James swung his foot into the kid’s stomach as hard as he could twice. The kid doubled up.

“Let’s go!” Graham hissed.

“He’s got more,” said James.

“Quick! Before someone comes.”

James rammed his hand into the kid’s pocket and made a fist around the coins. He pushed against the kid’s leg for leverage and his hand popped out. Coins fell and danced on the pavement.

Graham was hopping about in the entrance to the cycle yard. James scrabbled on the ground for the money. It was hard picking up coins with gloves on.

The kid finally stopped wriggling and opened his eyes and looked at James. The kid’s dick was still poking out of his pants. James laughed. He stuffed the loot into his pockets as he stood up.

“Come on!” said Graham, making a move.

“Nah. This way,” James said. “Over the wall.”

“What?”

James took a running jump at the wall. It was over eight feet high. He got his arms over the top, then started scuffing the wall with his feet, trying to climb the rest of the way over.

“Give me a bunk up,” he said.

“What are you doing?” Graham cried.

“The platform’s on the other side of this wall. We can get past the ticket barrier without paying.”

“We’ll get caught!”

“Hurry up, you fag!”

Graham sighed loudly, then grabbed his boots and gave him the necessary boost to get onto the top of the wall. “Pull me up.”

James sat on the top of the wall, checking the coast was clear. It was. He clapped his hands and held them out to Graham. Graham climbed up beside him.

Someone was walking along the platform, but it wasn’t a member of staff. The man gave James a funny look. James doffed his baseball cap and smiled. The man continued walking.

“We’re going to get caught,” said Graham.

“No we won’t. That’s our train,” said James. “Come on.”

Then he jumped down on the other side of the wall. He landed heavily, bending his knees.

Graham lowered himself gradually.

“We’ll go to the other end of the train,” James said.

Graham looked very guilty James thought as they walked along the platform. He kept glancing over his shoulder, and tensed up whenever they walked past anyone having a smoke outside a carriage. James whistled tunelessly.

“Chill out,” he said. “You look like you just mugged someone.” He laughed.

Graham chuckled nervously.

They got into the third carriage from the end, which was completely empty. They sat down in seats facing each other, then James told Graham to shift over one so that he could put his feet up.

“How much did you get off him?” Graham asked.

James sighed and took out the money. He counted it on the seat next to him. “Looks like about twelve quid. How much was in the other pocket?”

“I didn’t get anything.”

“What?”

“There wasn’t much in there anyway, and he was squirming. I couldn’t get it.”

James laughed. “You fag!”

Someone else entered the carriage and, spotting James and Graham, went and sat at the far end.

James grinned to himself and looked out the window. A tannoy announced the train was about to depart, then the door alarms sounded and the doors shut automatically.

“What are we going to do if we get to the other end and there’s someone at the barrier?” Graham asked.

James groaned and took off his cap to flatten his hair. “You can keep them busy while I leg it.”

Graham gave him a menaced look.

“I was joking, you stupid fuck,” James said. “God.”

The train rolled out of the station. Inside the train they got all of the sun and none of the wind. James unzipped his fleece jacket and pulled off his gloves.

When they reached the next station a few minutes later a bunch of younger teenagers from somewhere else on the train got off. James had an idea. He smirked.

He waited until the door alarms sounded, meaning they couldn’t be opened from the outside. At that point, the teenagers had just passed by James’s window. Before the train pulled off, James tapped Graham’s knee.

“Hey, watch this,” he said.

Then he knocked loudly on the glass. The teenagers walking down the platform turned and looked. James pointed at them, then shook his fist in a wanking motion.

He burst out laughing. Graham joined in a moment later.

The kids on the platform began shouting abuse, but it was muted by the window. One of them spat and missed. A couple chased the train but it was soon accelerating too fast. They picked up stones and lobbed them instead.

James didn’t stop laughing until the teenagers had gone out of sight. He felt exhilarated.

“You wouldn’t have dared do that if the train wasn’t moving,” said Graham.

“I’m not scared of those faggots,” said James.

The clattering door between this carriage and the next opened and James looked round.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered.

A guy in a uniform was checking the ticket of the bloke sitting at the far end of the carriage.

“Come on.” James got up.

Graham followed him, heading the other way through the train. They passed through a busy carriage where a few rowdy groups of kids with parents were sat. That’ll keep the twat busy for a while, James thought.

“We’ll have to get off at the next station,” Graham said as they walked.

“Fuck that for a plan,” said James.

He pushed open the door into the next carriage and froze. Halfway through the passengers was a second ticket inspector, making his way through the train in the opposite direction to the first.

“What the hell’s going on today?” said James. “They never bother checking people’s tickets.”

“Maybe they’ve started,” Graham suggested.

“No shit, Sherlock!”

“What are we going to do?”

James grinned. “Hang on, I’ve just had an idea.”

He stepped around Graham and went back through the door. Graham followed. There were two toilet cubicles, one on each side of the train. James tried both doors; only one swung open. He stepped inside.

“What about me?” Graham cried.

James sighed. He hammered on the other side. “Hey, my mate’s got the runs out here! How long’re you gonna be?”

“Piss off!” came a muffled voice from inside.

“James, he’s coming!”

James sighed again. “Get in here.”

Graham didn’t need telling twice. He squeezed into the cubicle. There wasn’t room for both of them. James had to sit on the toilet seat whilst Graham stood up. Graham had to lean over him so that they could get the door shut. James locked it.

“This is really gay,” Graham said.

James held a finger to his lips. “If they hear you talking they’ll know you’re not alone in here,” he hissed. “And then they’ll chuck us off, whether we’ve got tickets or not. So shut up and be quiet.”

Graham sighed loudly.

They listened for movement in the passage. People walked past but most of them tried the doors a couple of times and then went away again.

“How long do we have to stay in here?” Graham whispered.

“Until we want to get off,” said James.

“How will we know when that is?”

“Because we’re going to the end of the line, you stupid fuck. Besides, they usually announce the next station.”

“You’re making too much noise.”

James snorted. “Shut up or I’ll take a shit in front of you.”

Graham stared. James chuckled.

The train passed through several stations. Graham was scowling, holding onto the little sink for support.

“Can I have the seat now?” he asked when the train stopped again.

“No,” said James.

Graham sighed. “That guy must have finished in the other one by now. Have you heard the door go?”

“You’re assuming he was using the toilet for pissing and crapping purposes. Though go check if you want, but I’m locking the door again as soon as you’re out, and I’m not opening it again.”

Graham grunted. The train started moving again.

James swiftly grew bored. He began plucking sheets of toilet paper off the roll. He got it down to a fine art, snapping his wrist down so that only a single sheet came off the roll at a time. He piled them squarely on top of each other in his other hand. The roll looked like it had been replaced this morning, but soon James had more in his hand than was left on the roll.

Then he had an idea.

“Hang on,” he said. He stood up and lifted the toilet seat. The last person in here hadn’t flushed. There was some screwed up toilet paper floating in the bowl.

“Oh, you’re not, are you?” Graham cried.

“Shut up,” James said.

He realised Graham thought he was going to make good on his threat to squeeze one off in front of him and smirked. Instead, he took the wad of loose toilet paper in his hand and stuffed it into the toilet bowl. There was so much of it that it took a while to absorb water.

“You’re going to block it!” Graham said.

“Welcome to last week,” said James.

“Go on! Flush it!”

Graham reached for the large button on the wall and James smacked his hand away.

“You fag,” he said. “If you flood it while I’m in here I’ll knee you in the bollocks so hard your kids will be born in a coma.”

Graham shook his head. “It won’t flood.”

“Yes it will.”

“There’s not enough water in a single flush to fill the toilet. It’ll take at least two or three flushes.”

“Yeah. Well, let’s not find out until we’re there.”

That took another twenty minutes. James heard the announcement that St Pancras was the next station. He couldn’t make out what the guy said over the crackly tannoy, but he definitely heard St Pancras mentioned.

“Open the door,” he said. “Even if they catch us now, what’re they going to do? We’re almost there.”

Graham unlocked the door and opened it an inch. He peered out, then opened it wider. He stuck his head out into he corridor, looked both ways, then grinned at James. “It’s all clear. Flush it now!”

“Can I get out of the way first, you lardy fag?”

Graham got out of the cubicle, then James followed, jamming a foot in the door. He reached in and pushed the button. Water cascaded into the toilet bowl. The wad of loo roll was sucked down, but didn’t disappear. The water level had noticeably risen. The toilet was blocked.

“Told you it wouldn’t flood,” Graham said. “Move out of the way. It’s my turn.”

“Your turn? How old are you? Five?” Then James flushed the toilet a second time.

The wad of paper didn’t budge, and now the water was halfway up to the rim when it stopped spraying down the sides. James flushed it again.

This time the water filled the bowl completely. By the time it stopped flushing, the water was bubbling up from the submerged outlets instead of spraying down.

James laughed. “One more.”

In the passage, Graham chuckled.

James pushed the button a final time. Within seconds the water was level with the rim, then it was pouring over. It streaked down the outside of the toilet and pooled on the floor.

His handiwork at fruition, James was instantly bored again.

The train came to a stop.

Laughing, Graham went into the cubicle as soon as James came out. He flushed the toilet again and hurried out of the way as water flowed toward the door.

“Too cool!” he said.

“Yeah,” said James. “Let’s go.”

They left the train and stood on the busy platform. People milled past them. At mid-morning on a Saturday, St Pancras was teeming with day-trippers. Consequently the railway staff were out in number. There were people in uniform manning the gate in the ticket barrier for people with luggage. Shit, James thought.

They walked amidst the crowd.

“You weren’t serious about making a run for it, were you?” Graham asked.

James laughed. Now there was an idea. But as he thought about it, an even better one came to him.

“Oh, this is genius!” he said.

“What is?” said Graham.

James turned round and walked against the flow of the crowd. He got annoyed looks from those he bustled out of the way, but that was just a benefit. He’d seen what he was looking for when they’d got off the train.

On the wall of the platform was a fire alarm.

James leaned against the wall beside it with his arms folded and watched people going past.

Then he went to smash the alarm.

Graham grabbed his arm. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Let go of my hand, you fag!”

Graham promptly let go.

“If I smash that, the alarm will go off and they’ll open all the barriers so people can evacuate,” James said.

“They’ll also shut the station.”

“So?”

“How are we going to get to Camden?”

James sighed. “There aren’t just bars in Camden, you know. We can save us the money we’d have to pay for the travelcard and get smashed round here instead.”

“What if they catch us?”

“They’ll be more interested in getting everyone out.”

Graham sighed. “Okay. Do it. Quickly!”

James grinned. He stepped away from the wall, made to start walking down the platform, then stretched his arms above his head. As he brought them down again, he rammed his elbow right into the glass.

The alarm started blaring immediately.

James looked around, doing his best impression of innocent concern. Graham started moving. Everyone else started moving faster. A voice echoed over the tannoy, calmly urging people to leave the station.

By the time James and Graham reached the ticket barrier all the gates were open and the staff were herding people through without checking their tickets.

“God, this might be on the news,” said Graham.

“Nah. Alarms go off all the time.” James laughed. “I’m just trying to work out in my head how much money I’ve saved us already.”

“You mean how much you’ve ripped off.”

They were shepherded out of the station, onto the street. London had a distinctive smell.

“Fuck off,” said James. “If we’d had to pay for it, we wouldn’t have come anyway, so nobody’s lost anything.”

They stopped on a corner. Two main roads crossed each other here and there was a lot of traffic. People came out of a subway from the King’s Cross tube station. There was a black guy in a fluorescent orange jacket stopping other people from going down the steps. James could still hear the fire alarm. He smirked. It would keep ringing until they found the fire, or found there wasn’t one.

“Let’s go get slaughtered!” James said.

The first pub they came to was on a corner about two hundred yards from the station.

“Just act like a regular and nobody’ll be suspicious,” James said quietly as he opened the door.

They found a table in the window overlooking the street and sat down. James lit a cigarette and left the packet on the table, making himself at home.

“You can buy the drinks,” he said.

“Why do I have to do it?” said Graham.

“Because you’re arse-ugly and ugly bastards always look older. If I go I’ll get asked for ID and then we’ll get chucked out.”

“What if I get IDed?”

James sighed out a grey cloud of cigarette smoke at Graham. “You won’t. You look eighteen.”

“But I’m not.”

“It doesn’t matter, you fag! Now are you going up to the fucking bar or not?”

Graham sucked in his lips and nodded. “What do you want? And I’ll need that kid’s money.”

James left the cigarette unaided between his lips and reached into his pockets for the cash. He lined the pound coins up on the table. Graham picked them up.

NOTES:
That the train pulls into St Pancras rather than Liverpool Street station is final confirmation that the story didn't start in Southend. I liked writing the character of James. I used to know someone like him a long time ago; not a bad kid, just completely amoral. You are supposed to wonder why Graham hangs around with him when he treats him so badly. This story (or rather, the idea of sneaking aboard a train in the way they do) is perhaps the only one that I think would be interesting to rework (and develop, probably with more amenable protagonists) into a longer piece in its own right.