Nothing Else Matters

The ground was heavy below my feet, heavier than the luggage that kept me falling behind. We raced through the crowds of faceless people, nothing more than obstructions. The glowing digital clock looming over our heads told me we had 9 minutes to make it through the check-in gates and then we would be safe. Passport control, and onto the platform. Safe. In my panic I could think of nothing but the person behind me. Once I was on the train I knew that I was safe and it was all gone. But until then, I could not relax, could not look forward to the life placed so enticingly in front of me. Panic, blind panic grabbed me, and my hand was so slippery I could not let him take it. I was almost back inside my head again, entirely nothing but the singular, the old way of dealing with things. It was moments like this that had driven me to almost the point of no return…but he had saved me. He looked at me, I looked at him, into those green eyes, so full of peace and promise, and I knew that I was safe. I don’t know how he was still looking so calm, but that wasn’t the matter. He was stability now, my home and sanctuary. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.

That morning I had woken up early as normal. I had packed everything slowly over the past fortnight or so, sorted through all my worldly belongings, and taken nothing but what I needed. Germany was a great place to start afresh I thought. Take nothing but a few precious memories and sell what can bring money. Anything else is dispensable. Chuck it.
I walked out of the house with my pull-along suitcase and walked solitarily down the road towards the station, the morning so cool and still. The people left behind in the house were all still asleep. They thought I was on my way to work. There was nothing in the air but the silence of my mind. That morning I took my bag and left my house for the last time.

I arrived into London in a daze. It was not a long journey from where I’d come from, but long enough to give me the time to have the first thoughts (worries?) about what was about to happen.
London made me dazed as it was: the business, the constant motion, the never-ending whirl of colour and shade. I could not imagine having to spend a whole day standing on a station like this one; it would make me so dizzy I would get a headache, and the situation which I was in did not help.
So I hurried through, thrusting my ticket into the barrier and ripping it away again as quickly as possible, it nearly slipping through my sweaty fingers in my rush, and emerging as part of that whirl of foreigners and locals, intent on only getting to where they need to be, not a care for anything else. I looked madly around. We were to meet here, under the departure board before getting on the tube to Waterloo. Here, he had said. Right here. I felt the blood drain from my face at the thought that he may not be going to turn up at all. What if…
“Melinda…”
The green eyes were there again, the slight oddness about the way he shaped the L in my name, the distinctive shape of his head. I knew that he could never have let me down. He took me into his arms; he made me feel sane, calm in the swirling whirlwind of time and tide. We had to go.
“Come on, we haven’t got as much time as we could do with…”
So we ran. Just like everyone else. Nothing was more important than getting to where we needed to be. That was all that mattered. So we blended very easily with the crowds, part of the world; just another couple that were perhaps cutting it a bit fine.
The tube was not as crowded as I had expected. But then it was a dull Saturday; not nearly as many commuters as you could expect on a weekday. I clung to his hand on the stuffy, pokey, noisy tube train. I clung to his sanity, his love and kindness, his laughter, his smiles and his faith. I clung to his charm and charisma, his love of life and happiness, to his stability and his promises. But one thing made this different to before…you see with Nick, I knew that he would keep his promises.

9 minutes. I had seen the flash of ginger hair on the tube. I had seen it on the train up here and I had seen it at crowded Victoria. I knew he probably wasn’t far behind. I could only hope that I was wrong when I had the feeling that our plans weren’t perhaps going to run quite as smoothly as we wanted. The pressure began to build, the pressure…and the excitement. Germany, a new life, a new time, a new beginning, away from everything. So near yet so far. I relaxed into the furious determination that at times was my defining feature; I smiled and felt my lips stretch across my teeth. My eyes glistened with tears of expectancy and excitement, my cheeks rose and I looked up at Nick. His breathing was rapid and I could see him biting his lip. He only ever did that when he was nervous.

He stopped me, throwing out his arm whilst reaching into his pocket with his other hand and bringing out the big white tickets that we needed to get us through the checkout desk. Carte blanche I thought in a grim joke. Freedom. That was it.
“Here…passport?”
I drew it swiftly out of my pocket, my eyes never leaving his. We locked eyes and for a moment the world drifted away and we were back on his bed, wrapped in the soft duvet.

“Mel?”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever…you know…dreamt of getting away from your past?”
“Of course I have. I take it you have too then?”
“Yes…many times. Where would you go if you left?”
“Germany, without a doubt…”

We kissed deeply. With a shock the noise was all around once again, and with a bang, the reality came to me. Away. Far away. No more pain and suffering, no more guilt and sorrow. I grinned and turned towards the check in gates. This was it.

The flash of ginger was there once more, bringing a taint of panic back to my heart. I looked up at Nick. I knew he had seen it too.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s ok. He can’t do anything.”
The expression on my face didn’t change.
6 minutes.

“Your reason of travel sir?” I looked up at the bored-looking slightly-overweight young man in the box. He gave me a fleeting glance. I could have sworn I recognised him from somewhere.
“Err, a holiday with my girlfriend…”
“Lovely. Through you go sir, ma’am…enjoy your trip.”
That was surprisingly easy, I thought. Too easy. I looked up at Nick’s confused face. Great minds.
My breathing increased. The people all around were meaningless in my heightened state of awareness. Every touch was pins piercing my skin, every sound a bark in my ear. The colours and lights burnt right through my eyes and the smells and noise of the engines distracted me at every turn. I was fidgety, at complete unease, yet I had no idea how long we may have to wait here, in this mock-up of a posh airport departure lounge. We couldn’t wait, there was no room for it, we should go now, leave, get out, away…how dare they keep us waiting.

Even though I knew theoretically we should be safe from any threat now we were through the check-in, I couldn’t get that man’s face out of my mind. I knew him, I knew I did, I recognised him from somewhere, definitely…just, where?
Nick looked at me. We were perched on the hard white seats placed in the lounge, waiting for our train to be called. According to the boards, it was delayed. Fabulous.
“What’s up?”
“That man…at the check-in desk…I knew him from somewhere. I know I did…”
In a sudden flash, it was there. His face. I knew it. I stood up, click after click running through my head as I looked desperately around me. If this had been a film, it would have been in slow-mo.
“Get up, we gotta run!” I yelled. Nick gave me a confused look. Heads turned our way, but for once I didn’t care for the embarrassment. It was vital that we run now. We needed to go, somewhere, anywhere, board a train if possible.
People all around were looking at me as if I must be mad. Nick stood up slowly, but I grabbed his hand, my bag in the other and began to move.
“What’s going on? Why are you causing a scene? You know that’s not a good move, we should avoid attention as much as possible…”
“That man! I don’t know how he’s got a job here but he has, it’s too coincidental, he’s gonna let them through the gate obviously, we’re gonna be caught, he knew what I was planning, I don’t know how but he obviously did! Run! Run!” I gabbled the story to the watching lounge in my blind panic. They probably thought I was paranoid, mad.

We picked up speed and began to shoot down through the lounge, eventually emerging onto the platforms. There were many of them, many trains, some moving, some stationary; smoke and fumes blew everywhere. I could feel the panic growing. I looked behind, dared a glance, and like a nightmare, there they were, the mob, moving fast towards us. Nick gave me a look of horror. Finally, his emotion was coming through and I knew I was no longer alone in my fear.
Under enough pressure, I find that I can usually discover clarity in the depths of my subconscious mind. Now was one of those rare moments. My life, Nick’s life, our hope and dream of a new start together was hanging on what happened in the next five seconds. That was not enough time to sit down and find a magic solution. It required speed, agility and a great deal of luck. All of which were not traits that I normally possessed. But never mind. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Usually.
On the left was platform 7, on my right, platform 8. On platform 7, I could see the train pulling out. On platform 8, people were just leaving the train that had shortly arrived. If we could just hide in the crowds for a bit, create an obstruction…I grabbed Nick’s hand tighter and yanked him forwards, onto platform 8. The passengers gave us a wide berth; with the fear and desperation in our eyes and the 5 or so angry-looking people behind us, we can’t have looked very attractive. I could feel the angry tears running down my cheeks. How dare he ruin this; after so long, what gave him the right to ruin the day when I am going, finally, leaving this mess? I dared not look round again.
We were now amongst the others. I could hear screams and shouts behind as people were pushed rudely out of the way by the gang. We kept on running. Platform 7 was now empty, the train having gone. But on platform 9 was a train preparing to leave for Paris. The Gare du Nord in Paris: that was where we needed to get to. There we would find a second train to take us all the way to Berlin. But one problem remained. How were we now supposed to get across the tracks to platform 9? Again, not a lot of time to decide. But I just had to hope in the gods that for once, just once, a bit of luck would ensue. I took one frightened look at the people behind. It was mayhem. I could see security already on their way to the scene. As I watched in hope, I saw one unlucky woman thrown onto the tracks by the pushing and shoving. There were more screams, and the woman in her mid 30s now lying on track looked around in panic. Security were there, talking maniacally into radios. People stood and stared. Perhaps, even though the woman could be hurt, this could be our chance…I could see the 5 guys looking further down at us, trying to run through the gathering crowds to reach us. Daring and determination filled me, and I gripped Nick’s hand and pulled him further down the platform, right down to the end of the train standing at platform 9. We were going to have to take a big risk here. No pain, no gain I told myself.

As we got to the bottom of the platform, Nick gave me a questioning, then shocked look as in silence I threw my bag down onto the track, then myself.
“Come on!” I cried. He was now through the crowd, yelling in our direction. I threw him a horrified look, and then reached up for Nick’s bag as he carefully lowered himself down onto the tracks. They rattled frightening as I saw in horror a train approaching. It was still about 250m away, but it was there. All I could hear was the noise and power of the huge metal monster getting closer. All I could see was the bright glaring lights, and all I could smell were the sickening fumes. But nothing else mattered. I gripped tightly to Nick’s hand once more as we yanked ourselves over the shaking rails, as if wading through knee-high water. We were halfway there, no longer in the path of the oncoming train, but we still had to get to the other side and up onto the platform before boarding the waiting train. According to the digital display, we had 2 minutes remaining. As I threw a look over my shoulder I saw one of the nameless heavies that he had brought with him ordered to follow us across the tracks, despite the fast approaching train. That was going to be painful. I could no longer see the woman that had fallen, and just had to hope that she was not injured. I would hate to think that an innocent soul had been sacrificed for my cause. That would not be just. It seemed hours, but eventually we reached the other side. Nick hopped up, hooked up our bags, and then pulled me to safety. Jumping off my knees we leapt through the first open door to the train. I had no idea if this was the train we had booked seats on, but at that moment it didn’t matter. Through the window I watched in horror as the man ordered over the tracks was crushed beneath the relentlessly moving wheels of the huge train, left with nowhere to go.
But in that silent moment, it seemed as if all my troubles were crushed with him. The train came to a stop and I could no longer see the other platform. It was gone. The doors to our train closed and I wrapped my arms round Nick’s neck and relaxed, falling into his scent and letting myself come undone. We had done it. The G force threw us backwards into the dividing board between the foyer area and the seated part of the carriage, and I giggled with the humour of it. Nick gave me a grin and a gentle kiss. I watched out of the window as we said goodbye to London, the train picking up speed with every second. We were away.