she is so beautiful

KERCHUNK?KERCHUNK?KERCHUNK. Goes the train.
OI?OI?SAVELOY!! Chant the voices on this balmy September day.

I waken abruptly? startled, blearily to the familiar sounds of voices
that are an integral part of my life; my eyes squint to adjust to the
temporarily unfamiliar forgotten setting, light, movement and the noise
of people all peppering my brain simultaneously. I lift my head or try;
it's in some kind of sticky mess?. Beer? I have to almost peel my face
away from the top of a table as I adjust.

KERCHUNK?KERCHUNK?KERCHUNK. Goes the train
OI?OI?SAVELOY?OI?OI SAVELOY?OI?OI. Chant the voices on this balmy
September day.

These muffled cheers are to my right, so I look and there are those
five familiar faces, faces I've grown up with.

Outside the carriage window they're grinning back at me like demented
yokels, they're pointing at me?. These fellows of disrepute are Pockle,
Spencer, Aidan, Spanner and Crafty.

They are running next to the train all gesturing with one hand flicking
their wrists, all shaking an imaginary sauce bottle, up and down, up
and down.

OI?OI?SAVELOY?OI?OI SAVELOY?OI?OI, they bawl in tuneless unison.

"Milroy, you're a wanker, you're a wanker, what are ya, what are ya?"
It's Pockle my best friend pointing at me sprinting now alone to keep
up with the accelerating train.

As it speeds away he points to the table where I've just rested my head
in a sticky beer stained slumber. On the table lays a piece of paper,
and on the paper the word in scrawled capital letters is 'CUNT.' My
so-called friends jeer on the outside while I on the inside watch heavy
headed as my train pulls away from my intended destination. But they've
let me sleep through?funny joke, yeah right, hilarious innit?

" Yes?. I am a wanker? no question about it, yeah a complete and utter
wanker no fucking question about it." I sigh fed up, Pockle still
sprinting now shrinks and blurs and then he's a dot and then he is
nothing. I could've got up and made a dash for the door, but I really
can't be arsed.

So now what do I do? I get up slowly is what I do and I decide to
stretch my legs and maybe find the Ticket Inspector. And as it so
happens I have perfect timing.

"Excuse me mate," I've spotted my man almost immediately, the Ticket
Inspector is all sharp creases and shiny, pristine blue uniform and
aftershave more corrosive than napalm? I sense fun, he turns smiling
and then frowns like my pissed off headmaster used to. This is an
important man; he has a clipboard, a ticket punch, the option of
wearing a ridiculous hat, which he does opt for, and finally a
walkie-talkie.

"Yes sir what can I do for you?" He says, the sir sounds reluctant, I
think he may have pondered for a split second before deciding
professional etiquette outweighed his personal disgust for me.

"I've just missed my stop mate?I was asleep when the train came in a
few minutes ago."

He nods his head, with an expression like he has pond life squelching
in his shoe. "Weren't you with that London mob?"

"Yes that's correct," I say politely, "I was with a group of gentlemen
from the capital, I guess it must have slipped their minds to waken me
when they alighted."

"Minds eh?" He says sneering. " I doubt that; I very much doubt that
somehow. So what do you want from me my friend?" He says this
all-official like; I can just barely control the urge to put my nut on
him.

"Well? what happens now? I mean how do I get back to where we just
left, so I can join my colleagues on our business trip?"

He smiles wryly glancing at my Chelsea shirt. " Up for the game are we?
Well if you are you're truly knackered my friend."

"Oh! And why would I be knackered," I say, " there are plenty of stops
I can get off at, plenty of stops where I can get a train coming back
this way no?"

He shakes his head. "Nah! Sunshine only place you can get a train to
here is Sheffield, and that's about forty minutes away?but the thing is
the points are playing up just outside Nottingham coming back this way,
so I think you might have a job getting back in time for the game." His
smug grin is really provoking me.

"What about getting off and getting a bus back, I mean I could get off
and get a bus back yes?" I suggest this hopefully.

"Could do?I s'pose" he looks at me, I get the feeling he's trying to
disguise the feeling that this is exactly what he wants me to do.

" Well what do you suggest then," I'm getting pissed off now. He
breathes in sighing as if he is bored with me.

"These small towns?well lets just say the bus service could be a bit of
a lottery, but don't let me stop you though, next stop is fifteen
minutes away."

"Fuck."

"Don't worry sunbeam, I shan't charge you for overstaying your
welcome." He gives me one last disparaging look and trundles off down
the carriage.

I'm glad he's gone I've been downgraded all the way from a sir to a
sunbeam in just a few minutes? if the conversation had continued it
just might have got a bit personal? even physical.

No help at all though, after I wash my face in the toilet I traipse
back to my seat via the train restaurant with a beaker of something
lukewarm and some dodgy pastry extortions called sausage rolls.

I'm pondering on a multitude of things, bus services in the north,
pounding my fist on arsehole Ticket Inspectors, headaches, food on
trains and the things I will do to Pockle when my fingers are around
his throat and then...

"No I'm Canadian silly," the voice is soft, lilting and laughs
melodically, it jolts me and I'm of course drawn immediately to look
for its owner, adjacent to me three passengers sit, they appear to be
enjoying them selves in light conversation.

There are two girls? blonde, pretty, naturally pretty not false, they
could be sisters but...no they're not. I can see by their relaxed
posture their body language and their smiling attentive gaze that these
girls have been brought up to be sweet and polite. Well they would be
they're Canadian after all or one is.

Opposite them is their detractor, a male? shambolic in dress with
tousled brown hair, his expression is one that you would take for being
dim, he is mortified by his mistake? but this is a boy who is touched
by wealth and this is a thing that cannot be disguised by scruffy togs
and greasy unkempt hair.

"Never, never call a Canadian an American," continues the same girl
nearest to me, I can only see her profile, "it is not the thing to do,"
she giggles again, there is a sweet natural innocence in her laugh that
is making it hard for me to look away, I'm beginning to have tiny
imaginations.

"I am so terribly, terribly sorry, how stupid of me and how rude of me
to have assumed that you are American," this boy sounds like my
solicitor, a voice like tuned crystal, his face carved from granite
Romanic stone, upper class for sure.

His eyes are fixed on the two ladies in that quiet lethal English way,
apologising yes but hating every minute of it, these two young ladies
probably wont know anything about our class system.

"Don't fret Joe, it's no big deal, just don't do it again? we'll just
kill you next time," now this is the other girl, not so much innocence
here when she laughs its more?earthy?primal even, is she sending out
signals to royal Joe here?

I can't quite see her face fully but just the tiniest glint of a
predator in royal Joe's eyes tells me he likes what he sees. "BY the
way my name is Theresa and my sweet little friend here is Amber." She
continues mischievously.

"Very pleased to meet you Theresa?and you Amber, err?my name
unfortunately isn't?err? Joe? Its actually Giles, Giles Carvel," well
that figures doesn't it? Excellent a no nonsense blue blood name right
out of a Cartland novel.

"Hi Giles," replies Amber, "don't mind us we flirt and call every
handsome male stranger Joe?until we get introduced properly that is,"
she laughs softly again teasing him.

"Gosh!!" Says Giles, his face is now scarlet but he knows he IS
handsome.

What follows then is a lot of giggling from the girls and a lot of
bashful expression from Giles, his poncey voice is going down a treat,
his act of naivety mixed with English charm is melting Theresa's heart
I can tell, she might be a good girl from a good family but I just get
this feeling about her.

She is up on her seat, her back is arched leaning across the table
getting ever closer to Giles without realising, resting her chin on the
back of her hands, I can imagine Giles is getting quite a hard
on.

She is smiling the perfect gleaming North American platinum blonde
smile, she's captivated by Giles, and her laugh is excited and
energised.

Little Amber meanwhile sits back forgotten, arms crossed smiling at
this show of sexual chemistry in a worldly-wise fashion that belies her
tender age.

"So you're over here for a while I take it?" Asks Giles.

"Yah, you could say that," replies Theresa a little more
solemnly.

"Touring Europe?"

"No, well yes and no," she turns to her friend, "Amber do you want to
tell him, shall we tell him?"

Amber shrugs, indifferently but so cutely, God I want hear her speak,
and in fact I'm longing to hear her speak again. Jesus! My
eavesdropping technique is appallingly blatant and intrusive; it's
amazing they haven't noticed.

"We're visiting my family in Scotland," she says, her voice is pure
honey untainted soft, smooth honey yes but with a little tinge of
sadness, "we would like to tour around for a week or so but the nature
of the visit means I'm going to respect my Aunt's wishes first."

"Oh I see," says Giles picking up on the tone, " Look I'm sorry if I'm
being rude or intrusive, but I do sense this is not entirely a fun
holiday you're on."

Amber looks at him, I don't know if she is looking for a Poker tell or
what, is this boy genuinely concerned, is he honest, I could tell her
and yes it would be a guess but then I'm very good at guessing. She
however gives him the benefit of the doubt.

"Yeah?you're right this is not a fun vacation," she replies, " you see
my Dad passed away last year, so now I'm over here because I promised I
would visit, you see my Aunt, Dad's sister isn't going to be able to
come out again to Canada, so I said I would visit after our grieving
had settled down? and meet the Scottish side of the family."

"Oh that is so tragic, I'm really so sorry to hear that," replies Giles
nobly, " I know I couldn't bear life without papa, and I can't imagine
how you've managed to come to terms with losing your father."

"Oh but I haven't, and I doubt I will or will ever want to."

Her voice has a fresh honesty about it, and Giles is looking a little
lost he wasn't prepared for this; it would be cruelly amusing if it
wasn't for the fact I'm as devastated as him.

There's that awkward silence you get as people adjust to the impact of
situations like this, I'm almost cringing at the embarrassment Giles
must be suffering, it's as if I'm Giles. I'm looking directly at him
and for this time and this time only I'm trying to inspire him to dig
his way out?when she suddenly turns and for a moment she looks directly
into my eyes.

It's only a tiny particle of a second, but that glimpse of her face
full on is enough to demolish me, her beautiful oval green eyes layered
with curiosity, sadness, intelligence and decency disarm me, and when
our eyes do meet there is an immediate intensity, a connection and
finally the briefest hint of a sorrowful reflective smile secures me
fully. I gasp quietly for air, my eyes are locked onto her unable to
turn away. But in this miniscule fragment of time after unknowingly
paralysing me, she turns back to Giles and Theresa.

"Are you alright Honey?" Theresa asks her friend tenderly.

"I'm fine Babe, really I Am." She replies with a false chirpiness.
Giles looks crestfallen that he can't pick up the ante and make the
silk purse out of the sow's ear.

I'm shell-shocked too; I've just seen an angel, an angel with a perfect
face that smiled back at me.

The conversation re-ignites but I'm in too much of a daze unable to
listen I'm trying to evaluate what happened a moment ago, Giles is
mumbling something uninspiring and Theresa is butting in here and
there. Then her?Amber's voice recaptures me.

"I miss my Dad so much," she says, "Oh God I miss you so much Dad," she
is leaning back sobbing and I can't see her, but I can see Theresa, she
has a tear in her eye and now I can see her face full on, she glances
at me full for the same micro second as Amber did only no impact this
time, she turns her gaze back to her friend. I see now that her beauty
is different to her friend's, it's a dynamic brutal beauty, pure yes
but without innocence of Amber's, Theresa has a competitive allure, she
is prepared to swim in the deeper waters for the bigger and more
dangerous fish.

"Hey babe we all miss your Dad, he was like a father to me and he was
an absolutely awesome dad loved by every body." I see her hand caress
the cheek of her friend; Theresa despite being ambitious is a genuine
loving friend.

"Look Amber," says Giles, "I've not got the right to say I know you at
all really, but I from the few moments that I've talked to you I
already think that you're a wonderful girl I'm already convinced of
this, and wonderful kids usually have great parents well I find that
anyway, and your dad must have been a helluva happy man to be presented
with a daughter like you. So I say this and forgive me if I intrude,
but instead of grieving for your father, why not celebrate what he did
with his life and get on with living yours, it's what he'd want and I'm
convinced of that too."

Bravo!! Oh well done Giles, bloody well done. A moment passes and I can
see Theresa alternating her glorious smile between Amber and Giles, her
eyes are glistening, Giles has gone back to bashful toff mode but even
he is fighting off the emotion, and I can hear Amber laughing and
crying at the same time, and then she leans forward and kisses him on
the cheek, I now want punch the chin that connects to that perfect
cheek and break a few perfect teeth.

" Geez! Thank you Giles, that was such a beautiful thing to say," and
indeed it was if you were stupid and na?ve or brought up in a cocoon of
decency.

"Oh it was nothing." Blusters Giles.

Oh but it was something Giles, it's gained you a foothold, for what end
I don't know but I'm listening carefully to everything you say
now.

Amber blossoms, she suddenly can't say enough about her father it would
be corny if it weren't so genuinely true. She talks of long walks in
winter with her dad along deserted east coast shorelines to forgotten
churches, their mutual love of the wilderness of nature and the
traditional fabric that make up their magnificent country, the history,
the music, the people and the list goes on but never becomes
tedious.

A girl who lost her father way too early, a girl who can mesmerise a
reprobate like me just by expressing her love for a father, a father I
can only envy that she had and now can only be full of shared remorse
that she's lost him.

We then all sit in a restrained respective silence .No eye contact just
gazing dreamily left and right, down at the table and out of the
window.

"Look I've got an idea," say Giles suddenly during this reflective
lull, " now shoot me down if I'm being forward."

"Go for it," says Amber cheerily.

"We can only say no," says Theresa.

"Well," says Giles, he's thinking hard, " it's a bit of a coincidence
really, you see next weekend my friend Hamish is getting married? big
wedding it is?the whole thing, big country house just north of Perth
private caterers, big marquee, beautiful countryside? the lot."

"WOW!! Sounds BIG and good, where is Perth though?" says Theresa
enthused.

"Congratulations to your friend Giles, I love weddings and I'm a sucker
for fairytale weddings in particular, this one sounds fantastic,"
gushes Amber.

"You're absolutely right? it's going to be fantastic, and if you both
want to, you two can be there."

Giles has a friend called Roderick; both were going to this wedding
unaccompanied? until that is when fate delivered Amber and
Theresa.

"I don't know, I really don't know," Amber voices concern, "my Aunt
might be offended if she has things planned."

Theresa frowns; I think she'd like push a little and persuade Amber to
think otherwise.

"No pressure," says Giles coolly, " but the offer is there if you want
to come?look I'll give you my number shall I?" He produces a pen and a
perfect winning smile.

Yeah but that's life isn't it? I can sit back relaxed now and excluded,
Amber was a nice dream for a moment. She lets Giles write the number
down on the inside cover of a book she's reading and this could be the
beginning of a beautiful relationship, oh silly me for thinking a dream
girl would be interested in a mutt like me?Amber Milroy didn't sound
right anyway. Maybe I have dream girls like this everyday?perhaps my
beer addled brain can't remember them? But no, no way she is so very
beautiful and I've never ever felt like this before.

The girls excuse themselves and disappear off in the direction of the
restaurant. Giles waits and then with a smile of Dick Dastardly taps
out a number on his mobile?his grin contains too many perfect teeth for
my liking.

"Hi Rod?yeah it's me Giles?long time no see mate?. fine? how's things
with you?good, listen I'm ringing about the wedding? I've got really
good news I think."

They talk for a few minutes about the girls and things, and it's always
interesting to hear how the other half live, holidays, expenses paid by
Father, Uncles and doting grandparents, fast cars and homes dotted
around the world? but not a penny earned from a moments hard graft,
yeah interesting but it's also like being baited, like a finger
prodding you in the chest repetitively lecturing and rubbing it in how
it all is, how it will always be. It's too, too much, I'm normally a
man who needs a reason to be violent?but sadly not much of a reason and
GOD today I want that reason so much.

"Yeah and if we get bored with them we can?FUCK EM AND CHUCK EM," he
hoots, and unknown to Giles he's just delivered me the goods. He says
goodbye to his chum and spins his mobile in his hand like a con
artist?and then a smug job well done smile cracks across his face. He
looks up and he sees me grinning back at him. He gives me a sly
wink.

" Good footie team," he says gesturing towards my Chelsea shirt.

"Yeah, well I like to think so."

"Yah?my friend has a season ticket at Highbury?I?"

"I hate Arsenal and I hate their fans even more," now that does take
the wind right out of his sails.

"Oh!!? Ah! Well I'm not an Arsenal fan in the strictest sense?more a
football fan really?I just catch the odd game here and there."

"Expensive seats no doubt? But not a penny from your pocket eh!!
Giles?"

"Pardon?"

"I hate your kind the most? I'm not sure whether it's just blatant
jealously or what? and I do try and convince myself it's some kind of
honourable thing that real fans should occupy those seats?whatever that
scummy team maybe. But no it is jealousy, and YOU lot do make me sick
the way you just walk in and takeover." I get up and tower over him.
"Stand up will you Giles."

"What?"

"I said stand up you cunt," there are no other passengers at this end
of the carriage? and the train is now slowing.

"Look man? I don't want any trouble," he's looking at me with pathetic
puppy dog eyes.

"BUT I DO," and I backhand him across the face, my middle ring finger
tears his lip and a little trickle of blood appears on the corner of
his mouth, now his teared eyes are that of a blood raged hound and he
rises. He is taller than me and this gives him confidence.

"WHAT THE FUCKING HELL ARE YOU PLAYING IT AT MAN?" Oh dear!! He's now
right in my face with a stale breath that would skin a cat and he
sounds just like a stroppy old history teacher I used to hate bait and
correct all the time, so what better reason to arc my neck back and nut
him?right across the bridge of the nose, there is a satisfying crack
and now he kind of stumbles back holding his big beak. "You fucking
bastard," he squeals so I punch him in the family jewels a few times.
This makes him keel forward and I grab his hair at the back and dust my
knee with his face, BAM, BAM, BAM.

"I don't play Giles, this is what I do?this what I'm good at?it's my
FUCKING GIFT." The puppy dog eyes are back?he's lying there hoping
there's going to be no more, it's a forlorn hope?cute dogs don't get
away with it so why the fuck should Giles? This time I go to work on
his knackers with my foot. "FUCK EM AND CHUCK EM?eh Giles? Nah not
tonight for you Josephine? and not for a good while mate."

He groans and lies there helpless probably semi conscious?I have
suffered the pain he will suffer tomorrow?he'll survive? but now I have
to obviously leave, I don't want Amber to see me associated with this.
"Bye Giles? no hard feelings eh?" But one last hearty kick to be sure
he won't be getting any down there for a while.

I make my way to the nearest exit, the train stops somewhere.

I meet the girls full on as I make my leave, just in the junction where
two carriages join. Amber is in front with a can of coke and some
sarnies in her hand? I should step back and let her through but I turn
sideways as does she and we both try and sidle past each other?but
there isn't room and our bodies like magnets connect, we're facing each
other, our eyes locked, mine mesmerised, hers kind of bemused like an
inquisitive doe. I pin her without actually restraining her, nothing
sinister I just want her attention for a moment.

"Hello Joe," she says softly after an awkward silence.

"Hello," I say not budging, my eyes still fixed on her.

She glances at Teresa and raises her eyebrow questioningly?then back to
me. "Is?is?there anything I can do for you Joe?"

"Yeah!" I say, "You can do me two favours." I stop intentionally.

"I Can?" She's puzzled momentarily, "Ok ?shoot Joe what do want me to
do for you?"

"Forgive me."

"Forgive? you?"

"Forgive me?just say you'll forgive me."

"But?forgive you for what? You've done nothing to me."

"Just say the words will you? I really have to go."

Laughing she says, "Ok...ok I forgive you for whatever you have
done?now what else do you want?"

I lean forward and I know this is cheesy, but I kiss her hard and full
on the lips, she's defenceless pinned, her arms splayed and like
fragile membrane wings, flay, but she doesn't have a chance to push me
away, the kiss is long and deep searching, at first there is a minimal
resistance? but quickly a quiver and then a surge of tingling warmth
that rises through my body that is indescribable. I pull back and gaze
into those beautiful glistening excited deep green eyes.

"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen? and because of that
I needed to do something that would never let me forget you," I say
this quickly and then I slide away out of the carriage past Theresa,
leaving both girls looking stunned.

The train almost immediately pulls away and this somewhere is the
middle of nowhere, a picture postcard of quaint little England.

I'm shaking and sweating?I'm even?emotional?crying even?bloody hell.
I'm crouching? and now I think I'm having an anxiety
attack?fuck!!!

I have kissed many girls before and none of them have had that effect
on me before?Jesus. The train has pulled away and I can imagine Amber
and in particular St. Theresa isn't too impressed with the state I've
left Giles in?whatever if only she knew. He and his slime ball blue
nose pal would have got nowhere anyway?what the fuck was I worried
for?

"All right mate?"

I turn and another of British Rails devoted stalwarts is looking down
at me all concerned, again dressed in full attire.

"Yeah I'm fine, just missed me stop though, so I do need to get back to
the city."

"Oh! I see?err?well I think you might be knackered if you want to get
back for the game." He points to my shirt.

I'm laughing. "No worries mate, I just knew you'd say that."

He looks at me like I'm a loon and then explains that there is no train
for at least an hour, and a bus isn't due for at least two. A taxi will
need a loan to pay for it so with this info I've half decided to head
straight back home to the Big Smoke. He wanders off telling me the
station cafe does a nice lunch and in return I give him an appreciative
wave.

I stand up and breathe in a gullet full of clean English country air;
this may well be my very first taste, it's good. This nowhere is a
delightful, but I think a deceptive place.

Here it is still summer warm, calm and serene. I look left in the
direction of the departing train?along the platform in this little
nowhere are three tiny whitewashed stone buildings standing as they
have been, unsullied, untouched by progression for the last hundred
years, in the distance there are rolling green hills buffering up white
feathered pillowed clouds as they shimmy across the blue sky, my train
is heading seemingly for those dream hills. At the top of one there
appears to be a building an abandoned romantic fort perhaps? I wonder
if this train was taking me to a different more idyllic destiny, a
destiny that frightened me so much I had to get off.

I look to the right ? and a relatively modern iron footbridge looks out
of place with this quaint little station; further along the traces of
the outskirts of a dirty town are more prominent down the track? black
clouds are approaching they've come to pull me back before I escape. In
this direction is a destiny I'm more comfortable with booze, the boys,
the job, the fights and girls pretty but as hard faced as the city?the
depression. The continuance of a slow suffocation waits in this
direction.

Perhaps though I could remain here? for a while at least, I can feel my
shoulders lifting rather than hunching under the pressure of it all,
with each second I feel fewer motives to be angry and my head is
clearing. A way off I can see a garden belonging to a big, big house. A
small paddling pool is sitting there along with a baby slide and swing.
The station bloke appears again.

"Just letting you know sir a freight train will be coming straight
through in the next ten minutes, it's not a passenger train and won't
be stopping."

"Ok, cheers," I say, he could be an example to his colleague? a nice
guy.

Then the sound of 'Blue is the colour,' erupts from my back pocket. On
my mobile phone, Pockle is waiting to berate me.

"Where are you man?" He orders an answer.

"The middle of fucking nowhere, no fucking thanks to you
dickhead."

"Why didn't you get the next train back? You Plank."

"There was no next train idiot? so I'm stood here admiring the fucking
scenery in No where Ville."

"Well how long you gonna be for fuck sake?" It's nice to be wanted,
Pockle likes to ruck?he likes the odds to be against him about three to
one?but he likes me to be there.

"I won't be there Pockle my old son, I've had enough today I'm heading
back."

"AWWWW!! Fuck off man don't you be such a pussy? Jamie we fucking need
you."

He is saying so much more but my eyes now are back on the big house
with the big garden with the paddling pool, the baby slide and the
swing because now a young woman is there who is no more than a girl, a
girl with golden hair. She's half crouching introducing her baby to the
swing; even from here I can see the perfect adoring smile on her lips,
I imagine beautiful green oval eyes, softly spoken words guiding,
loving and encouraging a beautiful child and for a moment I'm
wishing?but suddenly I hear the oncoming train and suddenly it's all so
clear.

"Pockle mate my train is here?it was nice knowing you son, but it's my
time to go." I hang up to his cursing protests and fling the phone. I
jump down onto the track and face the incoming train.

I've been with Pockle in an alley against eight full of hate if he was
here he'd be on the track trying to haul me back, he'd even take the
hit of the train for me? I suppose that's a kind of love and loyalty;
I've woken in a cell with truncheons xylophoning on my ribs and spine,
so I'm not scared of a train but today for the very first time I was
afraid of something so big it was overwhelming, my God she was so very
beautiful.

I run towards my destiny and for one last time. "OI?OI?SAVELOY!!" My
voice chants out loudly on this balmy September day.