of air as he dived out to hit the ground rolling.

He had barely enough time to stand up and catch his breath before he caught sight of the other train coming around the corner. Wasting no time he sprinted as hard as he could towards the lever that switched the track. The approaching train squealed like a giant mouse as it applied the brakes. He knew it wouldn’t be enough. He dived for the lever and pulled with all his might. The lever wouldn’t budge. The train ploughed on screaming death. Dean felt a bit of give in the lever before giving it one last mighty effort. The lever moved giving a satisfying “clunk” as the track changed. A split second later the second train blew past him. It came to a stop alongside the first.

Hope ran to Dean with tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. He caught her in a warm embrace.

“We did it Hope. We did it.”

“Henry said we could.”

“Yes. I think your angel was helping more then he let on though.” Dean showed Hope his hands. The fingertips were covered in black ink from the lever.

“Thank you Henry.” Hope said in the direction of the wreath.

“Oh,” Hope exclaimed, “the paper clipping. It’s gone.”

“After this I should imagine that it never existed. You got your second chance Hope and you beat the odds. From here on we make our own future.”

“Well I know what I want to do right now.”

“What’s that?”

“Go home. After all this I’m dying for a cuppa.”

“That we can arrange”

“Oh and one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“I want you to fire that psychologist.”

“Ha ha. He is as good as fired.” The two laughed as they walked hand in hand back to the train, looking forward to the rest of their lives.

The End