This was mad. Completely mad. What was she going to say? "Hi, I'm on a train to chase you down like some kind of romantic stalker, hope you don't mind?"
But she had to say something. Had to tell Victoria she was coming, that they needed to talk, that she had things to say that couldn't wait.
The phone rang once. Twice.
Sasha's heart was in her throat, her mouth dry. Around her, the train hummed with movement and conversation. Someone's laptop clicking, a child asking questions, the rustle of newspapers. But all she could hear was the ringing in her ear.
Pick up, she thought desperately. Please, please pick up.
Three rings. Four.
What if Victoria didn't answer? What if she saw Sasha's name and decided she didn't want to talk? What if—
???
The damn train was still sitting in the station. Victoria was fuming, trying to mentally force the vehicle forward, like she could propel it with anger.
Then her phone buzzed in her bag, vibrating against her leg, and she pulled it out without checking the screen.
"Yes?" she barked, just as the train doors groaned and finally closed.
"Victoria? Victoria? It’s me." Sasha's voice was breathless, uncertain, and Victoria's entire world narrowed to that single sound. "Um. It’s me. Hi. I'm… I'm on a train."
"You're… on a train," Victoria repeated blankly, her brain struggling to catch up.
"Yes, a train. To London. I'm coming to London."
The world tilted slightly, and Victoria gripped the phone harder. "You're what?" There was a shuddering that could have been her heart swelling but equally could have been the train gathering power.
"I know this is mad, but I had to… I mean… I need to see you. To tell you…" Sasha paused, and Victoria could hear the background noise of a train in motion, the particular rhythm of tracks and engine that was unmistakable. "I have things I need to say. Important things. Things I should have said before you left."
Victoria opened her mouth to respond, to say that she was on a train too, that she'd quit her job and was on her way to Manchester to say her own important things, that they were apparently the two most ridiculous people in England.
But before she could get the words out, her train lurched forward with a mechanical groan.
"Sasha," she said quickly, standing up as if that might stop the train through sheer force of will, her free hand bracing against the seat in front of her. "Sasha, wait, I'm…"
The train was pulling out of the station, gathering speed with every second, the platform beginning to slide away outside her window.
"I'm on a train too," Victoria said, pressing the phone harder against her ear as if that might help, as if physical proximity to the device could somehow bridge the distance. "I'm coming to you. To Manchester. I'm on my way to Manchester right now."
"You're… you’re what?" Sasha's voice was pure confusion. "But… you're in London."
"I know. I mean, I was. But I'm not. I'm—" The platform was sliding away faster now, the station disappearing behind them as the train picked up speed. Victoria stood in the aisle of the moving train, her carefully organized world collapsing into complete chaos, and felt something like hysterical laughter bubbling up in her chest.
They'd both got on trains. They were both going to each other.
And they were heading in completely opposite directions.
Of course they were.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Victoria’s heart hammered in her chest. They were so close and yet so far. She thought quickly. "Don't get off your train," she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Stay on it. I'll get off at the next station and double back. We'll meet at Paddington."
"Okay." Sasha's voice crackled through the phone, slightly breathless. "That's… yes, good plan."
The train lurched around a curve and Victoria grabbed the seat back for balance. Through the window, the city blurred past in streaks of gray and gold. Her heart was still throbbing, swelling, almost hurting.
