Enduring Passions Read Online Free PDF Page B

couplings and vacuum brakes, and drifting over the platform. In the dining-car white-coated staff were moving down the aisle laying cutlery on the white tablecloths complete with little lamps next to the window.
    Out of sight around the curve of the platform, smoke drifted almost straight up from an engine. But he made for a side platform and a local train.
     
    The taxi turned in under the glass canopied entrance and rolled to a stop on the cobblestoned forecourt of the red-brick station. St James’s was a small terminus, the starting place for the famous ‘Cheltenham Flyer’ that went via Gloucester and then non-stop to London, the fastest scheduled train service in the world as the GWR posters proudly announced.
    Porters with their barrows appeared and gathered around the cars.
    ‘Which train, sir?’ asked one of them. Jeremy said, ‘The one for Cirencester.’
    They moved on to the small concourse with the buffers, where the lines ended.
    A newly arrived engine was standing hissing gently, the air above its squat copper chimney shimmering with heat. The driver, a grizzled older man in a blue tunic and a black oily looking peaked cap was leaning out of the cab looking down, eyeing them all up as they went past.
    She noticed with pleasure the engine’s name – Codrington Hall. Daddy had been pleased when they had been invited to include their house name in the Railway Company’s new class several years ago.
    To reach their train they had to walk to a short side platform, where there were several coaches and two horse boxes as well as the guard’s van.
    They were walking along looking for the first-class compartments when, for a split second, she thought she was seeing things; her mind flew back to her reverie about the cinema poster.
    It was Jeremy who made her realize she wasn’t dreaming.
    ‘Good God, look who’s coming towards us. If it isn’t the little bugger from last night.’
    Tom Roxham was equally stunned. He’d been up to see the engine out of interest and was walking back to the guard’s van.

CHAPTER THREE
    He took a deep breath, guessing that, dressed as he was they would not realize he was on company business. But he was in no mood for niceties, not with this bloke. But frustratingly he couldn’t stop himself shooting a glance at her. She was wearing a cream coat with a high collar that framed her head, her eyes and lips made even more alluring by the net veil of the hat. The madness this woman seemed to engender in him had to come to an end. With a supremely professional effort he managed, ‘Good afternoon, sir.’ He looked at her and touched his cap acknowledged her with, ‘miss’ and kept walking.
    ‘Well, I’ll be damned.’
    Jeremy watched his retreating back.
    ‘Must have had enough.’
    A still stunned Fay finally pulled a face. ‘Don’t be silly, Jeremy, he’s not afraid of you.’
    That seemed to annoy him. He gave her a funny look. ‘What’s the matter with you?’
    Fay carried on walking, relieved to see Tom was all right – apart from the shiner. She hoped he was looking at her as she found the first-class carriage and started to board. She gave a quick glance in his direction, and was disappointed to see he was talking to the guard. Inside she walked down the side corridor, following the sound of laughter to find their compartment. She settled into a cut moquette seat with a generous arm rest and a white antimacassar, resolving to find out about him somehow .
    It wasn’t long before the guard’s whistle gave three shrill blasts and with a jerk the coach started to move. The sound of the engine’s laboured puffs increased then died back, to repeat again as they picked up to walking speed, and lurched over the points.
    Jeremy drew the sliding door shut, closing off the racketing echo of the wheels in the long corridor.
    ‘Soon be home, eh, I fancy a drink already.’
    He brought out a hip flask and offered it to her.
    Fay shook her head. ‘Not for me,’ but there