The train was slowing down. A woman’s voice announced that the next station was Salfords.

“Better hurry,” said Peter. “If any more people get on this train we won’t be able to save your seat.”

“Right. I’ll be straight back.”

Paul started along the train. Most of the seats were full and he got a lot of dirty looks. The booze was really starting to take over now. He realised he was touching all the tables and some of the seats’ head-rests as he passed.

He reached the end of the carriage and stopped whilst an old man came out of the toilet. The old man nodded and thanked him wordlessly. Paul beamed and pushed through the door into the next carriage.

The trolley woman was halfway along.

“Excuse me,” said Paul as he came up behind her. “Can I have one of those Heinekens, please?”

The woman glanced over her shoulder at him. She had a teacherly look upon her face. In one hand was a half-full cup; the other hand was resting on the percolator’s nozzle.

“I’m serving this gentleman,” she said.

The man in the seat was glaring at Paul.

“Oh. Sorry.” Paul held up his hands.

He stepped back and waited. The old man from the toilet came along the aisle. Paul shuffled into a gap, leaning back into someone sitting down so that the old man could get past. Paul beamed again.

The train stopped but nobody in the carriage moved. There were several dozen people on the platform carrying bags and cases and they started to board the train.

The trolley woman moved off.

“Excuse me,” Paul called.

She turned. She didn’t look too happy.

“Got any Heinekens left?”

The woman sighed. She leaned over the trolley and held out the can. Paul took it.

“How much?” he asked.

Before she could answer, there was a loud knock on the window. Everyone looked up, except Paul.

“I think they want you,” said a sharp-looking woman in glasses by the window.

Paul glanced over. Ed and Pete and Matt and Luke were standing on the platform, goofing off. Rob was standing beside them, cradling his chin.

“We’re not getting off here!” Paul shouted.

Suddenly the alarms sounded that the doors were closing.

“Oh, shit!” went Paul.

On the station, the guys were laughing and waving.

Paul turned round, made to run.

“Hey!” the trolley woman cried, grabbed the back of his shirt.

Paul realised he hadn’t paid for the Heineken. He dumped it on the table and started running. He reached the doors at the end of the carriage. The train was starting to move. He thumped the doors.

“Goddamn it!”

He leant against the wall, covered his eyes and sighed for a moment. Then his phone chirped.

He yanked it out of his pocket. He had got a text message. It was from Luke. It said: WER U GOIN.

Paul pressed the reply button twice, which initiated a direct call. It began ringing.

The first thing he heard was laughing, then Luke said, “Who’s this?”

“It’s me. What’s going on?”

“Hi, you. Hey, what are you still doing on the train?”

“What am I doing? Why’d you get off?”

“Ed was feeling sick.”

More laughing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Paul cried.

Luke sighed. “Look, buddy, just get off at the next station and come back again.”

“I don’t know how far that is.”

He heard Peter’s voice in the background say, “Tell him he’s near Gatwick.”

“Did you hear that?” Luke asked.

“Yeah,” said Paul.

“So get off and come back. There’s a pub next to the station. We’re heading in there now.”

“And you’ll still be waiting for me there?”

There was a pause. “Sure.”

Then there was more laughing, and the call ended.

Whilst he was still standing there, the female voice announced the train was approaching Horley.

Paul waited by the doors and when they reached the next station he was the first person off the train. He ran along the platform and over the footbridge. He was now on the platform for trains going back the way he’d come, but there were no trains coming and not very many people waiting on this side of the station.

Paul ran into the ticket office.

“When’s the next train?” he asked the man sitting idly behind the ticket window.

“Where do you want to go?” the man asked.

“The next station along.”

The man gestured. “That’s the Gatwick train there, but I think you’re going to miss it now.”

“No,” Paul cried irritably. “I just got off that train. The next train going the other way.”

The man craned his neck to look at the clock on the wall. “You’ve got about thirteen minutes until the next train that stops at Salfords.”

Paul sighed loudly.

“Was there anything else?”

“No. Thank you,” he murmured.

He stepped away from the ticket window and ran a hand through his hair. He was quickly sobering up now.

And then he spotted the Hackney cabs in the taxi rank.

Paul hurried out of the station and up to the first one. He knocked on the window. The driver gestured that the door was unlocked. Paul opened it.

“Have you been booked? Are you waiting for someone?” he said, quite breathlessly.

The driver shook his head. “No,” he mouthed.

“Okay. Great. Excellent.” Paul climbed into the back of the taxi and fumbled with the seat belt.

“Where do you want to go?” the driver asked through the little hatch in the driver’s partition.

“The next station on this line.”

“What? Gatwick Airport?”

“No. The other line. The other way.”

“You mean Salfords?”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

The driver nodded and started the car.

The journey between the two took longer than it had by train, and not just because the alcohol was wearing off and returning Paul’s sense of time to normal. The route by road wasn’t as direct.

When the taxi eventually pulled into the car park at Salfords train station, Paul couldn’t see the others anywhere.

He opened his seat belt and approached the hatch. “How much do I owe you?”

“£4.30, please.”

Paul decided Peter could bankroll this with his Heineken money. He also gave the driver two pounds tip.

NOTES:
I did see this section as being a sort of coming of age story. Even though the characters are all well past adolescence, with the exception of Paul and Rob they are largely trying to delay having to grow up. They might have jobs, but they live for the weekend and getting pissed. Growing up often entails growing apart. Though for what it's worth, I'd be very surprised if Ed's impending marriage lasted a couple of years.