This is a post delayed from Sunday and, actually, one that discusses why I didn’t make it home in time to post on Sunday as I usually do. It involves a train, a tragic death and some musings on both.
So, yesterday, I attended lesbian book group in Leeds where the book under discussion was Hilary McCollum’s Golddigger. I adored the book and we had a great talk about it. Alas, I decided to leave earlier than I would normally because I wanted to get home and do some work on ‘Valerie’ and, yes, write this blog. That meant I caught the 17:45 Virgin East Coast train out of Leeds for a journey that should’ve lasted 15 minutes. 1 hour and 35 minutes later, I finally made it off that train.
Short version: halfway between Leeds and Wakefield, the train I was travelling on struck and apparently killed someone. The details are still sketchy, but that’s to be expected given the nature of the event. We were kept up to date by the guard and, for the most part, everyone on the train was very calm and collected. However, I won’t easily forget the gasp that went up when he announced that someone had been hit by a train. At that point, it wasn’t clear that our train was responsible. When I realised that half an hour later, I felt very sick.
It was a strange situation to be in. The poor driver was replaced and we were stationary for over an hour. It didn’t feel that long though. Somehow, I felt insulated sat there on the train, especially since our carriage was in a tunnel. The reality of what had happened didn’t hit until I was walking home in the rain and, even then, it felt surreal. Only today have I really thought about the whole event and how it fits into the whole.
For me, I have to believe that I’m where I’m meant to be at any given time. I could’ve stayed at book group and had another drink, but I chose to leave and ended up on that train. I don’t quite know how any of this adds up, but it’s making for a very somber Monday. Perhaps it was more poignant with yesterday being Remembrance Sunday. If the fatality was a suicide, I wonder how that person was feeling. I wonder how the driver’s getting on today.
That’s it really – I wonder.