The Lubetkin Legacy

Violet: East Croydon

There’s a train from St Pancras to East Croydon at 5.50, and she’s running a bit late. She drags her suitcase, heavy with Jessie’s borrowed duvet and kitchenware, across the crowded station forecourt, dodging a couple of kids collecting for charity and some idiot dressed up as a coffee bean who tries to stand in her way. She’s just in time. A guy on the train leans out and helps her heave the suitcase in behind her as the doors slide shut.

‘Thanks. I almost never made it.’ She laughs with relief.

‘Where are you going with that great big case?’

He’s young and nice-looking, with horn-rimmed glasses that make him look both cool and intelligent, and a denim jacket slung over his arm.

‘Nairobi.’

‘No kidding. Are you flying from Gatwick?’

‘No, Manchester. But I’m going to see my friend in Croydon before I leave.’

At the station Jessie is waiting for her.

‘Hey, adventurer!’

They laugh and hug. She can smell Jessie’s warm familiar skin and herbal shampoo.

‘I’ll miss you, Jess. You’ll come and visit, won’t you?’

‘Try and stop me. Here, give me your bag. I’m parked just around the corner.’

For some reason her eyes fill up with tears.