Still chilly in the mornings though, isn’t it? This morning began with me rubbing my hands together on the platform, looking up at the information board. It was foggy. Crows were calling each other in that way that they do on cold mornings, and weak sunlight was trying to break through the cloud. My train was ‘delayed’. Signalling problems apparently, outside London. I sighed to myself.
“What’s the plan then?” said a tall-sounding voice. I span around, and was suddenly aware of a man looming over me. “I mean, I’m waiting on you to decide,” said he, twinkling through his spectacles.
I blinked at him. I had no idea who he was. He wore a tweed-style jacket, soft corduroy trousers, open shirt and gold-rimmed glasses and he was simply emanating ‘boss’ vibes. Some people just have that confidence, I suppose. And some people, people like me, do not. Our two roles on the otherwise empty station platform were never in question. I pulled out my phone to check for updates.
Sometimes a delayed train is a cancelled train, you know. I don’t think that’s as profound as I’ve made it sound, but I do mean that if a train gets delayed longer than it would take for the next one to arrive, then really that first train might as well have not bothered.
The boss-man told me he couldn’t work from home because he’d left his laptop at the office and I nodded in half-sympathy, though he hadn’t been asking for it. I think that’s a feature of boss-men: they prefer giving you information, and it’s weird and countercultural for them to receive it. So when you try, it gets the same blank reaction you would have got if you’d told just them the Shipping Forecast.
Anyway. I called Sammy and asked her to pick me up so I could work from home. Fair enough - getting to Oxford would have taken all morning. She said she was on her way. The boss man gave me a reassuring thumbs up. I didn’t need it. Still no idea who he is. Weirdly though, I appreciated the gesture.
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