Copyright Oggbashan January 2005
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
* * * * *
I had left the office at nine o'clock after successfully completing everything for tomorrow's presentation to the company's board. My train was just entering my home station. Only then did I notice the date and time. It was eleven o'clock the night before Valentine's Day.
I was in trouble. I hadn't bought a card. I hadn't done anything for Valentine's Day. My wife would be disappointed and a disappointed wife is an unhappy wife. I didn't want Elaine to be unhappy. She had supported me through the last few days of preparation. Her ideas had turned my presentation from a mundane one to something special. I owed her thanks and more than that I ought to have done something spectacular to celebrate our first Valentine's Day as a married couple.
I had told her I would be late. I had called her from the office. I hadn't expected to be this late. One of the trains had been cancelled halfway down the line. I had sat on the platform fuming until the next train arrived. My mobile's battery was flat so I couldn't ring Elaine.
What could I do about a Valentine card or present? Everything was shut. There was a garage on my route from the station that shut at ten. Even if it were open there wouldn't be anything left for Valentine's Day. There were no taxis around and I knew better than to expect one to be available.
I used the call box on the local station's forecourt to let Elaine know I was at least within walking distance. I confessed as well.
"I should be home in about twenty minutes. And..."