Platform 3 - Part 1 by Vivien Teasdale

The girl kept to the shadows as she sidled into the deserted railway station. It was already dusk; the evening sky heavy with its threatened rain. Peering round, the girl checked no-one was there ahead of her, or following her, before she scurried down the platform and opened the heavy door to the waiting room. It creaked as she pushed it further and stepped into the room. All was in darkness. No train was expected that night, no passengers would be waiting to be picked up.

The girl headed to the furthest corner, curling up on the hard wooden seat and trying to make herself comfortable. For a little while she lay awake, wondering about her journey, wondering where she would go tomorrow, where she could go tomorrow. Then exhaustion set in and she fell asleep.

Hours later, the sound of a train chugged along the single track, straining up the incline over the moors, before slowing its engine for the flat run to the station. There were no lights on in the station but as the moon finally forced its way through the cloudy barrier, Tony could have sworn he saw something move in the waiting room.

"Damn Danny," he muttered with a sigh. More loudly, he went on, "Looks like the waiting room’s been left open, again. I’ll have to put in a report this time. Can’t go leaving it open. Kids’ll get in and goodness knows what they’ll get up to. No-one there to stop ‘em."

The train driver grunted in reply, focused on the dials in front of him. The train pulled into the platform and shuddered to a halt. "There you are," he said. "G’night."

Tony nodded his thanks, and jumped out of the train, intent on having words with the young guard who should be there to replace him, but Danny was nowhere to be seen.  Tony marched along the platform, looking at the usual places Danny hid to have a sneaky cigarette.

Just as Tony turned to retrace his steps, Danny hurtled out of the darkness and rushed towards the train.

"Oi! Want a word with you, lad. You’re late, for a start."

"Sorry, Tony, had a bit of bother, in the village. Must dash." The young man kept running, but Tony, for once, was quicker.

"Just a minute," he snapped, grabbing Danny’s by the shoulder the pulling him to a halt. "That waiting room’s been left open again. You’re responsible for locking it. There’s someone in there."

"Locked it teatime. No-one in there. Can’t be. Got to go." Danny twisted himself out of Tony’s grip and jumped aboard the train, closing the door firmly after him. Without waiting, the driver blew the horn and set off, leaving Tony fuming on the platform.

He glanced round at the waiting room. Perhaps he had imagined it. Just a trick of the smudgy moonlight, which was now almost gone. Better to just get in his car and go home. But his innate sense of duty forced him to walk slowly across the platform. He peered in at the windows. Nothing. Just blackness and shadows. Reassured, he set off towards the car park. But again a niggle of routine made him try the door handle as he passed the room. It turned. The door was open.

Sighing, he took a torch out of his uniform pocket and went in. Silence. Then, as the torch beam swept across the room, he saw a foot. He moved closer. The foot didn’t move. Nor did body of the little girl who owned it. She lay, curled up on the bench, her face pale as wax. And then her eyes opened and she screamed.

"It’s alright, it’s alright. Not going to hurt you." Tony stepped back hastily. "You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be out this time of night anyway. Why are you here? What’s your name?"

The girl stared at him. She clutched her coat tightly round her and eyed the door.

"Are you from the village? I’ve not seen you about before." Tony worried what to do; there were no phones nearby that he could use. "Tell me where you live, I’ll take you home," he offered.

"Sandra," the girl replied.

"Sandra? Is that the name of street you live on?"

"Sandra."

"It’s your name, is it?"

"Sandra."

No matter what he asked, the girl said no more.