‘There’ll be no trains going today, boyo,’ sniffs the guard.
‘None?’
‘Not a sausage.’
‘From just here or ...?’
‘Anywhere.The whole network is down.Too much snow for the trains to drive safely.Not enough drivers who can get to the trains.And nowhere near enough engineering teams to deal with all the situations we’ve got.We’ve not even managed to get the rail replacement buses going because all the coach companies are having variations on the same problem.’
‘Christ.’
‘Not his fault.’
‘Feels pretty biblical.’
‘Not sure there was a snowstorm in Egypt, but I get your point.’
Christopher resists pointing out that Jesus wasn’t around for that, but arguing his Sunday School knowledge in the middle of an ongoing snowstorm seems futile.
‘Is itjustthe snow?Do you think it might clear up later today and things will get on the move again?’
The station guard chuckles.‘Just, he says.I doubt it’ll melt in this cold.Plus, I’d say that’s a pretty big problem,’ he adds, pointing at something a little way up the tracks.
Christopher follows his pointed finger until he sees a huge tree has crashed over the whole line.
Christopher sighs.‘Well.That’s quite definitive, isn’t it?’
The station guard’s eyes soften.‘Sorry to be the bearer of bad news on a day like this.I think we’re in for a worse-before-it-gets-better-type situation.I’m sorry, but it might be no trains until after Christmas from what I’m hearing.’
Deep down, Christopher knew the guard was going to say this.He takes a photo for the group chat, sends it and pockets his phone.
‘Going somewhere were you?’the guard asks, when Christopher says nothing.
‘Not anymore.’
‘Sorry, lad.’
‘Thank you for your help.I appreciate it.’
‘Stay safe now.’The guard pats him on the shoulder as he heads back inside.
* * *
The miserable hike home takes even longer as it’s uphill and against the wind.Christopher is convinced the wind changed direction just to spite him.There are a few scary moments when he almost falls over, but luckily he manages to get home with no injuries.Just a heartache.It’s anotherbattle to get inside, and he flings his snowy walking boots against the door with frustration.
After that walk, he’s grateful that he indulged in turning the coffee machine on after all.As his hand settles on a tub of hot chocolate – because boy does he need a hot chocolate right now – his phone buzzes with a video call from Kit.
She and Haf appear on screen, both wearing Santa hats.Kit’s new bob sharply pokes out underneath the trimming.Despite the hat, Haf’s hair is, as usual, somehow everywhere.
God, he needed this Christmas with them.
And now he’s here.Alone.
‘Hey.Are your parents okay?’he asks Haf.After all, they only live down the coast from him.They will have been hit with this too.
‘Yeah, they’re fine,’ Haf says.‘Mum has enough packets of quinoa in the pantry to last an apocalypse.I think they’re mostly bothered about whether they’re going to make their New Year’s cruise.’
‘I’m so sad,’ says Kit flatly.
