February 2nd, 1989

February 2nd, 1989

At home

The week so far…alarm shrills at 0455. Taxi shows up at 0545, and half an hour later, I’m on the train to London. Mass exodus when the train pulls into Euston, where most people head for the tube. Almost half an hour on the tube to Hatton Cross (always have to stand for at least the first ten minutes) and then a twenty- minute walk to Cranebank.

This morning I had a good look at everyone lining the platform. They all appeared to be staring ahead, or at the ground, with hunched shoulders. I don’t watch zombie films, but I imagine the commuters could pass for the zombies.

I got to the train station much earlier this morning, thanks to the taxi driver who, judging by the way he was driving, clearly had a death wish. I actually asked him twice to slow down, but he totally ignored me. Hope I don’t get him again.

When I was on the platform, a guy came walking towards me, and I stepped back expecting him to pass me, but he stopped.

“Karen,” he said, catching me off guard.

“Yes,” I said, trying desperate to place his face.

“It’s Lee,” he said.

“Oh of course,” I said, thinking how much older he looked than when we left Secondary, almost four years ago. “How are you?”

“Yeah, alright thanks. You working in London?”

I filled him in on what I was doing and he had lots of questions about my training and where I’d be flying to, at the end of it.

“I don’t mind the course,” I said, “but this part you can keep.”

“You get used to it.”

I think not.

Really enjoyed today’s classes, even although it was a hectic day, and I have piles of homework for the two different types of aircraft. Needless to say, there’s a ton of safety equipment to learn the locations of. My favourite word of the day was jemmy, which is basically a short, steel crow bar.

Walked to Hatton Cross station at the end of the day with Sam, and we caught the tube together into central London.

“Darling,” he said, “your commute is outrageous.”

“I know, but it’s only for a short time.”

“Why didn’t you move closer for training?”

“My boyfr….this guy called Ben that I’m, let’s say, rather fond of, is coming home from Italy this weekend and I want to be able to see him in the evenings.”

“Darling, do you have any idea what we’re training for in that stodgy old building?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Sam continued. “We’re training to be International Trolley Dolly’s. Which means our whole world is about to open up. And you know what that means?”

“What?” I asked, barely able to contain a smile.

“Old boyfriends are cheap as chips, and need to left in the past. Where they belong.”

 

 

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