I was at KingÂ’s Cross about 50 minutes early for my train and so had time to watch the world go by at this most Harry Potterly of stations. ItÂ’s fun to meld into the background and observe people, especially as train stations are such stressful places. There were men driving a little open topped cart, which was pulling some trolleys with stuff for the buffet cars. They were sort of little tiny trains going up the platform to stock the proper big trains. Maybe envious of the size of the real trains compared to their own transport these men were uncommunicative and cross. A man was standing literally one metre from where they were, but was slightly in their way. Rather than just saying excuse me, the man in the driving seat impatiently beeped his horn. But the man in the way didnÂ’t realise straight away that the beep was for him (perhaps assuming that anyone so close would have merely asked rather than beeped), so the rude employee had to beep again harder and louder and the obstructing customer jumped out of the way. Sometimes politeness makes life much easier. But the driver did not learn his lesson. He was equally impatient with the obstructing members of the public on his way back.
A couple came and stood next to me after a few moments. The man put his suitcase flat on the floor and sat down on it. It left no room for his beloved and I wondered if he would address this. He did so almost immediately, trying to manoeuvre his girlfriend into place so she could sit on his knee. But she seemed reluctant to do so. He pawed at her leg, but she shook him off, making it clear she’d rather stand and from the grumpy look on her face it was obvious that they were in the middle of a row. I may be an observer and occasionally in the case of bare teenage legs an ogler, but I am not an eavesdropper. I only listen to private conversations that are carried out at a public volume and in any case my developing deafness means I can’t hear whispering anyway. So even though the couple were close to me I didn’t tune into their private dispute and chivalrously looked in the other direction for most of the time, only occasionally turning to see how things were developing, but pretending I was looking at something behind them if they got close to noticing. We’ve all been there with those fractious, over-tired moments which so often happen at major hubs of transport. We don’t need a fat man in a “Free Hotdog” T shirt staring at us and laughing while it’s going on. But if anyone does want that, my rates are pretty reasonable. Especially if it’s a nice juicy spat.
This one wasnÂ’t juicy. It was one of those carried out mainly with looks that spoke a thousand disapproving words. I wondered what the man had done to deserve this. He seemed quite sweet and considerate and he was pretty good looking. I thought the woman should count her blessings, rather than giving him a hard time for some perceived slight. Obviously I was making a lot of assumptions here and to be honest ninety-nine times out of a hundred I would automatically take the womanÂ’s side in such a situation, as these things often are the manÂ’s fault. But my instinct told me that this time it was the woman being arsey and looking for a fight. He was clearly trying to diffuse the situation. She had tears in her eyes, but my prognosis was that things would be fine in a few minutes. It wasnÂ’t too serious and the fella was sensible enough to be contrite, even if, as I suspected, he had done little or nothing.
Next time I looked back they were standing and hugging, so all was well. Then a tiny, bent, white haired lady with a stick shuffled towards them. She stopped and pointed at the manÂ’s jeans with her stick and pointed out that the bottom of his trousers were dangerously frayed and warned him that he might trip over a small bit of material that was sticking out around his feet.
The man was kind and patient with this ancient lady who was probably unaware that such distressed leg-wear is quite fashionable at the moment. I myself started to hide my own much more severely damaged trouser legs from the view of this eagle-eyed danger spotter.
“I’ll snip it off when I get to where I am going,” the man kindly lied.
“You’ve got to be careful,” warned the woman who presumably hadn’t got to this spectacular age without following her own advice, “Better safe than sorry.”
She carried on gently warning and chastising the man, who took it all in good spirit and with gratitude, even though I knew he could have no genuine thanks for this unwarranted intrusion, especially at this difficult time when he was about to repair the damaged bridges with his loved one. I was impressed with his patience and started wondering how I would respond if she gave me similar treatment. I was thinking, “Fuck off you nosy old bag!” would have been quite funny. And plus it would have had the added effect of showing the ungrateful young woman how lucky she was to have this kind and gentle man as her partner. I would never do that though as the woman was so sweet and frail herself, that only the cold and dead hearted could have failed to smile at her well-meaning, but inappropriate intrusion.
She finally moved off on her way. Every step was tiny, each movement an effort for this lovely old bird (and she was like an old bird, frail and fragile, moving like her bones were hollow). She had pride and dignity and despite her stature and disabilities still capable of looking after herself. I watched her sloping off with some degree of admiration and amazement. She was making her way in the world alone, even if every step she took was only a tiny shuffle forwards on this journey.
It was a genuinely heart-warming human moment and I looked back at this kind man and caught his eye for the first time and smiled. I donÂ’t think his girlfriend needed me juxtaposing my rudeness and dismissal to realise that she was lucky. She wasnÂ’t yet ready to entirely return to normality with her lover. She still wanted to look red-eyed and slighted for a little bit longer. But we all knew it was only a temporary thing. The little old lady and her sensible but misdirected comments, along with the manÂ’s measured response had taken away any last vestiges of whatever petty quarrel that she had managed to artificially construct.
