By Liz Frost
“Bad day?”
“What?” Becky sniffed self-consciously and wiped at her tear-stained cheeks
“The frown. It’s making permanent grooves in your forehead you know…”
Becky looked up at the man sitting opposite her who was now smiling at her affectionately. He was
quite handsome, she thought and wished she wasn’t a snivelling mess with her face covered in
mascara.
“Michael” he said extending his hand towards her and with the other deftly retrieving a clean white
handkerchief from his pocket.
She couldn’t help feeling like a princess faced with a knight on a white charger, so she took the
handkerchief, smiling appreciatively and shook his hand lightly.
“Becky”.
Ordinarily she would have rejected any form of human contact on the tube, but it was late and the two
of them were the only people in the carriage, so there was nobody to raise eyebrows at and share a
‘what a weirdo’ look with. She’d just had a steaming row with her boyfriend, which had resulted in her
telling him that she never wanted to see him again, and quite frankly she didn’t.
She and Greg had been going out for 2 years and everything was going swimmingly until one day he’d
got a new job in the City and then everything had changed. He used to ring her every day and when
they didn’t have time to speak, he’d email her funny little messages. She used to tell everyone in her
office what a wonderful boyfriend she had, and she knew for a fact that the other girls were jealous. It
wasn’t long though, before Greg started working late and the emails and phone calls petered out.
When she confronted him about it he’d just say he was busy or tell her to stop hassling him. She was
feeling increasingly insecure and the more she asked him what was wrong, the further away he would
push her. She kept hoping things would improve, but even when they were together he seemed
distant and distracted. They had stopped sleeping together apart from the odd drunken fumble. It
was only tonight at Greg’s work function that it had dawned on her. Danielle from Greg’s office was
there all legs and lipstick. The tart. Becky could tell from the look on her face and her behaviour
towards Greg, that there was something going on. She’d come up to Becky and pretended to be all
nice and sincere but the looks that Greg and Danielle had exchanged confirmed in Becky’s mind that
he had been sleeping with her behind Becky’s back. She was furious! So livid that she’d taken a tray
of canapés from the waiter and thrown them over his head, then she’d taken a glass of red wine and
poured it down the front of his new Ralph Lauren shirt before storming out in her evening gown and
heels to catch the tube home instead of riding in the coach laid on by Greg’s company. Even now as
she recalled the look of sheer surprise on his face, she seethed with anger and hurt.
She blew her nose on the stranger’s hanky and smiled gratefully at him.
“Want to talk about it?” he said then. He’d been looking at her constantly since she’d sat down and
suddenly she felt incredibly self-conscious.
“No, really, it’s ok” she shifted in her seat and tried to fight a blush creeping up her neck
“It helps you know. To talk about it.” He was leaning forward now with his arms resting on his knees,
looking straight at her through her hair and into her pale blue eyes. Something about his posture
made her relax and she felt a warm sensation flood through her. Why not indulge in the attentions of
a handsome stranger who wanted to listen to her and make her feel better?
“Ok” she conceded, and began to tell him her story, stopping every now and then to check he
understood and was on her side.
She’s perfect, he had thought as he saw her stumble onto the train all delicate and crying. Just THE
perfect person for what he had in mind. He’d done it before many times, but this one was going to be
a piece of cake. All he needed to do was make her trust him and she was all his. He watched her
now, looking at him all dewy eyed and snivelling. She’d been hurt and was vulnerable, the perfect
prey for him to feast on. She was the deer and he was the Tiger. He liked that thought and a smile
played on his lips as he imagined what he was going to do to her later.
“You’re so understanding” she cooed. She’d been talking incessantly and he hadn’t said a word to
interrupt her. Not like Greg, she thought, who never seemed interested in anything she had to say
anymore. He wouldn’t have listened like Michael if the situation had been reversed. Yes, Greg would
have changed the subject by now and started talking about himself, or else he would have picked up a
newspaper and started reading it, ignoring her all the way home. Her thoughts wandered back to her
story and she continued, embellishing here and there to make Greg sound worse than he actually
was.
He watched her little pink hands with their neatly manicured tips waving this way and that gesticulating
wildly about her boyfriend, Greg? Yes, Greg, that was his name. He wasn’t really listening. He was
focusing on how he’d chop off the tiny white ends of her French manicured nails. How he’d cut her
long blonde hair off. He pictured her sobbing as massive chunks of it hit the floor…
Greg was running now as fast as his legs would carry him, his raincoat flapping noisily in the wind as
he dodged late night drinkers to get to the tube. He just couldn’t work it out. He’d known things had
been funny for a while between himself and Becks. He’d neglected her, he knew that, but his new job
was so stressful and he hadn’t realised how much it would take out of him. Becky had become so
clingy, constantly asking him what was wrong and wanting to talk about their relationship. It was as
much energy as he could muster to switch the television on when he got home let alone go through
another arduous telephone conversation with her about why their relationship was going so wrong.
He slowed down to a walk and massaged a stitch in his ribcage. But this? He looked down briefly at
his wine soaked shirt splattered with pieces of tiny prawns from the canapés. He just didn’t
understand where her sudden outburst had come from and he HAD to find her to sort things out.
“Michael?” She’d been asking him a question. Her big dewy eyes were looking straight at him
trustingly.
“Do you think he really did cheat on me?” she said. It had suddenly dawned on her that there could
be a possibility that she had made a mistake. How awful would it be if she had poured all that food
and drink over Greg when he hadn’t actually done anything wrong? She bit her fingernail now, and
looked at Michael for his reassurance.
Shit. He had to keep her vulnerable. He had to keep her believing that HE was the good guy and that
Greg was the bad guy. This would not work with her pining after her stupid city-wanker boyfriend. He
took her face in his hands gently and then wiped away some of her tears with his thumb.
“Greg is an incredibly stupid man to cheat on a girl like you” he said “but some men just can’t help
chasing after a bit of skirt.” He looked at her sympathetically and hoped he’d managed to convince
her.
Becky was starting to feel uneasy. What was she doing? She wasn’t even sure Greg had cheated on
her and now here she was alone on a tube with a stranger. Not just a stranger, but a stranger with his
hands on her face. She pulled away gently so as not to offend him. He’d been very kind after all,
giving her his hanky and letting her talk for so long about Greg. The more she thought about it, the
more she wished she had confronted Greg and given him a chance to explain. She pulled out her
mobile phone and saw that there was no signal.
He’d blown it. He knew he shouldn’t have touched her face. It was too familiar. He’d have to make a
mental note of that for next time. Now she’d got out her mobile phone! He hoped there wouldn’t be a
signal so she couldn’t phone him and make up.
“I’m sorry” he said, “I just don’t like to see girls like you getting hurt like that.” She was smiling back at
him now and he sighed with relief at being able to retrieve the situation. He was back in the driving
seat.
Greg gave an exhausted sigh of relief as he finally boarded the tube. He knew he’d have to take a
different line to head her off but at least he knew he was en-route. He just hoped that nothing would
happen to her. He’d never forgive himself for not being able to catch up with her in time. He thought
of her all dressed up in her ballgown and high heels, he knew she’d look out of place on the tube even
more than he did in his black tie and smart raincoat covered in canapés and red wine.
There was a pretty blonde girl sitting opposite him who looked a bit like Becky. She was smirking
playfully at his dirty clothes and hair.
“Been in a bun fight?” she said gesturing at the remnants of voulovent hanging from his buttons. He
couldn’t help laughing. They both collapsed into fits of giggles until finally he said “It’s a long story!”
“Well, it’s a long journey” she replied trying not to lapse into another fit of laughter. And so he started
to tell her the story and the more he told the stranger, the more it sounded funny and the more he felt
like he and Becky would be able to patch things up if he could just get to her in time.
Becky had fallen silent now, and much to Michael’s horror, she’d started biting off the perfect white tips
of her fingernails one by one. He wanted to do it now. He wanted to grab her and put his cold steel
knife on her neck and watch her eyes widen in terror. He could feel his penis beginning to go hard
with thoughts of what he was planning to do to her. He’d eventually kill her and nobody would ever
know it was him. He tried to draw his thoughts away from Becky before she noticed his hard on. He
fingered the handle of the knife in his coat pocket. He had to wait. He knew that. But she was his.
“Which is your stop?”
“Sorry?” She had been deep in thought about Greg. Running things through her mind. Now she was
sure she’d made a mistake. I mean Danielle was always very flirtatious and surely if something was
going on she would have been less obvious. Greg hadn’t strictly responded to her flirtation. He’d just
smiled back at her when she’d smiled at him. Oh god. Maybe he was innocent. She felt sick.
“Er, I get off at Highbury and Islington” she said, absent-mindedly and smiled weakly at him. He was
beginning to unnerve her now. He kept staring at her, his eyes seemed like they were drilling through
her skull into her brain. She wished she was at home where she could phone Greg and sort things
out. Only 2 stops, she thought.
Fuck. 2 Stops and that’d be it. He was so excited he had to pull his jacket over his lap to hide the
massive erection that was becoming obvious. He had given up trying to win her trust and charm. It
seemed she was hooked on this city jerk of hers. He’d have to use force to take her now. As soon as
they got off at Highbury and Islington, he’d take out the knife and grab her round the neck. She
wouldn’t be able to get away from him, she was only tiny.
“Me too” he said, running his finger along the edge of the blade in his pocket, “me too”.
Now that Greg had filled Sarah in on the full story of his edible suit, he was feeling so much better.
She had found the whole thing so funny that there were tears running down her face, and even when
Greg got up to leave the train she was still crying with laughter. He would be too, but his
concentrations had now turned back to tracking down Becky and putting everything right. He ran from
the train and made his way to the platform that Becky’s train would come into. He hoped to god that
he hadn’t missed her. He sat down on a peeling bench and pulled his jacket collars up around his
neck and waited.
Thank god, thought Becky as the train pulled into Highbury and Islington station. There had been
delays on her line and the whole journey had felt like an eternity. She eyed Michael cautiously and
watched him get up and walk over to stand right next to her. He was standing so close she could
smell garlic on his breath and she turned her head away subtly.
This is it. This is it. Michael’s hand was poised around the knife handle now, ready to grab her as
soon as they got to a suitably dark area outside the station. He had to steady his breathing or she
might guess that something was wrong. He smiled at her now and tried to act normal.
The tube doors opened and Becky stepped out in the night. She could just make out a figure coming
towards her.
“Greg?”
“Becky!”
“Oh thank God,” he was saying now as he grabbed her up in his arms and kissed the top of her
head.
“I’m sorry” they both said at the same time and then dissolved into fits of giggles about Greg’s suit.
They’d be fine now, thought Greg and he’d make sure he didn’t neglect her so much in the future.
Becky meant the world to him and he never wanted to lose her.
Becky turned round to see if Michael was still there, but he wasn’t. He must have got onto another
train or something she thought, a shiver suddenly making its way up her spine.
“You cold?” said Greg wrapping his filthy coat around her shoulders
“What? Oh, er yeah, let’s go home shall we?” she pulled the coat closer and let Greg take her home.
Michael’s face had fallen flat as he realised that that city twat had come to meet her. Shit. Shit.
Shit. He’d run flat out and hopped onto the train on the other platform, which was just leaving.
“Good day?” He said to the blonde girl sitting opposite. Sarah’s face was still flushed where she’d
been laughing so hard.
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