Girl on the Platform Read online

  Mark was shocked. ‘So what did you do?’

  Pete smiled. ‘The only thing I could do! I just walked away, from her, from my work.’ He shrugged his shoulders, but Mark could see the shame on his face. ‘A clean sheet, and a lesson learned.’

  ‘Right!’ Mark had never been let down like that, but he realised how it might damage somebody, especially at eighteen. ‘So, you think that girl on the platform had something like that happen to her?’

  Pete shrugged again. ‘Dunno, but I recognise that look,’ he admitted. ‘Kind of faraway, not really caring.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘I might be totally wrong, and she’s just wondering what to have for tea. But, I do know this much…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m going to see her again.’

  Mark warned him. ‘Beware strange girls. If you’re not careful, they’ll eat you for breakfast!’

  Pete laughed aloud. ‘Shut up, lunatic!’

  ‘Hey!’ Mark jolted him out of his moodiness. ‘So, you really think we’ll score tonight then?’ Rubbing his hands together, he gave Pete a cheeky smile.

  ‘I’ve already said, haven’t I?’ He had already forgotten about the girl who cheated on him with a mate—though the image of the girl on the platform lingered. ‘Hey! Tonight might be the night when you meet your future wife. Have you thought of that?’

  Mark was horrified. ‘I’m not looking for a future wife. I haven’t got time to settle down, not when I can pick and choose.’

  Pete wagged a finger. ‘One of these days, some girl will come along, and sweep you off your feet.’

  ‘No way!’ Mark had no wish to be tied to one woman. ‘I’m a free spirit…born to play the field.’

  When Pete lapsed into silence again, Mark gave him a curious glance. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you seem miles away…again!’

  ‘Just thinking.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Not about…what happened,’ Pete assured him. ‘That’s all in the past.’

  ‘You’re not worried about me and the gambling are you, because if you are…’

  ‘I’m not,’ Pete assured him. ‘You’re doing all right.’

  Mark felt proud. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really. Okay, you’ve had a few slip-ups, but that’s bound to happen, before you get the better of it.’

  ‘You reckon I’ll beat it then?’ Mark valued Pete’s support.

  ‘I do, yes.’

  ‘So, you don’t think I’m a loser?’

  ‘No! When have I ever said that?’

  ‘Well, you haven’t,’ Mark admitted. ‘You’ve always helped me. Even when I was at my lowest, owing money everywhere and lying to you so you’d help me out, you never asked questions. You never judged me, and you never lectured me.’

  He looked at Pete, and he was grateful he had this long-time friend. ‘You know what?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think I’d have sunk without trace, if you hadn’t bailed me out.’

  ‘You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?’

  Mark smiled knowingly. ‘I would never have to,’ he answered. ‘You wouldn’t get yourself into such a mess in the first place.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve had my moments, don’t think I haven’t.’

  ‘What…gambling, you mean?’ Mark was astonished.

  ‘No, not exactly gambling, but near enough I suppose.’

  ‘So, if it wasn’t gambling, what was it then?’

  ‘Going on Ebay. I was at the computer every minute, buying this and that, bidding for stuff I didn’t even need.’

  ‘You never told me.’

  ‘It was soon after you moved into the street. We didn’t know each other too well back then.’

  ‘So, what did you do?’

  ‘I sold my computer.’

  ‘So, how come you’ve got one now?’

  ‘My plan was to be without a computer for a while, and it worked. During those few months when I was without one, the addiction went away.’

  ‘That’s what I mean. You’re different from me, you make a plan and stick to it.’

  ‘So will you…once you’ve made up your mind.’

  Changing the subject, Mark began to chat excitedly. ‘I feel like this could be my lucky night,’ he bragged. ‘They say if you feel lucky, you’ll be lucky.’ He gave a stifled cry. ‘Yes! Mark’s in town! Come on you babes!’

  He would have gone on talking, but Pete threw him a newspaper that he’d found lying on the opposite seat. ‘Here. Calm down and read the paper.’

  While Mark buried his head in the newspaper, Pete leaned back in his seat and gave himself up to the rhythm of the train as it rumbled along, making a tune as it clattered over the rails—‘Who’s the girl—Who’s the girl’—it sang as it went; try as he might, he could not get her out of his mind.

  ‘Come on, Pete,’ he muttered to himself, ‘stop dreaming! You’ll probably never see her again.’

  Mark raised his face from the newspaper. ‘Are you talking to me?’

  Pete shook his head. ‘No.’

  Mark returned to the racing pages.

  After a time, Pete was relieved to see that Mark had turned the page, and was now absorbed in an article on coloured hair-gel.

  Chapter Three

  In no time at all, they had arrived at Euston and were clambering off the train with a sea of rushing passengers. ‘Come on!’ Pushing through the crowds, they hurried along. ‘Quick, Mark!’ Pete yanked him forward, ‘the taxi-rank is over there.’ He pointed to the far end of the shopping area.

  With the crowd surging up behind them, they shuffled down the steps, then along the corridor, and now they were at the top of the steps to the underground. ‘Look! There are plenty of taxis.’ Mark peered over the handrail at the ever-moving row of taxis below.

  ‘Maybe, but there are still more people than taxis,’ Pete said, giving him a little shove. ‘Keep moving.’

  In a surprisingly short time they were climbing into a black cab. ‘Do you know any cheap B&Bs?’ Pete asked, the taxi driver.

  ‘Somewhere close to Soho.’ Mark chipped in, ‘in case we get too drunk to find our way back…’

  ‘Ssh!’ Pete gave him a dig in the ribs. ‘He’s right though. It would be good to get somewhere within walking distance of the centre. It would save us money on a taxi back.’

  ‘I just might be able to help you out there.’ The driver started the engine and inched forward, one ear pressed to his mobile phone. ‘That’s right…two young men, just the one night. Yes, they look okay.’

  He glanced in his mirror to observe his two passengers. He thought Pete seemed like a regular, responsible guy, with his cropped brown hair and dark, sincere eyes. He seemed to have an easy, quiet way with him too. His gaze lingered on Mark, who seemed a bit edgy. ‘You’re not out to cause trouble, are you?’

  ‘Absolutely not!’ Mark was offended. ‘We’re just out for a night in London.’

  The driver returned to his conversation. ‘No, they seem all right. The blond-haired one is a bit lippy.’

  Mark leaned forward. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘It means what it says…you’ve got a bit too much lip on you.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Pete intervened. ‘I’m always telling him…he doesn’t know when to shut it.’

  ‘Oh, that’s right!’ Folding his arms, Mark slunk back into his seat. ‘Gang up on me, why don’t you?’

  The driver explained, ‘No offence meant, mate. The only place you’ll get bed and breakfast near Soho is at my sister’s guest house. I’m just making sure I don’t take a heap of trouble to her door.’ He laughed out loud. ‘Mind you she’s no pushover. Right from when we were kids, she’d always get the upper hand.

  ‘There are five of us…two girls and three boys. Leila might be the youngest, but she’s the fieriest…it’s the Italian blood you know.’

  For a moment, he concentrated his attention on
the traffic lights ahead. Once they had rounded the corner, he continued, ‘As I was saying, two of my brothers got in a fight with some kids from the East End. They were getting the worst of it, when the word got back to Leila. She kicked off her shoes and ran barefoot all the way there.’

  ‘So, what happened?’ Mark asked.

  ‘She just launched herself at them…biting and scratching like a wildcat. We heard later, she’d bitten off a part of one of their ears.’

  ‘Bloody hell! She sounds like a mad woman!’ Wide-eyed and frantic, Mark looked at Pete. ‘I think we should look for somewhere else to stay the night!’

  Pete laughed. ‘Stop worrying. If you behave yourself, you might get away in the morning, with both ears intact.’

  ‘Look at it this way,’ the driver grinned at him in the mirror, ‘you couldn’t be in safer hands. If anybody gives you trouble while she’s around, they’ll rue the day.’

  When he dropped them off outside a Victorian house, Mark lingered outside. ‘Fighting off two boys…she’s either off her rocker or she’s built like an outhouse!’

  ‘She doesn’t worry me!’ Pete sounded confident, but he didn’t feel it.

  ‘Liar!’ Mark pushed him up the steps. ‘If you’re so brave, you can go first!’

  ‘All right, I will!’ Pete told him boldly. ‘Why should we be frightened of her anyway? We’re here to enjoy ourselves, not to cause trouble. All I want is to check in, freshen up a bit, and head off to the theatre.’

  While Mark hung back, Pete rang the doorbell.

  ‘What do you want?’ The young woman who opened the door looked to be in her early twenties. She was strikingly beautiful, with wild dark hair and a smile that momentarily lit up the street. She was obviously expecting someone else, because when she saw Pete and Mark, her smile slid away and her attitude was less welcoming. ‘I have no time to waste,’ she grumbled, ‘so please, have the good manners to answer my question. Why are you here?’

  Lost for words, Pete stared at her. ‘Er…’ he took a deep breath, ‘we’re here to check in for the night.’

  The young woman stepped out, her curious gaze sweeping over Pete, and then behind him, to where Mark was looking at her with his mouth wide open. ‘The taxi driver…spoke with…the owner—your mother,’ he stammered, thrown by her fierce good looks and wishing he’d taken more trouble with his appearance. She was fantastic! He felt his stomach rise to his chin, and he was trembling inside. ‘We were told you had a couple of rooms available.’

  ‘Really?’ Giving Mark the whisper of a smile, and a look that sent him weak at the knees, she looked from him to Pete. Then swinging away towards the door, she instructed in her strong Italian accent, ‘You may come along!’

  Like meek little lambs, and with Mark not knowing what had hit him, they followed her inside.

  She led them to the small desk in the lobby, where she took out a ledger from underneath the counter. Flinging it open, she pushed it towards Pete. ‘Sign here.’ She pointed to Mark who was still hanging back behind Pete, ‘You too.’

  Handing them each a pen, she explained, ‘Your rooms are numbers ten and twelve, on the first floor. Breakfast is between eight and ten-thirty. After that, there is no food to be served. And there are rules.’

  ‘What kind of rules?’ Mark felt uneasy.

  ‘Strict rules!’ She stared him out. ‘There will be no shouting or fighting; no peeing in the handbasin, and no being sick on the carpets. You will not steal the towels when you leave, or pinch the loo-rolls, and you are absolutely not allowed to bring women back here.’

  ‘It’s worse than the Foreign Legion!’ Mark muttered.

  Giving him a disapproving glance, she demanded, ‘Do you mean to defy my rules?’

  ‘Absolutely not!’ While oddly smitten with this magnificent woman, Mark maintained his refuge behind Pete. ‘I would never defy your rules!’

  Again she turned to smile at him, and when he smiled back, her cheeks coloured.

  Having both signed the register, Pete told her, ‘My friend might seem a bit odd but he’s normally well behaved. Later though, we’ll be going out clubbing, so what time does your mother lock the front door?’

  ‘My mother?’ She lowered her gaze. ‘I have no mother.’ Her voice trembled, as though she was about to cry; but then in the next minute, she was laying down the law.

  ‘These are my premises. I make the rules, and I am telling you both, the front door will be locked at one minute past midnight. If you shout, or bang on the door and make a nuisance of yourself, I will call the police and have you taken away!’

  Mark was stunned. ‘Midnight!’ he groaned. ‘It’s too early! Clubs stay open till the early hours…we’ll have to leave at half-past eleven to get back here on time!’ He appealed to Pete for help. ‘Tell her, Pete. It’s too early!’

  When Pete made no comment, she turned to him. ‘Well? What have you to say?’

  ‘He’s right,’ Pete argued. ‘It is too early, and we were really looking forward to checking out London night-life.’

  ‘So, you’re telling me you don’t want to stay here?’

  ‘No! I mean…well, yes. Can’t you please change the rules, just this once?’

  Mark was ready to leave. ‘We’d best look for somewhere else,’ he said. ‘She’s not gonna change her mind.’

  ‘You are free to go if that’s what you want!’ she told them both. ‘I do not change my rules for anyone. This door will be locked at midnight. I must warn you though, my guest house is the only one close to Soho; the main hotels are much further away. They are also very expensive, and you will not get service with a smile, like here. Also, you must pay the taxi to get you to the clubs and back again…that is, if you can even find a taxi in the early hours. It’s very difficult you know.’

  She slammed the ledger shut. ‘I see your mind is made up. So, goodbye. I’m sorry I could not help you.’

  Sweeping past them, she opened the front door and gestured for them to leave. ‘Please go now.’

  ‘Hey, hang on a minute!’ Pete was panicking. ‘Just give us a minute to talk.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I need to persuade my friend.’

  ‘Talk then!’ Closing the door, she remained on guard. ‘Please, make it quick. I have work piling up.’

  Taking Mark aside, Pete said, ‘Look mate, we’ve only got so much money. So, this is the choice.

  We either spend the bulk of our money on taxis, and hotel rooms that cost the earth. Then when we’ve had our little night out, we’ll be lucky to find a taxi that will take us back again. That’s if we’ve enough money left to pay for it!’

  Mark was really fed-up now. ‘So, what do you suggest?’

  ‘I think we should stay here,’ Pete decided. ‘It means we’ll have to be back by midnight, and I’m not happy about that either, but at least we’ll have a bit more money to enjoy what time we’ve got.’

  ‘I don’t like the idea of getting back here by midnight!’ Mark moaned.

  ‘Neither do I, but what choice do we have?’

  Mark was still hopeful that she might change her mind. ‘Ask her if she’ll just give us an extra hour. Tell her we really will go somewhere else if she doesn’t help us out.’

  ‘NO!’ The landlady had overheard them. ‘I do not change the rules for you or anyone. I already told you…the door is locked and bolted on the stroke of midnight. Go or stay, you decide now.’

  With very little choice in the matter, the boys decided to stay.

  Before she would hand over the keys, she had another rule. ‘Payment in advance, please.’

  ‘What!’ Mark was ready for an argument.

  ‘You pay me now, or you leave.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous!’

  ‘You pay me now!’ Her dark eyes flashed with anger. ‘If I don’t have my money now, how do I know you will still be here tomorrow morning?’

  ‘Because we give you our word.’

  ‘Your word is no good to
me! Your word will not pay my bills.’ When she shook her head, her wild dark curls swung across her face, and once again Mark couldn’t help but notice how pretty she was. ‘I don’t even know who you are!’ she snapped. She began brandishing the pen. ‘How do I know you won’t run off?’

  ‘Because we always pay our way!’ Pete tried to calm the situation.

  She brandished the keys in his face. ‘Do you want the keys?’

  ‘Of course!’

  ‘Then you pay me now!’

  Mark stepped forward. ‘We’re not thieves.’

  She gave a wry little smile. ‘And I am not a charity!’

  ‘Don’t you trust anyone?’

  ‘Never.’

  She watched them as they counted out the money, then she swooped it away and handed them the keys. ‘The lift is out of action,’ she said happily, ‘you will please find the stairs at the bottom of the hall.’

  Climbing the steep, narrow stairs was like climbing Everest. ‘She’s a bit of a nut case,’ Pete remarked.

  ‘Maybe she is.’ Mark was remembering her dark, moody eyes.

  Pete laughed aloud. ‘It sounds like you fancy her. You don’t…do you?’

  Mark sighed. ‘You have to agree, she’s a goodlooking woman…all that Italian passion.’

  Pete grinned. ‘I could see you were eyeing her up and down, and so could she.’ He gave a sideways grin. ‘I reckon she might fancy you an’ all.’

  Mark blushed to the roots of his hair, ‘Give over.’

  ‘I’ve never seen you so smitten,’ Pete said.

  ‘Well, do you blame me? She’s got the perfect figure; and long, thick hair you want to run your hands through; oh, and she’s got a mouth to die for. I tell you, Pete…I wouldn’t mind kissing her.’

  ‘More fool you!’ Pete reminded him of the taxi-driver’s story. ‘Don’t forget how she took a bite out of that kid’s ear.’

  Mark gave a sly little chuckle. ‘You needn’t worry,’ he boasted, ‘she would never bite my ear off. She’d be far too busy, checking out my body.’

  Both Pete and Mark were unaware that Leila was standing at the foot of the stairs, listening to every word.