Lisa was one of the first to leave. She couldn't wait to get out of there. She hated these events. Forced fun and compulsory socialising with people who weren't her friends, under the guise of so-called teambuilding. It was all so fake. Wide grins, banter and backslapping concealing a cesspit of backstabbing, petty jealousies and Machiavellian office politics.
For her, it was particularly hard. She was a natural introvert. Apart from Neil, and a handful of close friends, she found it difficult to spend long periods of time with other people. There was only so much pointless chat she could tolerate before she ran out of things to say. What made it worse was that she could tell that people felt awkward around her. She knew that they tended to avoid getting stuck in a one-to-one situation with her, reluctant to put themselves on the wrong side of one of her uncomfortable silences. That knowledge sucked her deeper into a spiral of self-conscious paralysis.
Alcohol helped a bit, hence why she always ended up overdoing things in that respect. It helped her relax and made it easier to think of things to say. It got her through events like the past couple of days, even if she did pay for it the next morning. But it was simple, she'd always much rather be on her own in front of her computer or snuggled up with Neil on the sofa at home.
So, she'd rushed off the minute the meeting was over. She'd used the Express Checkout Service, grabbed her bags and headed straight to the station, a two-minute walk away. She'd picked up cash for her taxi at the other end, and jumped on the Victoria Line, eager to catch an earlier train than the 17.25 she'd reserved a seat on. At Euston, she'd still had time to pick up her sure-fire hangover cure combination, of a bottle of coconut water and a packet of Percy Pigs from Marks & Spencer.
At the station, everything had seemed perfectly normal, apart from the fact that it seemed unusually busy. She'd briefly registered a couple of policemen in their high visibility jackets, talking on their radios as they walked swiftly through the crowds, but had assumed they were simply heading to some minor incident.
She caught the 16.43 to Edinburgh, via Birmingham, her destination. As she was boarding, a station announcement had reassured the public that the increased police presence in the station was due to a routine operation and there was no cause for alarm. She hadn't given it another thought.
Because she didn't have a seat reservation on the earlier train, she'd headed to the front, furthest away from the gate, hoping it would be quieter. She found an unreserved pair of seats right by the door to the carriage, and had taken the aisle seat as usual, hoping to deter anyone from sitting next to her. She always told herself it was to give her a spare seat for her bag and the privacy to get some work done, but more importantly it avoided having to engage in conversation with any over-friendly fellow travellers.
The train was busy and soon filled up. Irritatingly, Anita, had taken the window seat, forcing Lisa to move her bag with a tight smile. "Of course. No problem."
The train was hot, and exhaustion soon overwhelmed her. She drank her coconut water and attacked the Percy Pigs.
Who was she kidding? The way she felt, she was never going to get any work done. She closed her eyes, and by the time the train pulled out of the station, was deeply asleep. The next thing she knew was Anita shaking her awake.
Anita was talking to her again now. The girl nudged her.
"I said, was anyone expecting you home by now? Will anyone realise that you're missing?"
"No, my partner's working away. He's not due home himself till tomorrow. You?"
Anita sighed. "No. I'm going back to Uni. Loughborough. My parents wouldn't expect me to call till late tonight."
They both looked across at Brian, who simply shook his head.
Lisa wondered what Neil was doing. A freelance cameraman, he was away on a job in Lincolnshire. Filming was due to finish today, but he wasn't planning to head back until the following afternoon, when they'd dismantled the rigging and loaded the vans. He wouldn't call until after seven at the earliest, when she was due home, but he would probably leave it until he got back to his hotel, around nine or ten. It could be hours before he realised she wasn't there.
God, she wished he was here. She never thought she'd hear herself say it, but he'd know what to do. He always assumed command in a crisis. It was irritating, verging on patronising, but right now she would have welcomed it with open arms. As much as she teased him about being an "alpha male" and reminded him that she had managed fine on her own for years before he was around, she had to admit she secretly always felt safe when he was with her.
Even though she'd lived alone for almost a decade before she met him, now, when he was away, the house seemed empty and scary when she turned off the lights and got into their big empty bed. She liked to keep the TV on for company as she fell asleep.
More than the comfort of his presence though, she missed her nightly ritual of cuddling up to his broad, smooth back and kissing the tattoo of a sun between his shoulders. He would reach for her hand, pulling it
