Its a cold, dreary Monday and I don’t feel like doing much, but I’ve promised A that we’ll go to the Evolving English exhibition at the British Library. There are several ways we can get there, and it turns out to have been a GOOD idea not to go via the Hammersmith & City as there are signalling problems. I’m on automatic pilot, getting off the tube at London Bridge to change, thinking about where the right platform is, when the broad shoulders in front of me, which I was thinking of purely as an obstacle to skirt, turn into a outstretched arms and a big grin, and there is someone I haven’t seen for a couple of years, and who has been in New Zealand for six months- right in front of me, and offering a big hug. We let the train go, and talk for the four minutes before the next one, have several more hugs and go on our way restored.
All round the exhibition which is interesting (and would be more so if I got my glasses changed so I could see some of the exhibits) I’m thinking about C, and what the chances were of him being stood there, by that exact door of that exact train, and how we mightn’t have met if the signalling on the H&C had been working properly.
copyright Cherry Potts 2011