Second Shot (Bastille)

15: Nothing better than a seaside home

*Freddie's POV*

*June 2013*

"Are you just chronically late to everything?" I teased, flopping onto the bed while Dan darted around, throwing handfuls of clothes into a bag, my comment making him stop in his tracks.

"Not everything. Just things that happen to be important." Dan corrected, scanning the contents of the bag before nodding to himself and doing up the zip. "Right. Let's go" He hoisted both his bag and my own onto his shoulder and we made our way out of the apartment and to the train station.

We bustled through the busy crowd, brushing past all the office workers to get to our platform. Eventually, we were on the train and sat in our seats, waiting for the departure, Dan pulled out a book and slid his glasses onto his nose while I went through my camera, looking at the pictures I had taken over the last few weeks.
Just as we set off, my phone vibrated loudly against the tabletop. For a moment, I was hesitant to look at it, scared it would be Rowan again but I swallowed my fear and looked at the message that had come through. It was from my dad.

Are you on your way yet?

Me: Yes, train's just set off.

Dad: Remember, don't tell him.

Me: I won't. See you in a while.

I set my phone aside and continued flicking through my camera while the train trundled along the tracks.

A few hours later, the train pulled to a halt and Dan and I stepped onto the platform which was busy with parents and their young children although I wasn't surprised seeing as it was a Saturday morning and the weather forecast was promising sun all day. Perfect coastal weather. I quickly scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face but the mass of people blocked my view. Pulling out my phone, I text my dad again.

Are you here? I can't see you.

Dad: I know I'm small but that's just disrespectful, I'm by the exit.

Laughing quietly, I took Dans hand "You ready?" Dan nodded, trying to hide a small, nervous grimace that was drawn across his face. We weaved our way through the crowd and headed towards the exit until I spotted my dad. The minute he saw us, he sat up alertly and smiled widely, I copied his grin and hugged him tightly; having not visited him since April, I realised how much I missed him. "So, dad," I began, stepping back and joining Dans side "This is Dan" Dan smiled politely and stepped closer to my dad, holding out his hand.

"Nice to meet you Dan, I'm Matthew" my dad greeted, exchanging a friendly handshake with Dan "Forgive me for not standing, but I'm a little chair-bound here" He joked, tapping the frame of his wheelchair, chuckling amusedly to himself. Dan, unphased by my dads situation, laughed along and shook his head forgivingly. "Right, let's get your bags back to the house and then we'll have lunch" and with that, we left the station and started a leisurely journey back to my dads house, taking the route that led us through the town; passing all the stonewalled shops that I spent uncountable weekends in when I was younger.

It didn't take long for us to get back to the house and as I approached the creaky wrought-iron gate, I was filled with a comforting sense of escapism and freedom and I felt the anxious stress of my London life melt away. We stepped into the bungalow and I deeply inhaled the salty air, exhaling contently and running my hand through the wind chime that hung above the door.