A Perfect Proposal (27 page)

‘The trains will be all to hell on a Sunday,’ said Sophie’s father.

‘They’ll be fine!’ said Sophie. ‘I’m going to get a few things together. Luke, if you want to put some overnight things in with mine, that’ll be best. We don’t want to take too much luggage.’

‘Do you know what time the train is?’ asked Sophie’s father.

‘I’ll just have a quick look on the internet,’ said Sophie. ‘Luke, you go and pack.’

‘There you go, bossing him about again. That’s no way to keep a boyfriend.’

Sophie sighed and went into the study to research trains, leaving Luke to explain that he was not her boyfriend this time. She really didn’t want to know how he played it.

They stood on the platform looking at each other. There was no one else around because they had missed their train. Sophie wasn’t sure it was really her fault but she felt guilty anyway. It wasn’t good that the man in the ticket office had told them that after Birmingham there might be some disruption to the service but if there was, there was almost sure to be a replacement bus.

‘We could go home if you think this is a really bad idea,’ said Sophie, when she had related all this to Luke.

‘It was my idea. If I had my drivers’ licence we could have hired a car.’

Sophie did have a driving licence but she wasn’t all that keen on using it. She’d never been able to afford a car of her own and her parents made it difficult for her to borrow theirs.

‘We’ll give the train a go then, shall we?’

Luke nodded. ‘England is a very interesting place to visit.’

‘With some wonderful scenery,’ said Sophie, in case he was being critical.

‘Absolutely.’

‘Did you pack anything to read?’ she asked him.

‘No. I was in a hurry.’

‘Me too. Let’s see if we can buy a paper.’

They couldn’t.

The first part of their journey went smoothly enough. The train was nearly empty. They sat next to each other, looking at the hills speeding by, spotted rabbits in the fields and, as the area became more urban, saw canals, sometimes prettily done up, at other times gloomily filled with supermarket trolleys and polystyrene. They looked into people’s back gardens, deciding which families used their garden to play in and which as a place to put things they didn’t often use.

There were still fairy lights up everywhere. Sophie told Luke she felt that some of the houses had gone over the top with their Santas on the roof and choirs of snowmen singing round deflating sleighs. Luke told her that in many parts of the States these would have seemed paltry – hardly decorations at all. Sophie giggled. ‘Although I love fairy lights, I think I prefer them white and on trees. I don’t mind if they twinkle, though.’

Luke smiled down at her. ‘My grandmother is the same. She has many, many sets of lights, but they’re all white.’ Then he frowned. ‘Although maybe she has some chilli-pepper lights somewhere.’

‘She and I have a lot in common,’ said Sophie. ‘I have a set of chilli peppers in my bedroom.’

Luke and she exchanged glances. She thought he was going to say something but just then they were plunged into the darkness of Birmingham station and the moment passed.

When they finally located the right platform for their
onward journey, which was underground and dimly lit, they found it crowded, mostly with young men singing.

‘Why are there so many people wanting this train?’ Sophie asked a woman who, unlike most of the other people, wasn’t drinking extra-strong lager out of a can.

‘Some big match. Not everyone could get back last night. I think there was supposed to be a special train but it didn’t happen so they’re going to be crammed on to this one.’

‘Football fans,’ she reported back to Luke. ‘Do they have them in the States?’

‘Oh yes, but we call it soccer and they don’t usually cause a problem on trains.’ Luke frowned. ‘At least, I don’t think they do. I don’t use the train very much.’

As more young men piled on to the platform she edged nearer him, feeling protective. He was wearing a long overcoat and under it his shirt was pink. His chinos were pressed and his shoes shiny. It may not have been obvious to people not examining him closely that his coat was cashmere but anyone who touched it would feel its softness. No one would mistake him for a football fan coming back from a big match. He was wearing his scarf the wrong way for a start.

‘Did you bring trainers with you?’ Sophie asked, wondering if there was anything he could do to stop himself looking so different.

‘Pardon me?’ he said, obviously not understanding. ‘Why would I need those? I haven’t worn diapers for a couple of years now.’

Sophie chuckled. ‘Sorry. You’d call them sneakers, maybe.’

‘Oh. But I didn’t bring them with me. I thought your uncle might not appreciate a stranger turning up without proper shoes.’ He frowned apologetically. ‘I have an uncle who would have made a big fuss about a thing like that. I packed light.’

More people crowded on to the platform. She stood as
close to Luke as she could without actually holding on to him. ‘Uncle Eric wouldn’t notice, frankly. He’s not exactly gaga, but he is eccentric.’

‘Your mother told me he’s very wealthy.’

‘Did she? I don’t think she’s right. And what is it to do with her anyway? He’ll have to spend it all on care anyway, when he can’t manage at home any more.’

‘She also said that he’ll – um – “pop his clogs” any minute now.’

Even through the shame, Sophie couldn’t help laughing. ‘She means she thinks he’ll die. I don’t think he will – at least, not for a few years. He’s very healthy and I don’t even think he’s that old. No one knows how old he is, really.’

‘I thought she meant that but the terminology was bewildering.’

By now they were pressed up against each other as more and more people came on to the platform and she was holding on to his arm. It felt lovely. She looked up at him. He seemed taller close to, somehow.

The train was already several minutes late when at last there was an announcement. It was to say there’d been a platform change.

Hoping she was more on the ball than most of the football supporters she said to Luke, ‘You take the bag. Hold on to me and don’t let us get separated.’

With Luke in tow, she wriggled her way through the crowd and got ahead as they started to stream up the stairs. She was sweating ferociously, and really hoped she wouldn’t start to smell. She looked up and saw the right number platform and dragged Luke down another set of stairs.

‘We just have to trust they won’t let the train leave without us,’ she said as they went down the steps.

‘Or without all the other people who were waiting for it,’ said Luke, panting slightly.

‘To be honest, it would be a lot pleasanter if they did abandon them but I suppose that wouldn’t be fair.’

They were among the first on the platform but the train was already fairly full. Sophie didn’t let Luke get on straight away but shouted to him to follow her down to the end of the train where, with luck, it might be less busy and possible to get a seat.

It wasn’t. She got on to the train to discover it was full of students. Going by the amount of dirt on the rucksacks that filled the luggage rack, they had probably been on a field trip, studying mud and bringing samples home on their clothes.

She was just going to get out again to fetch Luke when she felt the train start to move. Please, oh please let him be on the train, she prayed silently. Then she saw him up the other end of the carriage, surrounded by football fans all shouting and calling to each other as they tried to re-establish contact with the people they’d been travelling with.

She could only see Luke because he was tall. She was tall herself but there were hundreds of male bodies between her end of the carriage and his. She decided she couldn’t leave him alone. Anything could happen. Someone could take against his shiny shoes or his overcoat and attack him.

Being slim and female was definitely helpful. She wriggled her way down the carriage, smiling and apologising until at last she got to the end. Luke had disappeared.

She was wondering if she could page him somehow, by getting the train manager to announce him lost, when she found him. He was in the space between two carriages, squatting down next to a group of students, chatting away.

‘I was worried about you,’ she said, annoyed to hear herself sounding reproachful.

‘No need. There aren’t any seats, are there?’ he asked.

‘There might be right up the other end of the train but I doubt it and I’m not going to go and look.’

‘I could go!’ Luke stood up.

‘No, it’s not worth it. It’s quite comfortable here, isn’t it?’ She looked around. Three male students were looking at her. They all nodded.

‘Would you like a drink?’ One of them pulled a can of lager out of his pocket. ‘Only got one spare, I’m afraid, but you could share.’

Before Sophie could even worry about Luke declining too politely, he’d said, ‘Thanks, I’m really thirsty,’ taken the can and pulled the ring cap. ‘Here, Sophie, you go first.’

‘This is very kind of you,’ said Sophie, sounding terribly middle-class and English to her own critical ears. Then she belched. She handed Luke the can without looking at him, made a rueful face at the students and everyone laughed.

Luke and the students were comparing educational systems when Sophie realised she needed the loo. Even half a can of lager was enough to do this to her and she felt grateful she didn’t have to fight her way past all those fans again. They were singing now and sounded very drunk. She fought her way into the cubicle convinced she’d made a terrible mistake. It wouldn’t have been easy if they’d stayed at home but this journey was completely hellish. Luke would have a terrible impression of England and never come again. Sophie found this thought extremely sad.

At last they were on Uncle Eric’s doorstep. Uncle Eric himself answered the door. ‘Is that you, Sophie? Family thrown you out? And you’ve got a man with you. Eloping, what?’

Sophie kissed her uncle in a rush of love for him. In that instant she knew that if Luke didn’t ‘get’ her great-uncle, she’d go right off him. ‘No Uncle-Eric-dear, we’re not eloping and the family haven’t thrown me out. We’re just escaping.’ She paused. ‘And I did ring and tell you we were coming.’

‘So you did. Well, come on in, don’t stand there letting the heat out. Are you going to introduce me? Or don’t you know his name? He could just be some scruff you picked up in the road. I know what you’re like.’

Luke laughed. ‘I’m Luke Winchester, sir,’ he said, ‘and I met Sophie in New York, not on the road.’

‘Yes,’ Sophie explained, ‘I met Luke’s grandmother and then Luke.’

Uncle Eric frowned. ‘Sophie, I don’t like to mention it but is he – you know …’ He cocked his head in Luke’s direction. ‘American?’ he said in a stage whisper.

‘Yes he is, but it’s all right to mention it. No one will accuse you of being politically incorrect. It’s not generally considered to be a handicap.’

‘Humph. I’ve never taken much to Yanks,’ said Uncle Eric, ‘but if you’re a friend of young Sophie’s I’ll give you house room.’

‘I’m honoured,’ said Luke and Sophie relaxed. Luke did understand Uncle Eric.

‘Uncle Eric, do you mind if we stay for a couple of days? As I said on the phone, we’d really like to go through that box of papers you found. I’ll make sure we don’t make any work for Mrs Thing. I mean Mrs Brown.’

‘She doesn’t object to being called Mrs Thing,’ said Uncle Eric. ‘She knows I’m an old man and can’t remember names.’

‘Yes, but I’m not an old man,’ said Sophie.

Uncle Eric made a wide gesture. ‘Of course you can stay. Bags of room. Far too big a house for a single man – so they keep telling me.’

Sophie beamed at him. ‘And what about something to eat? We’ve been travelling for four hours and we’re starving.’

If he’d remembered to tell Mrs Brown they were coming she might have cooked something.

‘Good God, then you must eat!’

He obviously hadn’t remembered to tell her, or if he had, she hadn’t taken the hint and left supper.

‘Go and have a look at what’s there,’ he went on. ‘There’s always toast and that brown stuff—’