A Journey that Changes everything

A Journey that Changes Everything

         The rain bucketed down as Harry emerged from the train station. Without an umbrella, he was glad that a line of taxis awaited people such as himself. He didn’t like getting wet, especially when he was wearing his new suit.
         He jogged over to the closest taxi. As he reached it, he was irritated that a young woman was also running over to the same taxi. He knew the polite and gentleman thing to do would be to allow her this taxi and find another, but there were plenty of taxis. She could find another.
         ‘Sorry babe, this is mine.’
He smiled at her, a wicked, smug smile, which to the keen eye, clearly said, Now fuck off bitch. She did as he wanted, without uttering a word.
         Good, thought Harry. Now, to my ride. He entered the taxi, said a quick hello to the taxi driver, and told him where he wanted to go. ‘That is at least half an hour to get there mate,’ said the driver, who had a rough, Glaswegian accent.
‘That’s fine pal. That’s fine.’
‘Okie doke.’
         Harry sat back. Out of the rain, on the way to see Felicity, he felt happy. And he was away from his god awful fiancée at last. He couldn’t stand her. At all. Well, that wasn’t completely true. He loved her. And cared for her a lot. But she just annoyed him. Angered him even. So he took as many business tips as he could.
         ‘So what takes you over to Marson’s then mate?’
The Marson Hotel was where Harry was going. He had met Felicity there before. ‘A woman. A fucking sexy woman at that,’ declared Harry.
         The one thing Harry liked about taxi drivers, was that chances were, you were never going to see them again. So you discuss anything with them. And because of this freedom, there was a sense of intrigue with conversing with a taxi driver. Both of you could voice your opinion in full, usually, without fear of consequence. That was in Harry’s experience anyway.
         ‘A woman aye? Nice. What’s her name?’
‘Felicity. An absolute gem she is.’
‘Not your girlfriend though,’ said the driver, a statement rather than a question.
         Harry frowned. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘Well, if she were your girlfriend, I doubt you’d be meeting her at a hotel. Either you are having an affair, or she’s a whore.’
‘She ain’t a whore anyway.’
         The taxi driver was right of course. And his powers of deduction were very quick. He glanced at the mirror, where the taxi driver was watching him. ‘Do you love her?’
‘Felicity?’
‘Yeah.’
‘No, I don’t reckon I do.’
The driver chuckled. ‘Didn’t think so. But she makes your dick twinge doesn’t she. Turns you on like fuck. I bet you two are like a couple of rabbits when you get started.’
Harry smiled. ‘Yeah, you got that about right I guess.’
         He turned to the window, and looked out at the scenery which greeted him. The rain still hammered down, and as the taxi cruised through the city, stopping regularly for traffic lights, he couldn’t help but wondering what his fiancé was doing right now. Probably irritating someone, he guessed.
‘See mate, the thing is, your girl. Your real girl. You love her don’t you?’
‘What makes you say that?’ asked Harry, now getting slightly unnerved by the intuition of this taxi driver.
Usually conversation with these people was interesting, but this guy made it more than that. It was compelling. Harry felt drawn to continue, as for some reason, he felt he must value this man’s opinion.
         ‘The look in your face, it’s quite obvious. You look guilty. Your demeanour, your attitude – confident, almost arrogant. But it’s an act. You know you’re doing wrong don’t you. You love your girl, but at the same time, she doesn’t do things to you like Felicity. She’s a fucking ride and a half, and your not ready to give that up yet are you?’
         Harry was gobsmacked. He had spoken to this man for five minutes, whilst in the enclosure of a city cab, and the man seemed to know everything about him. He was also impressed, but there seemed to be something profound and meaningful about this conversation. Maybe this was a moment of purpose in his life.
‘What are you trying to say pal?’
         The driver smiled, witnessed by Harry through the reflection of his rearview mirror. ‘I can turn around. Take you back to the train station. This will build up and up, if you don’t stop it now. Confess. End it. It’s probably not too late. You are young. Honesty comes hand in hand with forgiveness in a lot of cases pal. You’ve fucked up, big time. Maybe, your girl already knows you’re fucking around behind her back.
‘But, she hasn’t heard it from you. This Felicity, she doesn’t care for you, does she? You are to her, what she is to you. A fucking object. She’s using you like you’re using her. Your girl though. If you love her, and if she loves you, will be able to forgive you. You can stop fucking around, and get rid of that fake attitude you carry around with you.
‘Otherwise, forty years from now, you’ll be sat on your own, in some depressing fucking bar, talking so much shit that even the other drunks there won’t want to listen.’
         The driver stopped there, abruptly, but clearly where he meant to stop. He had made his point. He knew nothing of Harry, nothing of his past, but within five minutes, he’d managed to determine his mood, his feelings, and his thoughts. How he’d managed this, Harry was at a roadblock. But he had.
         And Harry felt glad he had. He felt he had been shown something he knew existed. It was as if someone had given him a much needed kick up the arse. Usually, the truth hurts, but this time, it was refreshing. Without a further moment’s thought, he made his decision.
         ‘Take me back to the station pal, eh?’