The smile
1st voice (this first paragraph to be read as if in a rush).
I get up at six and cut some sticks to light the fire that warms the home before I breakfast on toast and jam but the coffee stays half drunk as I dash for the bus. I choose a seat at the back, take out the project brief I should have read last night but was too tired to. As a mother and toddler struggle onto the now full seated lower deck I feel guilty because I don’t offer her my seat, there’s lots of people nearer to her and thus I justify myself but a sinking grip abrades my soul as I stuff the papers back in my case half read and run for the underground.
Wife:
He was up at six this morning and bless him he still remembered the kindling for the fire.
1st voice
The carriage is full but I squeeze in somehow and nod to Brown of accounts and smile at Lucy in despatch. I have my back to the door and Holborn is the next stop. We pour from the train like so much spilled coffee grounds. A sea of blacks and browns; the odd red hair telling me someone demands to be noticed. I have two minutes to walk the three minutes to my office. I find my boss waiting by the lift to the ninth floor; we stand in awkward silence as thirteen others wedge themselves into the cage for designed for twelve.
Girl on the tube (Lucy):
I like that bloke in strategic planning always smiling nicely - there’s so many sour faces these days.
1st voice
I’ve a nine o’clock meeting with the rest of the project group so I grab some coffee as I aim myself for the conference room door only to find someone has rescheduled our time for 8.45 and no one told me so I’m late and immediately in receipt of seven glares and two sniggers as I try to slide into my seat un-noticed. George is holding forth as only George can so I slip into ‘caffeine sponge mode’ and wait for my turn to speak. My turn has come; my piece is received in polite silence and the chairman moves the meeting on. No one comments, no one notices I even said anything. Except Arthur; he looks over as I straighten my notes; …my note, and he smiles. Not the smirk I might expect from the younger members of the group all hungry for position and power …he seems genuine.
Arthur:
The poor chap seems exhausted I’ll say thank you, it just might help.
The rest of the day drifts by in a fog and scooping up my notes for the 8.45 meeting tomorrow I trudge towards the stairs at five to find Arthur waiting in the lobby. He stretches out a hand and says, ‘thanks for your piece this morning. It helped me see things clearer. George does waffle a lot; I don’t know what he’s driving at half the time’. I smile and say, ‘thanks’. We get to the ground floor and Lucy from despatch pushes through and puts her arm through mine and looking up at me through eye shadow and hair spray says, ‘thanks for your smile this morning it really helped. I was feeling awful, thanks a lot. She lets go and disappears into the crowd. Arthur isn’t there any more either so feeling rather alone in the throng, I trudge back to the tube station.
I haven’t the energy to rush; though everyone else seems set on breaking some ‘tube access record’. Arriving on the platform I flop onto a bench and wait for the next train. Then I spot that notice I’ve seen once or twice before. I strain to read it though a sea of legs between me and the platform edge: It’s a quote from the Bible …and surely I am with you always… but the train pulls in obscuring my view. I haul myself onto the train and dump myself in a seat by the door. I could do with knowing that …God with me always, I wonder?
That’s right my son, I will never leave you or forsake you. Oh and by the way I love you.
