Paper Aeroplanes & Other Stories

Winter Winds

Once a week Tim made the commute from his small hometown in the middle of the countryside to the hustle and bustle of London.

Every week he sat in the same seat, that had been reserved for him by his boss; he'd drink his obligatory coffee and watch the fields and trees of home disappear, replaced by tower blocks and factories. The seat opposite him was always occupied by the same girl; she'd sit there with her headphones on, and reading a different book each week. The same books that now adorned the bookshelves in Tim's living room.

She never spoke, and Tim didn't speak to her either; he wanted to, but somehow he never quite knew what to say. He supposed a simple, "hello," would suffice, but no matter how much he promised himself that today would be the day that he finally spoke to her, he always ended up tongue-tied.

They always got off at the same stop, and she would smile at him as he did the gentlemanly thing and let her off first.

Tim felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, taking it out he saw a message from his boss - his meeting had been cancelled. "Fuck!" he said attempting to kick the bin in front of him.

"Ow!" An annoyed voice said.

He looked up from his phone to see the girl from the train rubbing her ankle. "I'm so sorry," he said mortified.

"Bad day? Huh?" she said to him while rolling her eyes.

"Yeah! My bloody alarm didn't go off this morning, I almost missed the train, and now they've cancelled my meeting. What am I supposed to do now?" He stopped talking, realising that he was coming across like an idiot, "I'm Timothy, Timothy Green," he said holding out his hand. "But you can just call me Tim."

"Nancy. Nancy-Mae," she said smiling and shaking his hand. "You could always go for a walk, London's full of wonderful places, so many things to see, things to do."

"Ugh, no. I've seen this city too many times before," he answered, before cringing at the whiny sound of his voice; he sounded like a petulant child.

"Have you, though? Have you really seen London? Or have you just done all the touristy things?" She asked him.

Just who did this girl think she was? Has he really seen London? Of course, he had, he did one of those open top bus tours last summer, and he'd been on the Eye. Tim regretted any thoughts he'd ever had about talking to this Nancy character, in fact, he was certain he liked her better when she sat on the train, not saying a word. "What do you mean?" he asked defensively.

"What I mean Timothy Green is, have you ever seen the trees in Hyde Park when they've lost their leaves in winter? Have you ever been in Margot's and drunk tea out of mismatched china, and tried every pastry they have to offer?"

"No," he said exasperated, he couldn't see the point of this conversation.

"Then maybe that's your problem, Timothy Green, maybe you don't see what's right in front of you. I've sat opposite you on that train for the last six months, every time I've tried to make conversation with you, you've hidden your head in your backpack or behind your laptop screen. Whenever I've tried making eye contact, you look in every direction but mine."

Had she tried to make conversation with him? 

Had he really missed it? 

Tim thought back over the months; there was that first time she'd sat opposite him, she'd asked if the seat was free and he'd ignored her. He'd noticed her look at him and smile, she was right he had looked the other way. There were times when he was sure that she was going to say something, he'd done his best to avoid conversation with her, why would someone as beautiful as she was want to talk to someone like him? He was a laughing stock with his glasses and his backpack; he knew what the other people in the office thought of him, a nerd, a real-life David Brent, that's what they called him. He was good at ignoring what was in front of him because he had to be, over the years he'd had to block out the comments people made about him.

"Look Timothy Green, stop dwelling on the past, come on let's go for a walk," Nancy said as if she could read his mind.

Taking his hand, she led him through the streets of London; the fallen leaves danced at their feet to the symphonies of the city. They walked and walked until Nancy came to a stop outside of a tiny cafe tucked away from the main streets, it was so small if you didn't know it was there you'd miss it. The sign above the door said Margot's; there was a little bell that rang when they entered.

"Nancy," the lady behind the counter said, before wrapping her in a hug. "I see you brought a friend, is this the one you were telling me about?" she asked with a smile.

Tim felt his cheeks heat up, and he wasn't sure if it was the warmth in the cafe or the fact that Nancy might have been talking about him, the man on the train, to someone she knew.

"Yeah, he's the one," Nancy said, so quietly that it was barely audible above the sound of the Stevie Wonder song on the radio.

They sat at a small table by the window, drinking tea and talking. Nancy told him that she was a writer, that she loved to come to London, the city and it's people inspired her. Tim thought that there was something quite romantic about that; he wondered if she would write about them.

It had seemed like barely five minutes had passed since his meeting had been cancelled, yet here they were stood on the platform waiting for the train that would take them home. Tim's bad morning had turned into the most wonderful day he'd had in a long time.

"Same time next week Timothy Green?" Nancy asked as she took the seat opposite him in the quiet carriage.

"Absolutely, Miss Nancy-Mae," he answered with a huge grin. Tim had almost forgotten how it felt to feel so happy; he was already counting down until next Wednesday when he got to spend the day with Nancy again.