Fern played along with a mock-serious nod. ‘Clearly, we’re meant to be.’
The young boy accompanying the woman, pointed at Daniel’s guitar case. ‘Can you play for us?’
‘My grandson,’ the woman shared.
Daniel grinned. ‘I could. But do you want to try?’
The boy’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’
‘Of course.’ Daniel guided him through a few simple chords, patient and encouraging. The boy’s excitement was contagious, drawing smiles from the other passengers. Someone clapped along as Daniel took the guitar and translated the chords into an easy melody.
Fern found herself watching him closely. He was charismatic in a way that felt effortless, his easy-going nature making strangers feel like old friends. How had she never met anyone like him before?
Just then, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to find a text from Ella.
Ella
You missed a great night last night, only just getting home!
Next came a succession of photographs, and there he was, Jax Devlin. The photos showed him backstage with a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other, surrounded as usual by a bunch of girls. She wondered which one he’d taken home.
Fern sighed, locking her phone and shoving it back into her pocket. She shouldn’t care– she didn’t care… or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. Jax Devlin was nothing more than a bad habit, a comfortable, predictable disaster she kept returning to because the alternative was stepping into the unknown.
But as she watched Daniel strumming the guitar, charming an entire train carriage with nothing but a few chords and a smile, she realised just how tired she was. Tired of late-night texts and early-morning regrets. Tired of men who only knew how to love themselves.
Daniel glanced up then, catching her staring. ‘What?’ he asked, brow quirked in amusement.
‘Nothing,’ she said quickly, holding his gaze, and for the first time in a long time, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was more to life than chasing a thrill that always left her feeling empty.
It was three hours before the train finally jolted forwards. Daniel was still entertaining the carriage, guiding the young boy through a simple rhythm while the other passengers tapped along. Fern hadn’t stopped smiling, because whilst being stuck on an unmoving train for three hours would usually have frustrated her, she was very much relaxed and having a good time. Watching Daniel made her want to know more about him.
But then, with a sudden shift in momentum, the train began to slow. The overhead tannoy crackled to life, a voice saying, ‘Next stop, Brackenholt.’
Daniel’s hands stilled on the guitar. His brow furrowed, a flicker of confusion crossing his face before his eyes widened in horror as he looked out of the window.
‘Shit.’ He shot up so fast he nearly knocked over his rucksack. ‘This is my stop!’
Fern blinked. ‘Wait, what?’
But there was no time. He was already grabbing his things in a frantic scramble, shoving the guitar back into its case and slinging his rucksack over one shoulder.
The train gave a final shudder as it came to a complete stop. Daniel turned to Fern, a mixture of regret and urgency flashing across his face.
‘I… uh…’ He hesitated and, in that half-second, something hung between them. Something unspoken. Something neither of them had expected.
The doors hissed open. Daniel took a step towards them but was still looking at Fern.
Fern sat frozen, willing herself to say something, anything. But what?
And then the moment slipped away. Daniel shot her one last crooked smile, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes, before dashing towards the doors. He jumped off the train just before a whistle sounded and the doors slid shut. He was gone.
Fern sat there, heart racing, a hollow sort of ache settling in her chest.
She’d never got his number.
She hadn’t even asked.
The train lurched forward once more, carrying her away from a man who, against all odds, had made her feel something real for the first time in a long time.
