The station comes into view. My watch says a quarter past four. The station clock says ten past. On reaching the station I put down my briefcase and thrust my hand into my jacket. I search around for my inside pocket, and on finding it I tug at my train pass in an endeavour to get it out. Suddenly it comes out, and with it the other contents of my pocket. I bend down to pick them up, and the ticket collector eyes me suspiciously.
Eventually I succeed in gathering everything together quickly, I pass through the barrier holding my pass before me only to find that the ticket collector has left his box to go and make a cup of tea. I climb the stairs to the long bridge (coming all the way from the school may have no effect whatsoever on me, yet, after mounting those stairs I find myself thoroughly "puffed out").
I now make my way along the bridge. All is quiet at the farthest end, where my platform lies. Soon, I am nearing it. Suddenly a huge crowd appears at the head of the stairs to my platform. Unable to move forward I cling for my life to the wall.
Approximately half a minute later, the crowd has dispersed and I am free to continue on my way. Just as I reach the stairs a loud "hiss" greets my ears, and I am in time to see the 16.04 train glide out of the station. I am now alone on the platform except for the porter.
Very soon another train comes in. As it grinds to a halt I spot a suitable compartment. I step towards it, but there is somebody getting out. I stand and wait. Firstly the person in the compartment removes his suitcase from the rack. Then he puts his travelling bag over his shoulder. Slowly, he picks up his first parcel, then his second, and lastly, his fishing rod. All this time I have been unable to help him as he has been completely blocking the doorway. He now steps out and I step in.
I shut the door and sit down. The porter shouts out an unintelligible sound and, in answer, the train begins to move slowly out. But, just as it starts, a boy comes dashing down the stairs. Of course, he has to pick my compartment out of the dozens available. He grabs the handle and gets onto the outside step just as the train begins to pick up speed.. He pulls open the door and tries to clamber in, slipping as he does so. Quickly I grab hold of an arm and haul him in. He slams the door and sits down opposite to me. The other people in the compartment start saying "tut-tut" and "silly boy". After a while they make me feel guilty, whilst the boy to whom they refer, takes no notice.
The boy now crosses over to the other side of the carriage, the side at which I have to get out. On reaching my station I make my way to the door. I put my hand on the handle and pull, nothing happens. I pull again, nothing happens. I use both my hands, still no reaction. The door is jammed!
Then the boy, who had thrown himself on the train at the last minute, leans over and with two fingers gently opens the door. This is even more embarrassing as the boy is much younger than I. I mumble my thanks and quickly get out. Now it is just a short way further and I will have done it ------ the journey home!
J. Ross. 3C