The station master smiled to himself as he watched the figure pacing at the far end of the platform.
"Meeting a young lady, that lad is, or I'll eat my hat" he remarked to his companion. The porter, disturbed from a comfortable doze, lifted the peak of his own hat and peered in the direction of the master's gaze.
"Believe you be right with that one sir, look at the young fool. Be off and onto the rails soon if he don't watch out."
The object of their attention, a smartly dressed man in his twenties, was staring along the tracks as if by sheer force of will he could make the train appear.
His coat was folded over his arm, having settled there, after a period of changing from over his shoulders, fully on, on one shoulder, and then to and from the nearest bench. As the men watched, he began to finger the edge of the coat again, clearly contemplating another move. The mistreated garment was spared yet another removal by the appearance of the train, far down the tracks.
Dr Reg Entwhistle, for this was the name of the young fool under discussion, stared at the approaching engine. He almost looked ready to bolt, now that the object of his attention was suddenly a reality.
'What if she's changed her mind?' he thought, the tension causing him to grab at his coat again, barely noticing as he mangled the collar between his fingers.
'She could have done. She's so young, after all...she only realised her feelings for me after the accident, could she be coming to tell me it was a big mistake?'
Having nearly worn a track on the platform with his agitated pacing, Reg was suddenly unable to move, as the passengers began to spill from the carriages.
At the far end of the platform, a young woman stepped down from the train and began to look around her.
In those moments before she saw him, Reg was suddenly taken back to the previous year, the warm sun and crisp air from the memory a stark contrast to the damp, misty english weather that surrounded him now.
In front of him in this warm summer scene, sat a young girl. She was playing with blades of grass, absently forming rings and then flicking them away. He had watched her grow up from such a young age, it almost felt inappropriate that he could really dare to feel romantically for her.
"I can't believe you truely feel the same way" he heard his voice echo in his mind.
"I almost can't believe it myself" came the soft reply. " I thought I had my future all settled, and you were nothing more than a part of a school girl's daydream. All I could really focus on was my training, I thought that that was all that mattered."
" I don't want you to lose that, you know, " he interjected "it's a part of who you are, and I wouldn't want to take you away from all of that future..."
Even through the mists of memory, the shock of her reply stung him, the proud boy inside still unable to take negative responses well.
"Ha! Reg, do you really think it would be up to you? No, I'd be doing my training, whether we realised our feelings for each other or not. I'm never going to be one of these passive wives, waiting for my doctor to give me children and letting you dose me every time I show any reaction to things. "
The girl sat up, her fiery temper, controlled for so long, fully roused at his apparent presumption.
"No," she continued "don't you worry about my training, that's the least of our concerns. What I want to know is this:" she turned to face him, her whole body showing the conflict within her. She paused, distress evident in every movement.
" How on earth are we going to tell Len?"