The Girl on the Train 03

不列颠之味

The train isn't stopping today, it trundles slowly past. I can hear the wheels clacking over the points, I can almost feel it rocking. I can't see the faces if the passengers and I know they are just commuters heading to Euston to sit behind desks, but I can dream: of more exotic journeys, of adventures at the end of the line and beyond. In my head, I keep traveling back to Holkham; it's odd that I still think of it, on mornings like this, with such affection, such longing, but I do. The wind in the grass, the big slate sky over the dunes, the house infested with mice and falling down, full of candles and dirt and music. It's like a dream to me now.
I feel my heart beating just a little too fast.
I can hear his footfall on the stairs, he calls my name.
'You want another coffee, Megs?'
The spell is broken, I'm awake.