The girl on the Train tracks

I Returned to my room in the B&B, happy as could be, but still mystified by the words of the family at dinner. I went straight to packing my things, taking clothes out of drawers and putting them back into my suitcase, and sorting through my things. In my haste, I again came across the photo of that family, with the woman from the reception, and the little girl with the long, straight hair and wide eyes, and it reminded me of that dream set in my school playground. Who was she? And why did this photograph keep appearing and reappearing whenever I was not in the room? I had not seen her in the village, or even in the house. I hadn't seen the man either when I thought about it, but that never really intrigued me quite as much. She looked perfectly healthy, so death wouldn't be likely, I thought. But why did she occur in my dream, in my childhood? Did it have anything to do with my first dream, about the train crash and the eerie skull? My brain was so bombarded with questions, I became dizzy and I had to take a moment to unwind. I breathed deeply and tried to get my head around it.

Then I thought about the man for the first time. Why had he not been seen by myself, or mentioned by the woman before? I know she isn't on her own in the staff rooms, but he couldn't possibly just stay in there, all day, every day, could he? Or was he not even alive? If he had passed on, and, god forbid, the girl had too, then how does the woman carry on, as she does? Surely, at least one of the two must be alive, or she wouldn't be able to regain composure constantly.

I had a eureka moment. If she had a wedding ring on, then she must still have a husband! Unless, of course, she keeps it on for sentimental reasons, but it was worth a shot. I thought hard about when I had seen her, and any memories of her hand touching mine, or seeing her fingers. There was the moment I arrived, but I couldn't quite remember if she had a ring on or not. But wait! When she handed the keys to me, I remember the coldness of the metal of her ring! But what if she kept it on for sentimental reasons? Or had found a new husband? Either way, I was sure one of them had died, and I had no idea how. I felt totally ignorant to this entire situation, even though it wasn't really any of my business.

"I'll return the photo to her later" I said to myself, folding up clothes. Once everything was packed apart from what I needed for the rest of the day, I picked up the photograph to return it downstairs. The hallway seemed unusually quiet.

"Excuse me, I found this in the room, and I... judging by the photograph, figured it must be you-" I was cut short as the woman with the frizzy bun snatched it off me hastily.

"Thank you. Why was it in YOUR room? What room number are you staying in? I'll bet you stole it!" She looked ferociously at me and I became anxious of her wild accusations.

"No! I... it was in my room when I arrived."

"Then why have you only just returned it then? Change your mind on stealing it? eh? Or did you find the thought of prying into the receptionist's private life a bit of fun?" I didn't know how to answer this. I was fascinated by the photograph, but if I told her that, I would probably make the situation a whole lot worse. I stuttered and looked blank at her, and she looked at my distress and showed sympathy.

"Sorry. I just... this photograph has sentimental values to me. I lost my little girl ten years ago. She was beautiful, little Ebonique", I felt so bad for her. It was the girl whom she'd lost. I contemplated if it was worse to loose your lover or your daughter, but figured your daughter must be worse. You can always find another lover, but a daughter is more personal.

"It's fine, honestly. How old was she?'

"Nine. She was such an angel, she knew all common courtesy and only spoke when spoken to. Jerald adored her." I looked blankly at her "Oh, Jerald is my husband. He would teach her to play piano. She played beautifully, especially given her youth. Jerald doesn't come out of the house much after we lost our Ebonique, only goes out occasionally. Sorry, I'm babbling." I smiled, as tears filled her eyes, and she smiled with me for a while. She wiped her eyes and regained her composure before calling for 'Jerald' to come and meet me.

Out came a tall, sorry looking man with a beard, trimmed to the current fashion. The area of his face surrounding his face was wet, and his eyes themselves were puffy and red. He was in casual attire, which was dirty and did not look like it was put on fresh that morning. When he spoke, a broken up sentence escaped his lips and I could tell the death of 'Ebonique' had hit him hard.

"He-llo." he managed to say.

"This is Mr..." his wife introduced us him to me.

"Pech. Mr George Pech." I informed the two of them, shaking his hand.

"I'm Mr Pleur. John Pleur. My, wife, Maria Pleur. Our late daughter, she was Ebonique Pleur, but we called her Boni Pleur. It sounds better. " He started whelling up and his wife put her hand on his shoulder,as comfort. Smiling at her, he wiped away the tear and continued, "What brings you to Lungwood, then?"

"Well, I'm here to start my dream job"

"What's that?"

"Well, I'm going to be the village's new train driver", they both looked at me in shock, and I heard Maria whisper "It's all my fault" to herself.

"Please, don't go for that job!" I was confused. What on earth did my train drivers career have to do with them and their B&B? What was bad for them and why was it 'their fault'? I asked them why.

"Have you taken a full training course on it?" Maria said, another mood swing invading her system, but this one was anger.

"Well, no but-"

"Well you really shouldn't be going for a job like that if your not trained!", Mr Pleur added.

"But I went for the job interview this morning. I got the job, and I'm moving into the complimentary home tomorrow."

"Well, you can stay here tomorrow night... on us... just, you don't want to go there in such a hurry, I mean you only arrived here last night."

"Thank you greatly for your offer, but I need to get on with things, get my life going." They looked at each other and retreated.

"Well, it was wonderful to meet you, Mr Pleur and I will be sure invite you to dinner, once I've moved in. See you tomorrow." They forced a smile, and I returned upstairs to go to bed.